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Glo. O Nell, sweet Nell, if thou dost love thy | Your grace's title shall be multiplied.


Banish the canker of ambitious thoughts:
And may that thought, when I imagine ill
Against my king and nephew, virtuous Henry,
"Be my last breathing in this mortal world!

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'My troublous dream this night doth make me sad. Duch. What dream, 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, 'But, as I think, it was by the cardinal; And on the pieces of the broken wand 'Were plac'd the heads of Edmond 'duke of Somerset,

'And William de la Poole first duke of Suffolk. This was my dream: what it doth bode, God knows.

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Duch. Tut, this was nothing but an argument, That he that breaks a stick of Gloster's grove, Shall lose his head for his presumption.

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

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!
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?
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


'With Eleanor, for telling but her dream? Next time, I'll keep my dreams unto myself, And not be check'd.

'Glo. Nay, be not angry, I am pleas'd again. Enter a Messenger.

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

With Margery Jourdain, the cunning witch;
And Roger Bolingbroke, the conjurer?
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,
As by your grace shall be propounded him.
Duch. It is enough; I'll think upon
the ques-

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 Duchess.
*Hume. Hume must make merry with the
duchess' gold;

Marry, and shall. 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:

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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 buzz these conjurations in her brain.
*They say, A crafty knave does need no broker;
*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,
*Hume's knavery will be the duchess' wreck;
*And her attainture will be Humphrey's fall:
so* Sort how it will,4 I shall have gold for all. [Exit.
SCENE III-The same. 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.5

'Mess. My lord protector, 'tis his highness'


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 with him: I'll be the first, sure.


2 Pet. Come back, fool; this is the duke of 'Suffolk, and not my lord protector.

Suff. How now, fellow? would'st any thing

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, good my lord, I'll follow presently.
Exeunt Gloster and Messenger.
Follow I must, I cannot go before,
*While Gloster bears this base and humble mind. ' with me?
*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:
*And, being a woman, I will not be slack
*To play my part in fortune's pageant.
"Where are you there? Sir John 13 nay, fear not,

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1 Pet. I pray, my lord, pardon me! I took ye 'for my lord protector.

'Q. Mar. [Reading the superscription.] 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.

Suff. 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.

Peter. [Presenting his petition] Against my

(4) Let the issue be what it will.

With great exactness and observance of form.

master, Thomas Horner, for saying, That the duke* And plac'd a quire of such enticing birds, of York was rightful heir to the crown. That she will light to listen to the lays,


'Q. Mar. What say'st thou? Did the duke of* And never mount to trouble you again. York say, he was rightful heir to the crown?

*So, let her rest: And, madam, list to me;

*Although we fancy not the cardinal,

Peter. That my master was? No, forsooth: my* For I am bold to counsel you in this. 'master said, That he was; and that the king was 'an usurper.

*Yet must we join with him, and with the lords, Suff. Who is there? [Enter Servants.]-Take this Till we have brought duke Humphrey in disgrace. fellow in, and send for his master with a pursuivant * As for the duke of York, this late complaint? presently:-we'll hear more of your matter before* Will make but little for his benefit: [Exeunt Servants, with Peter. So, one by one, we'll weed them all at last, Q. Mar. And as for you, that love to be pro-* And you yourself shall steer the happy helm.

the king.


'Under the wings of our protector's grace, 'Begin your suits anew, and sue to him.

[Tears the petition. Away, base cullions !-Suffolk, let them go. *All. Come, let's be gone. [Exeunt Petitioners. *Q. Mar. My lord of Suffolk, say, is this the


*Is this the fashion in the court of England?
*Is this the government of Britain's isle,
*And this the royalty of Albion's king?
*What, shall king Henry be a pupil still,
*Under the surly Gloster's governance?
* Am I a queen in title and in style,

* And must be made a subject to a duke?
'I tell thee, Poole, when in the city Tours
Thou ran'st a tilt in honour of my love,
And stol'st away the ladies' hearts of France;
'I thought king Henry had resembled thee,
In courage, courtship, and proportion:
But all his mind is bent to holiness,
*To number Ave-Maries on his beads:
*His champions are-the prophets and apostles;
* His weapons, holy saws2 of sacred writ;
*His study is his tilt-yard, and his loves
* Are brazen images of canoniz'd saints.
*I would, the college of cardinals
*Would choose him pope, and carry him to Rome,
* And set the triple crown upon his head;
*That were a state fit for his holiness.

