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Follow I must; I cannot go before,
advice, Your grace's title shall be multiplied. Duch. What say'st thou, man? hast thou as yet
Duch. It is enough; I'll think upon the questions:
merry, man, With thy confederates in this weighty cause. [Exit.
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 fies 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. [Exit.
Armourer's man, being one. First Petit. 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.
Sec. Petit. Marry, the Lord protect him, for he's a good man! Jesu bless him!
Enter SUFFOLK and QUEEN. PETER. Here a' comes, methinks, and the queen with him. I'll be the first, sure.
Sec. Petit. Come back, fool; this is the Duke of Suffolk, and not my lord protector.
Suf. How now, fellow! wouldst any thing with me?
First Petit. I pray, my lord, pardon me; I took
lord protector. Queen. [Reading] To my Lord Protector! Are your supplications to his lordship? Let me see them: what is thine ?
First Petit. 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.
Sur. Thy wife too ! that's some wrong indeed. What's yours? What's here! [Reads] Against the Duke of Suffolk, for enclosing the commons of Melford. How
sir knave! Sec. Petit. Alas, sir, I am but a poor petitioner of our whole township.
PETER. [Giving his pelition) Against my master, Thomas Horner, for saying that the Duke of York was rightful heir to the crown.
QUEEN. What say'st thou ? did the Duke of York
was rightful heir to the crown? Peter. That my master was ? no, forsooth: my master said that he was, and that the king was an usurper.
Sur. Who is there? [Enter Servant.] Take this fellow in, and send for his master with a pursuivant presently: we'll hear more of your
matter before the king.
[Exit Servant with PETER. QUEEN. 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.
[Tears the supplications. Away, base cullions! Suffolk, let them go. All. Come, let's be gone.
Exeunt. QUEEN. 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 Gloucester's governance ? Am I a queen in title and in style, And must be made a subject to a duke? I tell thee, Pole, when in the city Tours Thou ran'st a tilt in honour of
love And stolest away the ladies' hearts of France, I thought King Henry had resembled thee
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 saws of sacred writ, His study is his tilt-yard, and his loves Are brazen images of canonized saints. I would the college of the cardinals Would choose him pope and carry him to Rome,
And set the triple crown upon his head :
Suf. Madam, be patient: as I was cause
Beaufort The imperious churchman, Somerset, Buckingham, And grumbling York; and not the least of these But can do more in England than the king.
Suf. 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. QUEEN. Not all these lords do vex me half so
much As that proud dame, the lord protector's wife. She sweeps it through the court with troops of ladies, 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 our poverty : Shall I not live to be avenged on her? Contemptuous base-born callet as she is, She vaunted ’mongst her minions t'other day, The very train of her worst wearing gown Was better worth than all
Sur. Madam, myself have limed a bush for her,