From top of honour to difgrace's feet? Away from me, and let me hear no more. Elean. What, what, my lord! are you fo 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 Meffenger. Me. My lord protector, 'tis his highnefs pleasure, You do prepare to ride unto Saint Alban's, Whereas the king and queen do mean to hawk. Glo. I go.-Come, Nell, thou wilt ride with us. Elean. Yes, my good lord, I'll follow presently. [Exit GLOSTER. Follow I muft, I cannot go before, While Glofter bears this bafe and humble mind. Where are you here? Sir John! nay, fear not man, Enter HUME. Hume. Jefu preferve your royal majefty! With Margery Jourdain the cunning witch; B And And will they undertake to do me good? A fpirit rais'd from depth of under ground, gold; Marry, and fhall. But, how now, Sir John Hume Dame Eleanor gives gold, to bring the witch: And from the great and new-nade duke of Suffolk They, knowing dame Eleaner's afpiring humour SCEN SCENE III. An Apartment in the Palace. Enter three or four Petitioners, PETER the Armourer's Man, being one. 1 Pet. My masters, let's ftand clofe; my lord protector will come this way by and by, and then we may deliver our fupplications in the quill. 2 Pet. Marry, the lord protect him, for he's a good man! Jefu blefs him! Enter SUFFOLK, and Queen. 1 Pet. Here 'a comes, methinks, and the queen with him: I'll be the firft, fure. 2 Pet. Come back, fool; this is the duke of Suf folk, 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 protector. 2. Mar. For my lord protector! are your fupplications to his lordship? Let me fee 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 fome wrong, indeed. What's yours? what's here? [reads.] Against the duke of Suffolk, for enclosing the commons of Melford. How now, fir knave? 2 Pet. Alas, fir, I am but a poor petitioner of our whole township. Peter. Against my mafter, Thomas Horner, for B 2 faying faying, That the duke of York was rightful hei to the crown, 2. Mar. What fay'ft thou? Did the duke of York fay, he was rightful heir unto the crown? Peter. That my mistress was? no, forfooth: my master said, That he was? and that the king wa an ufurper. Suf, Who is there?—Take this fellow in, and fend for his mafter with a purfuivant prefently:we'll hear more of your matter before the king. [Exit PETER guarded. 2. Mar. And as for you, that love to be protected Under the wings of our protector's grace, Begin your fuits anew, and fue to him. [Tears the Petitions. Away, bafe cullions!-Suffolk, let them go. Alt. Come, let's be gone. [Exeunt Petitioners. 2 Mar My lord of Suffolk, fay, is this the guife, Is this the fashion in the court of England? Is this the government of Britain's ifle, And this the royalty of Albion's king? What! fhall king Henry be a pupil still, Under the furly Glofter's governance? Am I a queen in title and in ftyle, And must be made a subject to a duke? I tell thee, Pople, when in the city Tours Thou ran'st a tilt in honour of my love, And ftol'ft away the ladies' hearts of France; I thought king Henry had refembled thee, In courage, courtship, and proportion: But all his mind is bent to holinefs, To number Ave-Maries on his beads: His champions are-the prophets and apofiles; His weapons, holy faws of facred writ; His ftudy is his tilt-yard, and his loves Would choose him pope, and carry him to Rome, Suf. Madam, be patient: as I was caufe The imperious churchman; Somerfet, Buckingham, And grumbling York: and not the leaft of thefe, But can do more in England than the king. Suf. And he of thefe, that can do most of all, Cannot do more in England than the Nevils: Salisbury, and Warwick, are no fimple peers. 2. Mar. Not all thefelords do vex me half fo much, As that proud dame, the lord protector's wife. She fweeps it through the court with troops of ladies, More like an emprefs 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 fhe fcorns our poverty: Shall I not live to be aveng'd on her? Contemptuous bafe-born callat as fhe 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. Suf. Madam, myself have lim'd a bufh for her; And plac'd a quire of fuch enticing birds, That the will light to liften to their lays, And never mount to trouble you again. |