The Same. The DUKE OF GLOUCESTER'S Garden. |
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Enter MARGERY JOURDAIN, HUME, SOUTHWELL, 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 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. |
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Enter DUCHESS aloft, HUME following. |
Duch. Well said, my masters, and welcome all. |
To this gear the 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 perform the ceremonies belonging, and make the circle; BOLINGBROKE, or SOUTHWELL reads, Conjuro te, &c. 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 from hence. |
Spir. Ask what thou wilt. That I had said and done! |
Boling. First, of the king: what shall of him become? |
Spir. The Duke yet lives that Henry shall depose; |
But him outlive, and die a violent death. [As the Spirit speaks, SOUTHWELL writes the answers. |
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! |
False fiend, avoid! [Thunder and lightning. Spirit descends. |
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Enter YORK and BUCKINGHAM, hastily, with their Guards, and Others. |
York. Lay hands upon these traitors and their trash. |
Beldam, I'think we watch'd you at an inch. |
What! madam, are you there? the king and commonweal |
Are deeply indebted for this piece of pains: |
My Lord Protector will, I doubt it not, |
See you well guerdon'd for these good deserts. |
Duch. Not half so bad as thine to England's king, |
Injurious duke, that threat'st where is no cause. |
Buck. True, madam, none at all. What call you this? [Showing her the papers. |
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 SOUTHWELL, BOLINGBROKE, &c., guarded. |
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, |
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! |
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Enter a Serving-man. |
Invite my Lords of Salisbury and Warwick |
To sup with me to-morrow night. Away! [Flourish. Exeunt. |
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