Glost. I my Lord Cardinall, how thinke you by that?
Were it not good your Grace could flye to Heauen?
King. The Treasurie of euerlasting Ioy
Card. Thy Heauen is on Earth, thine Eyes & Thoughts
Beat on a Crowne, the Treasure of thy Heart,
Pernitious Protector, dangerous Peere,
That smooth'st it so with King and Common-weale
Glost. What, Cardinall?
Is your Priest-hood growne peremptorie?
Tantęne animis Coelestibus irę, Church-men so hot?
Good Vnckle hide such mallice:
With such Holynesse can you doe it?
Suff. No mallice Sir, no more then well becomes
So good a Quarrell, and so bad a Peere
Glost. As who, my Lord?
Suff. Why, as you, my Lord,
An't like your Lordly Lords Protectorship
Glost. Why Suffolke, England knowes thine insolence
Queene. And thy Ambition, Gloster
King. I prythee peace, good Queene,
And whet not on these furious Peeres,
For blessed are the Peace-makers on Earth
Card. Let me be blessed for the Peace I make
Against this prowd Protector with my Sword
Glost. Faith holy Vnckle, would't were come to that
Card. Marry, when thou dar'st