Part 4

Dolph. What shee sayes, Ile confirme: wee'le fight it out

Puzel. Assign'd am I to be the English Scourge. This night the Siege assuredly Ile rayse: Expect Saint Martins Summer, Halcyons dayes, Since I haue entred into these Warres. Glory is like a Circle in the Water, Which neuer ceaseth to enlarge it selfe, Till by broad spreading, it disperse to naught. With Henries death, the English Circle ends, Dispersed are the glories it included: Now am I like that prowd insulting Ship, Which CÊsar and his fortune bare at once

Dolph. Was Mahomet inspired with a Doue? Thou with an Eagle art inspired then. Helen, the Mother of Great Constantine, Nor yet S. Philips daughters were like thee. Bright Starre of Venus, falne downe on the Earth, How may I reuerently worship thee enough? Alanson. Leaue off delayes, and let vs rayse the Siege

Reigneir. Woman, do what thou canst to saue our honors, Driue them from Orleance, and be immortaliz'd

Dolph. Presently wee'le try: come, let's away about it, No Prophet will I trust, if shee proue false.

Exeunt.

Enter Gloster, with his Seruing-men.

Glost. I am come to suruey the Tower this day; Since Henries death, I feare there is Conueyance: Where be these Warders, that they wait not here? Open the Gates, 'tis Gloster that calls

1.Warder. Who's there, that knocks so imperiously? Glost.1.Man. It is the Noble Duke of Gloster

2.Warder. Who ere he be, you may not be let in

1.Man. Villaines, answer you so the Lord Protector? 1.Warder. The Lord protect him, so we answer him, We doe no otherwise then wee are will'd

Glost. Who willed you? or whose will stands but mine? There's none Protector of the Realme, but I: Breake vp the Gates, Ile be your warrantize; Shall I be flowted thus by dunghill Groomes?

Glosters men rush at the Tower Gates, and Wooduile the Lieutenant speakes within.

Wooduile. What noyse is this? what Traytors haue wee here? Glost. Lieutenant, is it you whose voyce I heare? Open the Gates, here's Gloster that would enter

Wooduile. Haue patience Noble Duke, I may not open, The Cardinall of Winchester forbids: From him I haue expresse commandement, That thou nor none of thine shall be let in

Glost. Faint-hearted Wooduile, prizest him 'fore me? Arrogant Winchester, that haughtie Prelate, Whom Henry our late Soueraigne ne're could brooke? Thou art no friend to God, or to the King: Open the Gates, or Ile shut thee out shortly

Seruingmen. Open the Gates vnto the Lord Protector, Or wee'le burst them open, if that you come not quickly. Enter to the Protector at the Tower Gates, Winchester and his men in Tawney Coates.

Winchest. How now ambitious Vmpheir, what meanes this? Glost. Piel'd Priest, doo'st thou command me to be shut out? Winch. I doe, thou most vsurping Proditor, And not Protector of the King or Realme

Glost. Stand back thou manifest Conspirator, Thou that contriued'st to murther our dead Lord, Thou that giu'st Whores Indulgences to sinne, Ile canuas thee in thy broad Cardinalls Hat, If thou proceed in this thy insolence

Winch. Nay, stand thou back, I will not budge a foot: This be Damascus, be thou cursed Cain, To slay thy Brother Abel, if thou wilt

Glost. I will not slay thee, but Ile driue thee back: Thy Scarlet Robes, as a Childs bearing Cloth, Ile vse, to carry thee out of this place

Winch. Doe what thou dar'st, I beard thee to thy face

Glost. What? am I dar'd, and bearded to my face? Draw men, for all this priuiledged place, Blew Coats to Tawny Coats. Priest, beware your Beard, I meane to tugge it, and to cuffe you soundly. Vnder my feet I stampe thy Cardinalls Hat: In spight of Pope, or dignities of Church, Here by the Cheekes Ile drag thee vp and downe

Winch. Gloster, thou wilt answere this before the Pope

Glost. Winchester Goose, I cry, a Rope, a Rope. Now beat them hence, why doe you let them stay? Thee Ile chase hence, thou Wolfe in Sheepes array. Out Tawney-Coates, out Scarlet Hypocrite.

Here Glosters men beat out the Cardinalls men, and enter in the hurly-burly the Maior of London, and his Officers.

Maior. Fye Lords, that you being supreme Magistrates, Thus contumeliously should breake the Peace

Glost. Peace Maior, thou know'st little of my wrongs: Here's Beauford, that regards nor God nor King, Hath here distrayn'd the Tower to his vse