Suff Madam, be patient: as I was cause 'Your highness came to England, so will I "In England work your grace's full content.

* Q. Mar. Beside the haught protector, have we Beaufort,

*The imperious churchman; Somerset, Buckingham,

* And grumbling York; and not the least of these, * But can do more in England than the king.

Enter King Henry, York, and Somerset, conversing with him; Duke and Duchess of Gloster, Cardinal Beaufort, Buckingham, Salisbury, and Warwick.

K. Hen. For my part, noble lords, I care not which;

Or Somerset, or York, all's one to me.

York. If York have ill demean'd himself in

Then let him be denay'd5 the regentship.
Som. If Somerset be unworthy of the place,
Let York be regent, I will yield to him.
War. Whether your grace be worthy, yea, or no,
Dispute not that: York is the worthier.

Car. Ambitious Warwick, let thy betters speak.
War The cardinal's not my better in the field.
Buck. All in this presence are thy betters, War-

War. Warwick may live to be the best of all. *Sal. Peace, son;- -and show some reason, Buckingham,

*Why Somerset should be preferr'd in this. *Q. Mar. Because the king, forsooth, will have

*Suff. And he of these, that can do most of all, * Cannot do more in England than the Nevils: *Salisbury, and Warwick, are no simple peers. 'Q. Mar. Not all these lords do vex me half so* much,

it so.

Glo. Madam, the king is old enough himself To give his censure:6 these are no women's mat


Q. Mar. If he be old enough, what need your grace

To be protector of his excellence?

'Glo. Madam, I am protector of the realm; And, at his pleasure, will resign my place. Suff. Resign it then, and leave thine insolence. Since thou wert king, (as who is king, but thou?)

The commonwealth hath daily run to wreck : * The dauphin hath prevail'd beyond the seas; *And all the peers and nobles of the realm * Have been as bondmen to thy sovereignty. *Car. The commons hast thou rack'd; the clergy's bags

'As that proud dame, the lord protector's wife.
She sweeps it through the court with troops of*

Are lank and lean with thy extortions. *Som. Thy sumptuous buildings, and thy wife's attire,

Have cost a mass of public treasury. *Buck. Thy cruelty in execution, Upon offenders, hath exceeded law, *And left thee to the mercy of the law.

*Q. Mar. Thy sale of offices and towns in France,

*If they were known, as the suspect is great,Would make thee quickly hop without thy head.

More like an empress than duke Humphrey's wife;* Strangers in court do take her for the queen: * She bears a duke's revenues on her back, *And in her heart she scorns her poverty: * Shall I not live to be aveng'd on her? *Contemptuous base-born callat3 as she is, She vaunted 'mongst her minions t'other day, The very train of her worst wearing-gown Was better worth than all my father's lands, *Till Suffolk gave two dukedoms for his daughter. Suff. Madam, myself have lim'd a bush for her;

(1) Scoundrels. (2) Sayings. (3) Drab, trull. (4) i. e. The complaint of Peter the armourer's man against his master

[Exit Gloster. The Queen drops her fan. Give me my fan: What, minion! can you not? [Gives the Duchess a box on the ear. I cry you mercy, madam; Was it you?

(5) Denay is frequently used instead of deny among the old writers.

(6) Censure here means simply judgment or


Duch. Was't I? yea, I it was, proud French-'I do beseech your royal majesty,


Could I come near your beauty with my nails, I'd set my ten commandments in your face.1

K. Hen. Sweet aunt, be quiet; 'twas against her will.

'Duch. Against her will! Good king, look to't in time;

She'll hamper thee, and dandle thee like a baby *Though in this place most master wear no breeches,

She shall not strike dame Eleanor unreveng'd. [Exit Duchess. *Buck. Lord cardinal, I will follow Eleanor, * And listen after Humphrey, how he proceeds: *She's tickled now; her fume can need no spurs, *She'll gallop fast enough to her destruction. [Exit Buckingham.

Re-enter Gloster.

* Glo. Now, lords, my choler being over-blown, *With walking once about the quadrangle, * I come to talk of commonwealth affairs. *As for your spiteful false objections, *Prove them, and I lie open to the law: *But God in mercy so deal with my soul, * As I in duty love my king and country! * But, to the matter that we have in hand *I say, my sovereign, York is meetest man *To be your regent in the realm of France.

