William Shakespeare's Second Part of King Henry the Sixth in the complete original text.
William Shakespeare's plays, sonnets and poems at AbsoluteShakespeare.com
Home Plays Sonnets Poems Quotes Summaries Essays Glossary Links Help

HOME > Plays > Second Part of King Henry the Sixth > Act I. Scene IV.

Second Part of King Henry the Sixth

Study Guides
Hamlet
Julius Caesar
King Henry IV
King Lear
Macbeth
Merchant of Venice
Othello
Romeo and Juliet
The Tempest
Twelfth Night

Trivia
Authorship
Bard Facts
Bibliography
Biography
FAQ
Films
Globe Theatre
Pictures
Quiz
Timeline

Act I. Scene IV.

Scene IV.—The Same. The DUKE OF
GLOUCESTER'S Garden.

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 pro-
vided. 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 con-
venient, 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 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 belong-
ing, 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 28
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 outhve, 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.

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 outhve, and die a violent death.
Why, this is just,
Aio te, Æacida, Romanes 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!

Enter a Serving-man.
Invite my Lords of Salisbury and Warwick
To sup with me to-morrow night. Away!
[Flourish. Exeunt.
< PREVIOUS
Copyright 2000-2005 AbsoluteShakespeare.com. All rights reserved.  Contact Us  Privacy  Awards