David Reed
Page: 8

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 Cæsar 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[aint]. 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?