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* Suff. Before we make election, give me leave To show some reason, of no little force, That York is most unmeet of any man. 'York. I'll tell thee, Suffolk, why I am unmeet. First, for I cannot flatter thee in pride; *Next, if I be appointed for the place, *My lord of Somerset will keep me here, *Without discharge, money, or furniture, *Till France be won into the dauphin's hands. * Last time, I danc'd attendance on his will, *Till Paris was besieg'd, famish'd, and lost.

* War. That I can witness; and a fouler fact *Did never traitor in the land commit. Suff. Peace, headstrong Warwick! War. Image of pride, why should I hold my peace?

Enter Servants of Suffolk, bringing in Horner

and Peter.

Suff. Because here is a man accus'd of treason: Pray God, the duke of York excuse himself!


* York. Doth any one accuse York for a traitor? *K. Hen. What mean'st thou, Suffolk? tell me: What are these?

Suff. Please it your majesty, this is the man That doth accuse his master of high treason: His words were these ;-that Richard, duke of York,

Was rightful heir unto the English crown; And that your majesty was an usurper.

'K. Hen. Say, man, were these thy words? Hor. An't shall please your majesty, I never said nor thought any such matter: God is my witI am falsely accused by the villain.


Pet. By these ten bones, my lords, [Holding up his hands.] he did speak them to me in the garret one night as we were scouring my lord of York's armour.

*York. Base dunghill villain, and mechanical, *I'll have thy head for this thy traitor's speech :

(1) The marks of her fingers and thumbs. (2 By exorcise Shakspeare invariably means to raise spirits, and not to lay them.

'Let him have all the rigour of the law.

Hor. Alas, my lord, hang me, if ever I spake the words. My accuser is my prentice; and when I did correct him for his fault the other day, he did vow upon his knees he would be even with me: have good witness of this: therefore, I beseech your majesty, do not cast away an honest man for a villain's accusation.

K. Hen. Uncle, what shall we say to this in law? Glo. This doom, my lord, if I may judge. 'Let Somerset be regent o'er the French, 'Because in York this breeds suspicion: And let these have a day appointed them For single combat in convenient place; For he hath witness of his servant's malice: This is the law, and this duke Humphrey's doom, K. Hen. Then be it so. My lord of Somerset, We make your grace lord regent o'er the French. Som. I humbly thank your royal majesty.

Hor. And I accept the combat willingly. Pet. Alas, my lord, I cannot fight; * for God's *sake, pity my case! the spite of man prevaileth * against me. O, Lord have mercy upon me! I *shall never be able to fight a blow: O Lord, my

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Enter a Servant.

*For, till thou speak, thou shalt not pass from hence.

* Spir. Ask what thou wilt:-That I had said and done!


Boling. First, of the king. What shall of him
[Reading out of a paper.
Spir. The duke yet lives, that Henry shall depose;
But him outlive, and die a violent death.
[As the Spirit speaks, Southwell writes the answer.
Boling. What fate awaits the duke of Suffolk?
Spir. By water shall he die, and take his end.
Boling. What shall befall the duke of Somerset?
Spir. Let him shun castles;

Safer shall he be upon the sandy plains,
Than where castles mounted stand.

'Have done, for more I hardly can endure. Boling. Descend to darkness, and the burning lake:

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The duke yet lives, that Henry shall depose;
But him outlive, and die a violent death.
*Why, this is just.

*Aio te, acida, Romanos vincere posse.
Well, to the rest:

Tell me,
what fate awaits the duke of Suffolk?
By water shall he die, and take his end.-
What shall betide the duke of Somerset?
Let him shun castles;

Safer shall he be upon the sandy plains,
Than where castles mounted stand.

* Come, come, my lords;

*These oracles are hardily attain'd,

* And hardly understood.

The king is now in progress toward Saint Albans, With him, the husband of this lovely lady; Thither go these news, as fast as horse can carry them;

A sorry breakfast for my lord protector.

• Buck. Your grace shall give me leave, my lord

of York,

To be the post, in hope of his reward.

York. At your pleasure, my good lord.-Who's 'within there, ho!"

(1) Rewarded.

Invite my lords of Salisbury, and Warwick, To sup with me to-morrow night.-Away! [Exe.


SCENE I-Saint Albans. Enter King Henry, Queen Margaret, Gloster, Cardinal, and Suffolk, with Falconers hollaing.

