Above the reach or compass of thy thought?
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.

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 checked.

Glo. Nay, be not angry, I am pleased again.1

Enter a Messenger.

Mess My lord protector, 't is his highness' pleasure,

You do prepare to ride unto Saint Albans,
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 GLOSTER and Messenger.

Follow I must; I cannot go before,

While Gloster bears this base and humble mind.
Were I a man, a duke, and next of blood,
I would remove these tedious stumbling-blocks,

1 Nay, Nell, I'll give no credit to a dream,
But I'd have thee to think on no such things.

And smooth my way upon their headless necks: And, being a woman, I will not be slack

To play my part in Fortune's pageant.1

Where are you there? Sir John! nay, fear not,

man,

We are alone here 's none but thee, and I.

Enter JOHN HUME.

Hume. Jesus preserve your royal majesty.

Duch. What say'st thou majesty! I am but

grace.

Hume. But, by the grace of God, and Hume's advice,

Your grace's title shall be multiplied.

Duch. What say'st thou, man? hast thou as yet conferred

With Margery Jourdain, the cunning witch,

And Roger Bolingbroke, the conjurer ?

And will they undertake to do me good?

Hume. This they have promiséd,—to show your highness

A spirit raised from depth of under-ground,
That shall make answer to such questions,

1 But ere it be long, I'll go before them all,
Despite of all who seek to cross me thus.
Who is within there?

As by your grace shall be propounded him.

Duch. It is enough: I'll think upon, the

questions.

When from Saint Albans we do make return,

We'll see these things effected to the full.

Here, Hume, take this reward; make merry, man, With thy confederates in this weighty cause. [Exit. Hume. Hume must make merry with the duchess'

gold:

Marry, and shall.1 But how now, Sir John Hume?
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.

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,

They, knowing Dame Eleanor's aspiring humour,
Have hired me to undermine the duchess,
And buz these conjurations in her brain.
They say, a crafty knave does need no broker;
Yet am I Suffolk and the cardinal's broker.

1 From this point underlining is used only to mark positive additions to the text or material changes in the course of the re-writing.

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,
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.

SCENE III.-London.

A Room in the Palace.

Enter PETER, and others, with petitions.

1 Pet. My masters, let's stand close: my lord Protector will come this way by-and-by, and then we may deliver our supplications in the quill.

2 Pet. Marry, the Lord protect him, for he 's a good man! Jesu bless him!

Enter SUFFOLK and Queen Margaret.

1 Pet. Here'a comes, methinks, and the queen with him. I'll be the first, sure.

2 Pet. Come back, fool! this is the Duke of Suffolk, and not my lord Protector.

Suf. How now, fellow wouldst anything with me?1

for

1 Pet. I pray, my lord, pardon me: I took ye my lord Protector.

1 Queen. Now, good fellows, whom would you speak withal?

Q. Mar. "To my lord Protector!" are your supplications to his lordship? Let me see them. What is thine?

1 Pet. Mine is, an 't please your grace, against John Goodman, my lord cardinal's man, for keeping my house, and lands, and wife, and all, from

me.

Suf. Thy wife too? that is some wrong indeed.— What's yours?-What's here! [Reads.] "Against the Duke of Suffolk, for enclosing the commons of Melford."-How now, sir knave?

2 Pet. Alas! sir, I am but a poor petitioner of our whole township.1

Peter. [Presenting his petition.] Against my master, Thomas Horner, for saying, that the Duke of York was rightful heir to the crown.

Q. Mar. What say'st thou? did the Duke of York say he was rightful heir to the crown?

Pet. That my master was? No, forsooth: my master said, that he was; and that the king was an usurper.

Suf. Who is there?

Enter Servants.

Take this fellow in, and send for his master with a

1 Placed in the old play after the arrest of Peter.