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GLOUCESTER's garden.

and BOLINGBROKE. HUME. Come, my masters; the duchess, I tell you, expects performance of your promises.

Boling. Master Hume, we are therefore provided: will her ladyship behold and hear our exorcisms? HUME. Ay, what else? fear you

not her

courage. BOLING. I have heard her reported to be a woman of an invincible spirit : but it shall be convenient, Master Hume, that you be by her aloft, while we be busy below; and so, I

pray you, go, in God's name, and leave us. [Exit HUME] Mother Jourdain, be you prostrate and grovel on the earth; John Southwell, read you; and let us to our work.

Enter Duchess aloft, HUME following.
Duch. Well said, my masters; and welcome all.
To this


sooner the better. BOLING. Patience, good lady; wizards know

their times : Deep night, dark night, the silent of the night, The time of night when Troy was set on fire; The time when screech-owls cry and ban-dogs

howl And spirits walk and ghosts break up their graves, That time best fits the work we have in hand. Madam, sit you and fear not: whom we raise,

We will make fast within a hallow'd verge. [Here they do the ceremonies belonging, and make

the circle ; BOLINGBROKE or SOUTHWELL reads, Conjuro te, etc. It thunders and

lightens terribly; then the Spirit riseth. SPIR. Adsum.

M. JOURD. Asmath, By the eternal God, whose name and power Thou tremblest at, answer that I shall ask; For, till thou speak, thou shalt not pass froin hence. SPIR. Ask what thou wilt. That I had said

and done! Boling. First of the king : what shall of him become ?

[Reading out of a paper. Spir. The duke yet lives that Henry shall de

pose ; But him outlive, and die a violent death.

[As the Spirit speaks, SOUTHWELL writes

the answer. Boline. What fates await 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! False fiend, avoid !

[Thunder and lightning. Exit Spirit

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Enter the Duke of York and the DUKE OF Buck

INGHAM with their Guard and break in.
York. Lay hands upon these traitors and their

Beldam, I think we watch'd


at an inch.
What, madam, are you there? the king and

Are deeply indebted for this piece of pains:
My lord protector will, I doubt it not,

you well guerdon'd for these good deserts.
Duch. Not half so bad as thine to England's king,
Injurious duke, that threatest where's no cause.
Buck. True, madam, none at all: what call you

Away with them! let them be clapp'd up close,
And kept asunder. You, madam, shall with us.
Stafford, take her to thee.

[Exeunt above Duchess and Hume, guarded.
We'll see your trinkets here all forthcoming.
All, away!

[Exeunt Guard with JOURDAIN, SOUTHWELL, etc. YORK. Lord Buckingham, methinks, you watch'd

her well:
A pretty plot, well chosen to build upon !
Now, pray, my lord, let's see the devil's writ.
What have we here?

The duke yet lives, that Henry shall depose ;
But him outlive, and die a violent death.
Why, this is just
Aio te, Æacida, 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 hardly attain'd,
And hardly understood.
The king is now in progress towards Saint Alban's,
With him the husband of this lovely lady:
Thither go these news, as fast as horse can carry

them :
breakfast for


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 !

Enter a Serving-man. Invite my

Lords of Salisbury and Warwick To sup with me to-morrow night. Away! [Exeunt.



Saint Alban's. Enter the King, QUEEN, GLOUCESTER, CARDINAL,

and SUFFOLK, with Falconers halloing. QUEEN. Believe me, lords, for flying at the brook,

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.
KING. But what a point, my lord, your falcon

And what a pitch she flew above the rest !
To see how God in all his creatures works!
Yea, man and birds are fain of climbing high.

Sur. 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.

Glou. My lord, 'tis but a base ignoble mind That mounts no higher than a bird can soar. Car. I thought as much; he would be above

the clouds. Glou. Ay,my lord cardinal? how think you by that? Were it not good your grace could fly to heaven?

King. The treasury of everlasting joy.
Car. Thy heaven is on earth; thine eyes and

Beat on a crown, the treasure of thy heart;
Pernicious protector, dangerous peer,
That smooth’st it so with king and commonweal !
Glou. What, cardinal, is your priesthood grown

peremptory? Tantæne animis coelestibus irce ? Churchmen so hot? good uncle, hide such malice; With such holiness can you do it?

Sur. No malice, sir; no more than well becomes So good a quarrel and so bad a peer.

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