Saint Lawrence Poultney, did of me demand
What was the speech among the Londoners
Concerning the French journey? I reply'd,
Men fear'd, the French would prove perfidious,
To the king's danger. Presently the duke
Said, 'Twas the fear, indeed'; and that he doubted,
"Twould prove the verity of certain words
Spoke by a holy monk; that oft, says he,
Hath sent to me, wishing me to permit
John de la Court, my chaplain, à choice hour
To hear from him a matter of some moment :
Who (after under the confession's seal
He solemnly had sworn, that, what he spoke,
My chaplain to no creature living, but

Tome,should utter) with demure confidence [heirs,
Thus pausingly ensu'd,—Neither the king, nor his
(Tell you the duke) shall prosper: bid him strive
For the love of the commonalty; the duke
Shall govern England.-

Queen. If I know you well,

officel

You were the duke's surveyor, and lost your
On the complaint o' the tenants: Take good heed,
You charge not in your spleen a noble person,
And spoil your nobler soul; I say, take heed;
Yes, heartily beseech you.

King. Let him on:

Go forward.

Sure. On my soul, I'll speak but truth.

I told my lord the duke, By the devil's illusions The monk might be deceiv'd; and that 'twas dang'rous for him

To ruminate on this so far, until

It forg'd him some design, which, being believ'd,
It was much like to do: He answer'd, Tush!
It can do me no damage: adding further,
That, had the king in his last sickness fail'd,
The cardinal's and Sir Thomas Lovel's heads
Should have gone off.

King. Ha! what, so rank1? Ah, ha! [further?
There's mischief in this man:-

Sure. I can, my liege.

King. Proceed.

Surt. Being at Greenwich,

5

King. A giant traitor!

[freedom,

Wol. Now, madam, may his highness live in
And this man out of prison?
Queen. God mend all!

King. There's something more would out of
thee; What say'st?
[knife,-
Sure. After-the duke his father,—with-the
Hestretch'd him, and, with one hand on his dagger,
Another spread on his breast, mounting his eyes,
10 He did discharge a horrible oath; whose tenour
Was-Were he evil-us'd, he would out-go
His father, by as much as a performance
Does an irresolute purpose.

15

20

25

30

35

-Canst thou say 40

After your highness had reprov'd the duke
About Sir William Blomer,-

King. I remember

Of such a time:-Being my sworn servant,
The duke retain'd him his.-But on; What hence?]

Sure. If, quoth he, I for this had been committed,
As to the Tower, I thought, I would have play'd
The part my father meant to act upon

The usurper Richard: who, being at Salisbury,
Made suit to come in his presence; which,ifgranted,
As he made semblance of his duty, would
Hace put his knife into him.

2

hear of none, but the new proclamation
45 That's clapp'd upon the court gate.
Cham, What is't for?

50

[now è

(For so run the conditions) leave these remnants |55|Of fool, and feather', that they got in France,

Rank weeds are weeds that are grown up to great height and strength. What, says the king, was he advanced to this pitch? Mysteries were allegorical shews, which the mummers of those times exhibited in odd and fantastic habits. Mysteries are used, by an easy figure, for those that exhibited mysteries; and the sense is only, that the travelled Englishmen were metamorphosed, by foreign fashions, into such an uncouth appearance, that they looked like mummers in a mystery. 3A fit of the face seems to be what we now term a grimace, an artificial cast of the countenance. • The stringhalt, or springhalt, is a disease incident to horses, which gives them a convulsive motion in their paces. This does not allude to the feathers anciently worn in the hats and caps of our countrymen fa circumstance to which no ridicule could justly belong), but to an effeminate fashion of young genNemen carrying fans of feathers in their hands. With

With all their honourable points of ignorance
Pertaining thereunto, (as fights, and fireworks;
Abusing better men than they can be,
Out of a foreign wisdom) renouncing clean
The faith they have in tennis, and tall stockings, 5
Short blister'd breeches', and those types of travel,
And understand again like honest men;
Or pack to their old play-fellows: there, I take it,
They may, cum privilegio, wear away
The lag end of their lewdness, and be laugh'd at.
Sands. 'Tis time to give them physick, their
Are grown so catching.
[diseases

Cham. What a loss our ladies
Will have of these trim vanities!

