have promised, to show your highness A spirit raised from depth of under-ground, That shall make answer to such questions As by your grace shall be propounded him. It is enough; I'll think upon the questions: When from St. Alban's we do make return, We'll see these things effected to the full. Here, Hume, take this reward; make merry, man, With thy confederates in this weighty cause. 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 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. 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. Marry, the Lord protect him, for he's a good man! Jesu bless him! Here a' comes, methinks, and the queen with him. I'll be the first, sure. Come back, fool; this is the Duke of Suffolk, and not my lord protector. How now, fellow! would'st anything with me? I pray, my lord, pardon me; I took ye for my lord protector. 'To my Lord Protector!' Are your supplications to his lordship? Let me see them: what is thine? 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. Thy wife, too! that's some wrong, indeed. What's yours? What's here! 'Against the Duke of Suffolk, for enclosing the commons of Melford.' How now, sir knave! Alas, sir, I am but a poor petitioner of our whole township. Against my master, Thomas Horner, for saying that the Duke of York was rightful