The Same. A Room in the DUKE OF GLOUCESTER’S House. | |
| |
Enter GLOUCESTER and his DUCHESS. | |
| Duch. Why droops my lord, like over-ripen’d corn | |
| Hanging the head at Ceres’ plenteous load? | 4 |
| Why doth the great Duke Humphrey knit his brows, | |
| As frowning at the favours of the world? | |
| Why are thine eyes fix’d to the sullen earth, | |
| Gazing on that which seems to dim thy sight? | 8 |
| What scest thou there? King Henry’s diadem | |
| Enchas’d with all the honours of the world? | |
| If so, gaze on, and grovel on thy face, | |
| Until thy head be circled with the same. | 12 |
| Put forth thy hand, reach at the glorious gold: | |
| What! is’t too short? I’ll lengthen it with mine; | |
| And having both together heav’d it up, | |
| We’ll both together lift our heads to heaven, | 16 |
| And never more abase our sight so low | |
| As to vouchsafe one glance unto the ground. | |
| Glo. O Nell, sweet Nell, if thou dost love thy lord, | |
| Banish the canker of ambitious thoughts: | 20 |
| And may that thought, when I imagine ill | |
| Against my king and nephew, virtuous Henry, | |
| Be my last breathing in this mortal world! | |
| My troublous dream this night doth make me sad. | 24 |
| Duch. What dream’d my lord? tell me, and I’ll requite it | |
| With sweet rehearsal of my morning’s dream. | |
| Glo. Methought this staff, mine office-badge in court, | |
| Was broke in twain; by whom I have forgot, | 28 |
| But, as I think, it was by the cardinal; | |
| And on the pieces of the broken wand | |
| Were plac’d the heads of Edmund Duke of Somerset, | |
| And William De la Pole, first Duke of Suffolk. | 32 |
| This was my dream: what it doth bode, God knows. | |
| Duch. Tut! this was nothing but an argument | |
| That he that breaks a stick of Gloucester’s grove | |
| Shall lose his head for his presumption. | 36 |
| But list to me, my Humphrey, my sweet duke: | |
| Methought I sat in seat of majesty | |
| In the cathedral church of Westminster, | |
| And in that chair where kings and queens are crown’d; | 40 |
| Where Henry and Dame Margaret kneel’d to me, | |
| And on my head did set the diadem. | |
| Glo. Nay, Eleanor, then must I chide outright: | |
| Presumptuous dame! ill-nurtur’d Eleanor! | 44 |
| Art thou not second woman in the realm, | |
| And the protector’s wife, belov’d of him? | |
| Hast thou not worldly pleasure at command, | |
| Above the reach or compass of thy thought? | 48 |
| And wilt thou still be hammering treachery, | |
| To tumble down thy husband and thyself | |
| From top of honour to disgrace’s feet? | |
| Away from me, and let me hear no more. | 52 |
| Duch. What, what, my lord! are you so choleric | |
| With Eleanor, for telling but her dream? | |
| Next time I’ll keep my dreams unto myself, | |
| And not be check’d. | 56 |
| Glo. Nay, be not angry; I am pleas’d again. | |
| |
Enter a Messenger. | |
| Mess. My Lord Protector, ’tis his highness’ pleasure | |
| You do prepare to ride unto Saint Alban’s, | 60 |
| Whereas the king and queen do mean to hawk. | |
| Glo. I go. Come, Nell, thou wilt ride with us? | |
| Duch. Yes, my good lord, I’ll follow presently. [Exeunt GLOUCESTER and Messenger. | |
| Follow I must; I cannot go before, | 64 |
| While Gloucester bears this base and humble mind. | |
| Were I a man, a duke, and next of blood, | |
| I would remove these tedious stumbling-blocks | |
| And smooth my way upon their headless necks; | 68 |
| And, being a woman, I will not be slack | |
| To play my part in Fortune’s pageant. | |
| Where are you there? Sir John! nay, fear not, man, | |
| We are alone; here’s none but thee and I. | 72 |
| |
Enter HUME. | |
| Hume. Jesus preserve your royal majesty! | |
| Duch. What sayst thou? majesty! I am but Grace. | |
| Hume. But, by the grace of God, and Hume’s advice, | 76 |
| Your Grace’s title shall be multiplied. | |
| Duch. What sayst thou, man? hast thou as yet conferr’d | |
| With Margery Jourdain, the cunning witch, | |
| With Roger Bolingbroke, the conjurer? | 80 |
| And will they undertake to do me good? | |
| Hume. This they have promised, to show your highness | |
| A spirit rais’d from depth of under ground, | |
| That shall make answer to such questions | 84 |
| As by your Grace shall be propounded him. | |
| Duch. It is enough: I’ll think upon the questions. | |
| When from Saint Alban’s we do make return | |
| We’ll see these things effected to the full. | 88 |
| Here, Hume, take this reward; make merry, man, | |
| With thy confed’ rates in this weighty cause. [Exit. | |
| Hume. Hume must make merry with the duchess’ gold; | |
| Marry and shall. But how now, Sir John Hume! | 92 |
| Seal up your lips, and give no words but mum: | |
| The business asketh silent secrecy. | |
| Dame Eleanor gives gold to bring the witch: | |
| Gold cannot come amiss, were she a devil. | 96 |
| Yet have I gold flies from another coast: | |
| I dare not say from the rich cardinal | |
| And from the great and new-made Duke of Suffolk; | |
| Yet I do find it so: for, to be plain, | 100 |
| They, knowing Dame Eleanor’s aspiring humour, | |
| Have hired me to undermine the duchess | |
| And buzz these conjurations in her brain. | |
| They say, ‘A crafty knave does need no broker;’ | 104 |
| Yet am I Suffolk and the cardinal’s broker. | |
| Hume, if you take not heed, you shall go near | |
| To call them both a pair of crafty knaves. | |
| Well, so it stands; and thus, I fear, at last | 108 |
| Hume’s knavery will be the duchess’ wrack, | |
| And her attainture will be Humphrey’s fall. | |
| Sort how it will I shall have gold for all. [Exit. | |
