Watch thou, and wake, when others be asleep,
To pry into the secrets of the state,

Till Henry, surfeiting in joys of love,

With his new bride, and England's dear-bought queen,
And Humphrey with the peers be fall'n at jars :

Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose,

With whose sweet smell the air shall be perfum'd,
And in my standard bear the arms of York,

To grapple with the house of Lancaster;

And, force perforce, I'll make him yield the crown,
Whose bookish rule hath pull'd fair England down.

SCENE II.

The Same. A Room in the Duke of GLOSTER'S House.

Enter GLOSTER and the Duchess.

Duch. Why droops my lord, like over-ripen'd corn,
Hanging the head at Ceres' plenteous load?

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?
What seest 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.
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,

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:
And may that thought, when I imagine ill
Against my king and nephew, virtuous Henry,

[Exit.

Be my last breathing in this mortal world.

My troublous dream this night doth make me sad.

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, 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.
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 were crown'd;
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 so choleric

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.

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

You do prepare to ride unto St. Alban's,

Whereas the king and queen do mean to hawk.

Glo. I go.

[Exeunt GLOSTER and Messenger.

Duch. Yes, my good lord, I'll follow presently.

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,
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! nay, fear not, man,
We are alone; here's none but thee, and I.

Enter 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 conferr'd 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 questions.

When from Saint Alban's 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:
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.
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.
Sort how it will, I shall have gold for all.

SCENE III.

The Same. A Room in the Palace.

Enter PETER, and Others, with Petitions.

[Exit.

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! would'st any thing with me?

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

tector.

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.

What 's

Suf. Thy wife too! that is some wrong indeed. your's? 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 master, Thomas Horner, for saying, that the duke of York was rightful heir to the crown?

1

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 pursuivant presently. more of your matter before the king.

We'll hear

[Exeunt Servants with PETER. Q. Mar. And as for you, that love to be protected

Under the wings of our protector's grace,

Begin your suits anew, and sue to him.

Away, base cullions! — Suffolk, let them go.

All. Come, let's be gone.

[Tears the Petition.

[Exeunt Petitioners.

Q. Mar. My lord of Suffolk, say, is this the guise,

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;