| ACT I SCENE IV | GLOUCESTER's garden. | |
| | Enter MARGARET JOURDAIN, HUME, SOUTHWELL, andBOLINGBROKE | |
| HUME | Come, my masters; the duchess, I tell you, expects | |
| | performance of your promises. | |
| BOLINGBROKE | Master Hume, we are therefore provided: will her | |
| | ladyship behold and hear our exorcisms? | 5 |
| HUME | Ay, what else? fear you not her courage. | |
| BOLINGBROKE | 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, | 10 |
| | 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 the DUCHESS aloft, HUME following | |
| DUCHESS | Well said, my masters; and welcome all. To this | 15 |
| | gear the sooner the better. | |
| BOLINGBROKE | 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, | 20 |
| | 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 thecircle; BOLINGBROKE or SOUTHWELL reads, Conjuro te, then theSpirit riseth | |
| Spirit | Adsum. | 25 |
| MARGARET JOURDAIN | 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. | |
| Spirit | Ask what thou wilt. That I had said and done! | 30 |
| BOLINGBROKE | 'First of the king: what shall of him become?' | |
| | Reading out of a paper | |
| Spirit | The duke yet lives that Henry shall depose; | |
| | But him outlive, and die a violent death. | |
| | As the Spirit speaks, SOUTHWELL writes the answer | |
| BOLINGBROKE | 'What fates await the Duke of Suffolk?' | |
| Spirit | By water shall he die, and take his end. | 35 |
| BOLINGBROKE | 'What shall befall the Duke of Somerset?' | |
| Spirit | 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. | 40 |
| BOLINGBROKE | Descend to darkness and the burning lake! | |
| | False fiend, avoid! | |
| | Thunder and lightning. Exit Spirit | |
| | Enter YORK and BUCKINGHAM with their Guardand break in | |
| 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 | 45 |
| | 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. | |
| DUCHESS | Not half so bad as thine to England's king, | |
| | Injurious duke, that threatest where's no cause. | 50 |
| BUCKINGHAM | True, madam, none at all: what call you this? | |
| | 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. | 55 |
| | All, away! | |
| | Exeunt guard with MARGARET JOURDAIN, SOUTHWELL, &c | |
| 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? | 60 |
| | Reads | |
| | 'The duke yet lives, that Henry shall depose; | |
| | But him outlive, and die a violent death.' | |
| | Why, this is just | |
| | 'Aio te, AEacida, Romanos vincere posse.' | |
| | Well, to the rest: | 65 |
| | '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 | 70 |
| | 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, | 75 |
| | 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. | |
| BUCKINGHAM | Your grace shall give me leave, my Lord of York, | 80 |
| | To be the post, in hope of his reward. | |
| YORK | At your pleasure, my good lord. Who's within | |
| | there, ho! | |
| | Enter a Servingman | |
| | Invite my Lords of Salisbury and Warwick | |
| | To sup with me to-morrow night. Away! | 85 |
| | Exeunt | |