Lov. Ay, marry,

Salutes you all: This night he dedicates
To fair content, and you: none here, he hopes,
In all this noble bevy, has brought with her
One care abroad; he would have all as merry
As first-good company, good wine, good welcom
Can make good people.-O,mylord, youare tard
Enter Lord Chamberlain, Lord Sands, and S
Thomas Lovel.

The very thought of this fair company
10 Clapp'd wings to me.

Cham. You are young, Sir Harry Guilford. Sands. Sir Thomas Lovel, had the cardinal But half my lay-thoughts in him, some of these Should find a running banquet ere they rested, [sons 15 I think, would better please 'em: By my life, They are a sweet society of fair ones.

There will be woe indeed, lords: the sly whore-
Have got a speeding trick to lay down ladies;
A French song, and a fiddle, has no fellow. [going:
Sands. The devil fiddle'em! I am glad, they're
(For, sure, there's no converting of 'em) now
An honest country lord, as I am, beaten

A long time out of play, may bring his plain song,
And have an hour of hearing; and, by 'r lady,
Held current music too.

Cham. Well said, lord Sands;
Your colt's tooth is not cast yet
Sands. No, my lord;.

Nor shall not, while I have a stump.

Cham. Sir Thomas,

Whither were you a-going?

Loc. To the cardinal's;

Your lordship is a guest too.
Cham. O, 'tis true:

This night he makes a supper, and a great one,
To many lords and ladies; there will be
The beauty of this kingdom, I'll assure you.

Lov. That churchman bears a bounteous mind
indeed;

A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us;
His dews fall every where.

Cham. No doubt, he's noble;

He had a black mouth, that said other of him.
Sands. He may, my lord, he has wherewithal;

in him,

20

[fesso

Lov. O, that your lordship were but now con To one or two of these!

Sands. I would, I were;

They should find easy penance.

Lov. 'Faith, how easy?

Sands. As easy as a down-bed would afford it
Cham. Sweet ladies, will it please you sit? Si
Harry,

25 Place you that side, I'll take the charge of this:
His grace is ent'ring.-Nay, you must not freeze
Twowomen plac'd together make cold weather:-
My lord Sands, you are one will keep 'em waking
Pray, sit between these ladies.

30

35

Sands. By my faith,

And thank your lordship.-By your leave, swee

ladies:

If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me;
I had it from my father.

Anne. Was he mad, sir?

[Sits

[too

Sands. O, very mad, exceeding mad, in love
But he would bite none; just as I do now,
He would kiss you twenty with a breath.

40 Cham. Well said, my lord.

[Kisses her.

So, now you are fairly seated:--Gentlemen,
The penance lies on you, if these fair ladies
Pass away frowning.

Sands. For my little cure,

Sparing would shew a worse sin than ill doctrine: 45 Let me alone.

Men of his way should be most liberal,

They are set here for examples.

Cham. True, they are so;

But few now give so great ones. My barge stays;

Your lordship shall along:

-Come, good Sir50

Thomas,

We shall be late else; which I would not be,
For I was spoke to, with Sir Henry Guilford,
This night to be comptrollers.

Sands. I am your lordship's.
SCENE IV.

Hautboys. Enter Cardinal Wolsey, and takes his

state.

Wol. You are welcome, my fair guests; that noble lady,

Or gentleman, that is not freely merry,

Is not my friend: This, to confirm my welcome;
And to you all good health.
[Drinks.

grace

is noble :

Sands. Your
Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks,

[Exeunt. 55 And save me so much talking.

Changes to York-Place. Hautboys. A small table under a state for the Cardinal, a longer table for the guests. Then enter Anne Bullen, and divers other Ladies and Gen-60 tlewomen, as guests, at one door; at another door, enter Sir Henry Guilford

Wol. My lord Sands,

I am beholden to you:-cheer your neighbours:
Ladies, you are not merry;-Gentlemen,
Whose fault is this?

1

Sands. The red wine first must rise
In their fair cheeks, my lord; then we shall have'em

Talle

Wol. What warlike voice?
And to what end is this?-Nay, ladies, fear not;
By all the laws of war you are privileg'd.
Re-enter Sercant.

Cham. How now? what is't?

