Warw.
What should detain the Lord Protectour!—

Beauf.
No:—
That will not do.—

Warw.
He may mistake the Hour.—

Beauf.
Ha!—What Voice?—The Earl of Warwick.—

Warw.
Lord Cardinal!—
'Tis somewhat Strange, to find You, out of Council,
At such a busy Time.

Beauf.
Perhaps, You come
To seek the Duke of Gloucester; now, unhappily,
Under Confinement.

Warw.
Under Confinement!—
How? Where? Why?—Unhappily!—
Contrivance, all!—It must;—A Plot of Thine:
Who, else, durst to—

Beauf.
Pass on to his Apartment;
And, He may be at Leisure to inform you.

Warw.
A Prisoner?—The Protectour of the Realm!—
By what Authority?—Say, Bishop;—Cardinal!—

Beauf.
Young, hasty Warwick, question not thy Betters;
Who owe thee no Reply.

Warw.
But, we shall find
A Time, and Place, to question Thee,—to Purpose.
For, if the King, herein, has been advis'd
To stretch his Power, beyond the Law; Thy Malice,

Thy daring Malice, only, has betray'd him.

Beauf.
Rash Boy, thy Menaces rise short of Me;
Who move within a Sphere, exalted high,
Above thy Lay-Condition!—We love our Nephew:
And, to our best Abilities, We serve the King.
Adieu:—And, learn more Reverence to Our Order.

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