And, when I spy advantage, claim the crown,
For that’s the golden mark I seek to hit:
Nor shall proud Lancaster usurp my right,
240 Nor hold the sceptre in his childish fist,
Nor wear the diadem upon his head,
[♦] Whose church-like humours fits not for a crown.
Then, York, be still awhile, till time do serve:
Watch thou and wake when others be asleep,
245 To pry into the secrets of the state;
[♦] Till Henry, surfeiting in joys of love,