Serv. A noble troop of strangers;

For so they seem: they have let their barge, and
landed;

And hither make, as great ambassadors
From foreign princes.

Wol. Good lord chamberlain,

Go, give'em welcome, you can speak the French

tongue;

15

20

25

And, pray, receive 'em nobly, and conduct 'em
Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty
Shall shine at full upon them:-Some attendhini.-
[All arise, and tables removed.
Youhave now a broken banquet; but we'll mend it.
A good digestion to you all: and, once more,
I shower a welcome on you;-Welcome all. 30
Hautboys. Enter the King, and others, as Maskers,
habited like Shepherds, usher'd by the Lord
Chamberlain. They pass directly before the
Cardinal, and gracefully salute him.
A noble company! What are their pleasures?
Cham. Because they speak no English, thus
they pray'd

To tell your grace;-That, having heard by fame
Of this so noble and so fair assembly

This night to meet here, they could do no less,
Out of the great respect they bear to beauty,
But leave their flocks; and, underyour fair conduct,
Crave leave to view these ladies, and entreat
An hour of revels with them.

35

Cham. I will, my lord.

[Cham, goes to the company, and returns. Wol. What say they?

Cham. Such a one, they all confess,
There is indeed; which they would have your grace
Find out, and he will take it '.

Wol. I am glad,

4

Your grace is grown so pleasant.

King. My lord chamberlain,

Pr'ythee, come hither: What fair lady's that? Cham. An't please your grace, Sir Thomas Bullen's daughter,

Theviscount Rochford, oneof herhighness'women. King. By heaven, she is a dainty one.-Sweet heart,

I were unmannerly, to take you out,

[To Anne Bullen. And not to kiss you'.—A health, gentlemen, Let it go round.

Wol. Sir Thomas Lovel, is the banquet ready I' the privy chamber?

Lov. Yes, my lord.

Wol. Your grace,

I

fear, with dancing is a little heated,

40

King. I fear, too much.

Wol. There's fresher air, my lord,

In the next chamber.

[partner,

King. Lead in your ladies, every one.-Sweet
I must not yet forsake you:-Let's be merry;—
Good my lord cardinal, I have half a dozen healths
To drink to these fair ladies, and a measure
To lead them once again; and then let's dream
Who's best in favour,--Let the musick knock it.
[Exeunt, with trumpets.

1i. e. if I make my party. A chamber is a gun (used only on occasions of rejoicing) which stands erect on its breech, and so contrived as to carry great charges, and thereby to make a noise more than proportioned to its bulk. They are called chambers, because they are mere chambers to lodge powder; a chamber being the technical term for that cavity in a piece of ordnance which contains the combustibles. Chambers are still fired in the Park, and at the places opposite to the Parliament-house, when the king goes thither. 3 i. e. take the chief place. i. e. unluckily, mischievously. kiss was anciently the established fee of a lady's partner.

ACT

SCENE I.

A Street.

Enter two Gentlemen at several doors.

3 Gent. WHITHER away so fast?

2 Gent. O,-God save you !

Even to the hall, to hear what shall become

Of the great duke of Buckingham.

1 Gent. I'll save you

Then deputy of Ireland; who remov'd,
Earl Surrey was sent thither, and in haste too
Lest he should help his father.

2 Gent. That trick of state

5 Was a deep envious one.

1 Gent. At his return,

No doubt, he will requite it. This is noted,
And generally; whoever the king favours,
The cardinal instantly will find employment,

That labour,sir. All's now done, but the ceremony 10 And far enough from court too,

Of bringing back the prisoner.

2 Gent. Were you there?

1 Gent. Yes, indeed, was I.

2 Gent. Pray, speak, what has happen'd?

1 Gent. You may guess quickly what.

2 Gent. Is he found guilty?

1 Gent. Yes,truly, is he, and condemn'd upon it. 2 Gent. I am sorry for't.

1 Gent. So are a number more.

2 Gent. But, pray, how pass'd it?

1 Gent. I'll tell you in a little. The great duke
Came to the bar; where, to his accusations,
He pleaded still, not guilty, and alledg'd
Many sharp reasons to defeat the law."
The king's attorney, on the contrary,
Urg'd on the examinations, proofs, confessions
Of divers witnesses; which the duke desir'd
To have brought, vivú voce, to his face :
At which appear'd against him, his surveyor;

2 Gent. All the commons

Hate him perniciously, and, o' my conscience Wish him ten fathom deep: this duke as mu They love and doat on; call him, bounteous Bud 15 The mirrour of all courtesy ;— [ingha

20

1 Gent. Stay there, sir,

And see the noble ruin'd man you speak of. Enter Buckingham from his arraignment, (T staves before him, the axe with the edge towa him; halberds on each side,) accompanied w Sir Thomas Lovel, Sir Nicholas Vaux, Sir W liam Sands, and common people, &e.

