85 Proud Protector, enuy in thine eyes I see,
The big swolne venome of thy hatefull heart,
[♦] That dares presume gainst that thy Soueraigne likes.
[♦] Humphr. Nay my Lord tis not my words that troubles you,
But my presence, proud Prelate as thou art:
[90] But ile begone, and giue thee leaue to speake.
Farewell my Lords, and say when I am gone,
I prophesied France would be lost ere long. Exet Duke Humphrey.
Card. There goes our Protector in a rage,
My Lords you know he is my great enemy,