Q. Margaret.
Believe me, lords, ^{4 note}for flying at the brook,
I saw no better sport these seven years' day;
Yet, by your leave, ^{5 note}
the wind was very high,
And, ten to one, old Joan had not gone out.

K. Henry.
But what a point, my lord, your Faulcon made,
And what a pitch she flew above the rest.
To see how God in all his creatures works!—
Yea, man and birds are fain of climbing high.

Suf.
No marvel, an it like your Majesty,
My lord Protector's hawks do tow'r so well;
They know, their Master loves to be aloft,
And bears his thoughts above his Faulcon's pitch.

Glo.
My Lord, 'tis but a base ignoble mind,
That mounts no higher than a bird can soar.

Car.
I thought as much. He'd be above the clouds.

Glo.
Ay, my lord Card'nal, how think you by that?
Were it not good, your Grace could fly to heav'n?

K. Henry.
The treasury of everlasting joy!

Car.
Thy heaven is on earth, thine eyes and thoughts
Bent on a Crown, the treasure of thy heart,

Pernicious Protector, dangerous Peer,
That smooth'st it so with King and Common-weal!

Glo.
What, Cardinal! Is your priesthood grown so peremptory?
Tantæne animis Cælestibus iræ?
Churchmen so hot? good uncle, hide such malice.
^{6 note}

Suf.
No malice, Sir, no more than well becomes
So good a quarrel, and so bad a Peer.

Glo.
As who, my Lord?

Suf.
Why, as yourself, my Lord;
An't like your lordly, lord Protectorship.

Glo.
Why, Suffolk, England knows thine insolence.

Q. Mar.
And thy ambition, Glo'ster.

K. Henry.
I pr'ythee, peace, good Queen;
And whet not on these too too furious Peers,
For blessed are the peace-makers on earth.

Car.
Let me be blessed for the peace I make,
Against this proud Protector, with my sword!

Glo. Aside.
Faith, holy uncle, 'would 'twere come to that.

Car. Aside.
Marry, when thou dar'st.

Glo. Aside.
Make up no factious numbers for the matter,
In thine own person answer thy abuse.

Car. Aside.
Ay, where thou dar'st not peep; and, if thou dar'st,
This Ev'ning on the east-side of the grove.

K. Henry.
How now, my Lords?

Car.
Believe me, cousin Glo'ster,
Had not your man put up the fowl so suddenly,
We'd had more sport—^{7 note}

Come with thy two-hand sword. [Aside to Glo'ster.

Glo.
True, uncle.

Car.
Are you advis'd?—the east side of the Grove.

Glou.
Cardinal, I am with you. [Aside.

K. Henry.
Why, how now, uncle Glo'ster?

Glo.
Talking of hawking; nothing else, my Lord.—
Now, by God's mother, Priest, I'll shave your crown for this,
Or all my Fence shall fail. [Aside.

Car. [Aside.]
Medice, teipsum.
Protector, see to't well, protect yourself.

K. Henry.
The winds grow high, so do your stomachs, Lords.
How irksome is this musick to my heart!
When such strings jar, what hopes of harmony?
I pray, my Lords, let me compound this strife.

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