2 Gent. Let's stand close, and behold him.
Buck. All good people,

25 You that thus far have come to pity me,
Hear what I say, and then go home and lose m
I have this day receiv'd a traitor's judgement,
And by that name must die; Yet, Heaven bo
witness,

Sir Gilbert Peck his chancellor; and John Court, 30 And, if I have a conscience, let it sink me,
Confessor to him; with that devil monk

Hopkins, that made this mischief.

2 Gent. That was he,

That fed him with his prophecies?

1 Gent. The same.

[not:

All these accus'd him strongly; which he fain
Would have flung from him, but, indeed, he could
And so his peers, upon this evidence,
Have found him guilty of high treason. Much
He spoke, and learnedly, for life; but all
Was either pitied in him, or forgotten.

2 Gent. After all this, how did he bear himself?
1 Gent. When he was brought again to the bar,
-to hear

His knell rung out, his judgement,—he was stirr'd
With such an agony, he sweat extremely,
And something spoke in choler, ill, and hasty:
But he fell to himself again, and, sweetly,
In all the rest shew'd a most noble patience.
2 Gent. I do not think, he fears death.

1 Gent. Sure, he does not,

He never was so womanish; the cause

He may a little grieve at.

2 Gent. Certainly,

The cardinal is the end of this.

1 Gent. 'Tis likely,

By all conjectures: First, Kildare's attainder,

35

40

45

Even as the axe falls, if I be not faithful!
The law I bear no malice for my death,
T has done, upon the premises, but justice;
But those, that sought it, I could wish mo
christians:

Be what they will, I heartily forgive 'em:
Yet let 'em look they glory not in mischief,
Nor build their evils on the graves of great mer
For then my guiltless blood must cry against 'er
For further life in this world I ne'er hope,
Nor will I sue, although the king have mercie
More than I dare make faults. You few th
lov'd me,

And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham,
His noble friends, and fellows, whom to leave
Is only bitter to him, only dying,
Go with me, like good angels, to my end;
And, as the long divorce of steel falls on me,
Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice,
50 And lift my soul to heaven.-Lead on, o' God

155

name.

Lov. I do beseech your grace, for charity,
If ever any malice in your heart
Were hid against me, now to forgive me frankl
Buck. Sir Thomas Lovel, I as free forgive yo
As I would be forgiven: I forgive all;
There cannot be those numberless offences

And, if he speak of Buckingham, pray, tell him,
You met him half in heaven: my vows and 5

Vaux. Prepare there,

The duke is coming; see, the barge be ready;
And fit it with such furniture, as suits
The greatness of his person.

Buck. Nay, Si Nicholas,

Let it alone; my state now will but mock me.
When I came hither, I was lord high constable,
And duke of Buckingham; now, poor Edward
Bohun:

Yet I am richer than my base accusers,
That never knew what truth meant: I now seal it;
And with that blood, will make 'em one day
groan for't.

10

My noble father, Henry of Buckingham,
Who first rais'd lead against usurping Richard,
Flying for succour to his servant Banister,
Being distress'd, was by that wretch betray'd,
And w thout trial fell; God's peace be with him!
Henry the seventh succeeding, truly pitying
fly fathers loss, like a most royal prince,
Restor'd me to my honours, and, out of ruins,
Made my name once more noble. Now his son,
Henry the eighth, life, honour, name, and all
That made me happy, at one stroke has taken
For ever from the world. I had my trial,
And, must needs say, a noble one; which makes me
A little happier than my wretched father:
Yet thus far we are one in fortunes,-both
Fell by our servants, by those men we loved
most;

2 Gent. If the duke be guiltle Tis full of woe: yet I can give Of an ensuing evil, if it fall, