The best way to keep it is by mutual agreement.

GLOUCESTER. If you do homage for it you acknowledge that you hold it only by their goodwill, you—.

RICHARD. To hold it by goodwill is better than perpetually holding our breath about its military security.

GLOUCESTER. It is a contemptible suggestion, a degrading suggestion. I am ashamed that it should have come from a nephew of mine, and that a servant of Edward the Third (_glaring at DE LA POLE_) should aid and abet you in making it. If your father were only alive to-day—.

RICHARD. I wish to God he were! Then I should be hunting in Malvern—and you would be nagging the gardeners at Pleshy!

GLOUCESTER. This is too much! I sit on this council to give advice, not to be insulted. When you need my advice again you can send for me.

(_Exit angrily._)

RICHARD. (_recovering his temper abruptly_). Well! (_The tone says: “That’s that!”_) I think that ends the conference for to-day, gentlemen. The papers I shall sign with the Chancellor this evening. The only other matter is Parliament’s complaint of my extravagance, and that, being a more or less perpetual matters can wait. (_Rising_) I expect you all to dinner.

LANCASTER. (_as the others file out_). May I have a word with you, if you are not too ravenous?

RICHARD. Ravenous! It takes me two days to recover my appetite after a conference. (_He props himself against the table._) What is it that you wanted to say?

LANCASTER. You and I will never agree over this French business, Richard. We have quarrelled over it more than once. And it hurts my sense of fitness to quarrel the same quarrel more than three times. I have made up my mind to take my departure to Spain.

RICHARD. To Spain! But—.

LANCASTER. I know, I know! (_As one repeating a well-learned lesson_) Spain is France’s ally, and France must not be offended. Hitherto I have had to let my military ambitions in Spain wilt because of your peace ambitions in France. But the end of the French armistice is coming, and if it ends, as I am sure it will, in the renewal of war, nothing is left in the way of my little Spanish expedition. I don’t think that you can object to that. My claim to Spain, if not immaculate, is at least not greatly—”trumped up” was the word, I think? (_glancing slyly at RICHARD_).

RICHARD. (_smiling in spite of himself_). No.