Were I a man, a duke, and next of blood, I would remove these tedious stumbling-blocks And smooth my way upon their headless necks
If I were a man, a duke, and next in line, I'd remove these annoying obstacles And clear my path over their necks, chopped off
Eleanor Cobham, Duchess of Gloucester · Act 1, Scene 2
Eleanor, Gloucester's wife, reveals her hunger for power in a moment of bitter honesty. She wishes she were not constrained by her gender and rank, and this line shows ambition as a force that corrupts even a noblewoman into fantasizing about bloodshed. Her words foreshadow her downfall—she will be punished for trying to seize the power that gender and law have forbidden her.
Follow I must; I cannot go before, While Gloucester bears this base and humble mind. Were I a man, a duke, and next of blood, I would remove these tedious stumbling-blocks And smooth my way upon their headless necks; And, being a woman, I will not be slack To play my part in Fortune’s pageant. Where are you there? Sir John! nay, fear not, man, We are alone; here’s none but thee and I.
I must follow; I can’t go ahead, While Gloucester holds such a low and humble mind. If I were a man, a duke, and next in line, I’d remove these annoying obstacles And clear my path over their necks, chopped off; But, being a woman, I won’t be slow To play my part in the game of fortune. Where are you? Sir John! No need to be afraid, We’re alone; it’s just you and me.
Eleanor Cobham, Duchess of Gloucester · Act 1, Scene 2
Eleanor has just learned that her husband is too humble to seize the crown, and now she declares that she will play her part in Fortune's pageant even though she is a woman. The lines matter because Eleanor names her own constraints and refuses them—she will not be held back by her sex, and she calls for her co-conspirator Sir John Hume to begin their plot. It reveals that Eleanor's corruption of Humphrey comes from her own hunger, not from his weakness, and that she sees ambition as a game anyone can win.
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.
Hume must enjoy the duchess’ gold; Indeed, he will. But now, Sir John Hume! Seal your lips, and don’t speak a word: This business requires silence and secrecy. Lady Eleanor gives gold to summon the witch: Gold is always useful, even if she’s a devil. Still, I have gold from another source; I won’t say it’s from the rich cardinal Or from the newly appointed Duke of Suffolk, But I know it is; to be honest, They, knowing Lady Eleanor’s ambitious nature, Have hired me to undermine the duchess And plant these thoughts in her mind. They say, “A crafty rogue doesn’t need a middleman;” Yet I am the middleman for Suffolk and the cardinal. Hume, if you’re not careful, you’ll almost call them both A pair of crafty rogues. Well, that’s how it is; and I fear, in the end, Hume’s trickery will cause the duchess’s downfall, And her disgrace will be Humphrey’s ruin: However it goes, I’ll get gold for all of it.
Sir John Hume · Act 1, Scene 2
Hume stands alone after the witchcraft plot and confesses that he is a broker for multiple masters—Eleanor, Suffolk, the Cardinal—and that he will profit from whoever falls. The soliloquy matters because it lays bare the machinery of court corruption: there are no loyalties, only transactions, and men like Hume make their living by selling the ambitions of others. Hume knows his own knavery will lead to ruin, but he takes the gold anyway, showing that complicity buys silence even from conscience.
