1. SCENE I. Paris. A hall of state.
[Flourish. Exeunt all but York, Warwick, Exeter and Vernon.]
My Lord of York, I promise you, the king
Prettily, methought, did play the orator.
And so he did; but yet I like it not,
In that he wears the badge of Somerset.
Tush, that was but his fancy, blame him not;
I dare presume, sweet prince, he thought no harm.
An if I wist he did,--but let it rest;
Other affairs must now be managed.
[Exeunt all but Exeter.]
Well didst thou, Richard, to suppress thy voice;
For, had the passions of thy heart burst out,
I fear we should have seen decipher'd there
More rancorous spite, more furious raging broils,
Than yet can be imagined or supposed.
But howsoe'er, no simple man that sees
This jarring discord of nobility,
This shouldering of each other in the court,
This factious bandying of their favorites,
But that it doth presage some ill event.
Tis much when scepters are in children's hands;
But more when envy breeds unkind division;
There comes the ruin, there begins confusion.