What might it bode, but that well foretelling
40 Winds, said, seeke not a scorpions neast.
Enter the Earles of Warwicke and Salisbury.
[♦] War. My Lord, the Commons like an angrie hiue of bees,
Run vp and downe, caring not whom they sting,
[♦] For good Duke Humphreys death, whom they report
To be murthered by Suffolke and the Cardinall here.
45 King. That he is dead good Warwick, is too true,
But how he died God knowes, not Henry.
War. Enter his priuie chamber my Lord and view the bodie.