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. (1.2.100–107)
The priest Sir John Hume speaks these words in an aside after accepting gold from the Duchess, who has enlisted his help in procuring the aid of occultists. Although he initially seemed to be a friend to Gloucester’s wife, here Hume reveals that he’s also taken money from Suffolk and Winchester, who have hired him to help them catch the Duchess in the act of conjuring spirits. In this way, Hume is involved in a double plot. He reflects here on how his involvement will bring the Duchess ruin, which in turn will cause Gloucester’s downfall. However, he doesn’t anticipate how his participation will also imperil him. For indeed, Hume will later be sentenced to death alongside the witch and the conjurer who help the Duchess raise a spirit.
Do you, as I do, in these dangerous days,
Wink at the Duke of Suffolk’s insolence,
At Beaufort’s pride, at Somerset’s ambition,
At Buckingham, and all the crew of them,
Till they have snared the shepherd of the flock,
That virtuous prince, the good Duke Humphrey.
’Tis that they seek, and they, in seeking that,
Shall find their deaths, if York can prophesy. (2.2.69–76)
York addresses these words to Salisbury and Warwick, to whom he has just explained the details of his claim to the throne. Both men believe in the righteousness of York’s claim, and they are eager to throw their support behind him. But when they address him as king, York is quick to temper their enthusiasm and call for patience. He knows how dangerous his plot for the throne is, and he cautions his allies to tread carefully. The best way to proceed, he says, is to pretend to support the prideful ambitions of Suffolk, Winchester, Somerset, and Buckingham. York knows that these men’s plotting will end up getting them killed. And however useful their deaths will be for his own cause, York also wants to avoid unnecessarily imperiling his own plot.
Alive again? Then show me where he is.
I’ll give a thousand pound to look upon him.
He hath no eyes! The dust hath blinded them.
Comb down his hair. Look, look. It stands upright,
Like lime-twigs set to catch my wingèd soul.
Give me some drink, and bid the apothecary
Bring the strong poison that I bought of him. (3.3.12–18)
These are Cardinal Winchester’s final words in the play, which he delivers as he’s dying of a sudden and mysterious illness. He appears to be having a hallucinatory vision of Gloucester, whom he thinks has returned from the dead. The harrowing image he describes is that of a cloudy-eyed man with hair standing on end, which he likens to “lime-twigs set to catch my wingèd soul.” The term lime-twigs echoes a recurring reference in the play to a sticky substance called lime that is used to trap birds. Suffolk, for instance, tells Margaret he’s laid a snare for the Duchess by saying, “Madam, myself have limed a bush for her” (1.3.91). When Winchester echoes the idea of the limed bush, he symbolically links his own death to Gloucester’s—that is, he was caught in his own trap, and now he’s essentially dying of his own guilt. As we soon see, Suffolk will succumb to a similar fate.