'Q. Mar. Believe me, lords, for flying at the brook,2

I saw not better sport these seven years' day : Yet, by your leave, the wind was very high; And, ten to one, old Joan had not gone out. 'K. Hen. But what a point, my lord, your falcon made,

And what a pitch she flew above the rest!— To see how God in all his creatures works! *Yea, man and birds, are fain3 of climbing high. Suff. No marvel, an it like your majesty, My lord protector's hawks do tower so well; They know their master loves to be aloft, *And bears his thoughts above his falcon's pitch. 'Glo. My lord, 'tis but a base ignoble mind That mounts no higher than a bird can soar. 'Car. I thought as much; he'd be above the clouds.

'Glo. Ay, my lord cardinal; How think you by that?

Were it not good, your grace could fly to heaven? *K. Hen. The treasury of everlasting joy! 'Car. Thy heaven is on earth; thine


eyes 'Beat on a crown,4 the treasure of thy heart; Pernicious protector, dangerous peer,


That smooth'st it so with king and commonweal! Glo. What, cardinal, is your priesthood growi peremptory?

*Tantæne animis cœlestibus iræ? Churchmen so hot? good uncle, hide such malice; With such holiness can you do it?

'Suff. No malice, sir; no more than well be

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Q. Mar. And thy ambition, Gloster. K. Hen. I pr'ythee, peace, Good queen; and whet not on these furious peers, For blessed are the peace-makers on earth.

Car. Let me be blessed for the peace I make, Against this proud protector, with my sword! Glo. 'Faith, holy uncle, 'would 'twere come to that! [Aside to the Cardinal. 'Car. Marry, when thou dar'st. [Aside. 'Glo. Make up no factious numbers for the

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(3) Fond.

(2) The falconer's term for hawking at water-fowl.(4) i. e. Thy mind is working on a crown.

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'Protector, see to't well, protect yourself. [Aside. K. Hen. The winds grow high; so do your stomachs, lords.

* How irksome is this music to my heart! *When such strings jar, what hope of harmony? * I pray, my lords, let me compound this strife.

Enter an Inhabitant of Saint Albans, crying, A miracle!

Glo. What means this noise?

Fellow, what miracle dost thou proclaim?

Inhab. A miracle! a miracle!

Suff. Come to the king, and tell him what miracle.

Inhab. Forsooth, a blind man at Saint Alban's shrine,

Within this half hour, hath receiv'd his sight;
A man, that ne'er saw in his life before.

'K. Hen. Now, God be prais'd! that to believing souls

'Gives light in darkness, comfort in despair!

Enter the Mayor of Saint Albans, and his brethren; and Simpcox, borne between two persons in a chair; his Wife, and a great multitude, following.

*Car. Here come the townsmen on procession, *To present your highness with the man.

*K. Hen. Great is his comfort in this earthly vale,

*Although by his sight his sin be multiplied.

*Glo. Stand by, my masters, bring him near the king,

*His highness' pleasure is to talk with him.

*K. Hen. Good fellow, tell us here the circumstance,

*That we for thee may glorify the Lord.
What, hast thou been born blind, and now restor❜d?
Simp. Born blind, an't please your grace.
Wife. Ay, indeed, was he.
Suff. What woman is this?

Wife. His wife, an't like your worship.
Glo. Had'st thou been his mother, thou could'st

have better told.

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Let me see thine eyes:-wink now; now open them ::

In my opinion yet thou see'st not well.

Simp. Yes, master, clear as day; I thank God, and Saint Alban.

Glo. Say'st thou me so? What colour is this cloak of?

Simp. Red, master; red as blood.

Glo. Why, that's well said: What colour is my gown of?

Simp. Black, forsooth; coal-black, as jet.
K. Hen. Why then, thou know'st what colour
jet is of?

Suff. And yet, I think, jet did he never see.
Glo. But cloaks and gowns, before this day, a

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To name the several colours we do wear.
Sight may distinguish of colours; but suddenly
To nominate them all, 's impossible.
My lords, Saint Alban here hath done a miracle;
And would ye not think that cunning to be great,
That could restore this cripple to his legs?

Simp. O, master, that you could!

Glo. My masters of Saint Albans have you not beadles in your town, and things called whips? May. Yes, my lord, if it please your grace. Glo. Then send for one presently. May. Sirrah, go fetch the beadle hither straight. [Exit an attendant.

Glo. Now fetch me a stool hither by and by. [A stool brought out.] Now, sirrah, if you mean to save yourself from whipping, leap me over this stool, and run away.

Simp. Alas, master, I am not able to stand alone. You go about to torture me in vain.

Re-enter Attendant, with the Beadle.

Glo. Well, sir, we must have you find your legs. Sirrah beadle, whip him till he leap over that same stool.

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