When from Saint Albans we do make return,
We’ll see these things effected to the full.
Here, Hume (giving him money), take this reward.
Make 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 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 buzz 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’ wrack,
And her attainture will be Humphrey’s fall.
Sort how it will, I shall have gold for all.
Exit
1.3 Enter Peter, the armourer’s man, with two or three other Petitioners
FIRST PETITIONER 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.
SECOND PETITIONER Marry, the Lord protect him, for he’s a good man, Jesu bless him.
Enter the Duke of Suffolk and Queen Margaret
⌈FIRST PETITIONER ⌉Here a comes, methinks, and the Queen with him. I’ll be the first, sure.
He goes to meet Suffolk and the Queen
SECOND PETITIONER Come back, foot—this is the Duke of Suffolk and not my Lord Protector.
SUFFOLK (to the First Petitioner) How now, fellow—wouldst anything with me?
FIRST PETITIONER I pray, my lord, pardon me—I took ye for my Lord Protector.
QUEEN MARGARET ⌈seeing his supplication, she reads⌉ ‘Tomy Lord Protector’—are your supplications to his lordship ? Let me see them.
⌈She takes First Petitioner’s supplication⌉
What is thine?
FIRST PETITIONER 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.
SUFFOLK Thy wife too ? That’s some wrong indeed. ⌈To the Second Petitioners⌉ What’s yours?
He takes the supplication
What’s here? (Reads) ‘Against the Duke of Suffolk for
enclosing the commons of Melford’ ! ⌈To the Second
Petitioner⌉ How now, Sir Knave?
SECOND PETITIONER Alas, sir, I am but a poor petitioner of our whole township.
PETER ⌈offering his petition⌉ Against my master, Thomas Horner, for saying that the Duke of York was rightful heir to the crown.
QUEEN MARGARET What sayst thou? Did the Duke of York say he 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 usurer.
QUEEN MARGARET An usurper thou wouldst say.
PETER Ay, forsooth—an usurper.
SUFFOLK (calling within) Who is there?
Enter a servant
Take this fellow in and send for his master with a pursuivant presently. (To Peter) We’ll hear more of your matter before the King. Exit the servant with Peter
QUEEN MARGARET (to the Petitioners)
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.
⌈She⌉ tears the supplication
Away, base cullions! Suffolk, let them go.
ALL PETITIONERS Come, let’s be gone. Exeunt Petitioners
QUEEN MARGARET
My lord of Suffolk, say, is this the guise?
Is this the fashions 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 rann‘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.
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—
That were a state fit for his holiness.
SUFFOLK
Madam, be patient—as I was cause
Your highness came to England, so will I
In England work your grace’s full content.
QUEEN MARGARET
Beside the haught Protector have we Beaufort
The imperious churchman, Somerset, Buckingham,
And grumbling York; and not the least of these
But can do more in England than the King.
SUFFOLK
And he of these that can do most of all
Cannot do more in England than the Nevilles:
Salisbury and Warwick are no simple peers.
QUEEN MARGARET
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.