With silken, sly, insinuating Jacks?

GREY.
To who in all this presence speaks your grace?

GLOSTER.
To thee, that hast nor honesty nor grace.
When have I injur'd thee? when done thee wrong?--
Or thee?--or thee?--or any of your faction?
A plague upon you all! His royal grace,--
Whom God preserve better than you would wish!--
Cannot be quiet scarce a breathing while,
But you must trouble him with lewd complaints.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
Brother of Gloster, you mistake the matter.
The king, on his own royal disposition,
And not provok'd by any suitor else--
Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred
That in your outward action shows itself
Against my children, brothers, and myself--
Makes him to send; that thereby he may gather
The ground of your ill-will, and so remove it.

GLOSTER.
I cannot tell: the world is grown so bad
That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch:
Since every Jack became a gentleman,
There's many a gentle person made a Jack.