Gloucest.
I see, His Majesty, hereby, commands,
That I should, on Suspicion of high Treason,
Remain confin'd to my Apartment; 'till
His Pleasure be, farther, known.—I obey.—
Seem not surpris'd, good Uncle: Though, You know,
This Order is illegal.—But, We Obey.

Beauf.
The King, best, knows the Limits of his Power.
With Him, you may dispute—

Gloucest.
Not, with the King;
But, with his new Advisers.

Buckin.
Your Highness may observe,
My Orders do admit of no Delay.

Gloucest.
I go.—Uncle, good Night.
  To Morrow, We may talk, in Parliament.
Mean Time, We sleep:—we are innocent,
We, Both, may sleep.—Lord Buckingham; my Duty
To my lov'd Sovereign.—Alas! He knows not,
If Gloucester should be over-born by Faction,
Or, die of Grief; He has not, long, to wear
His Crown.—Once more, my reverend Uncle,
Good Night.

Beauf.
A sweet, and sound Repose, to Gloucester.

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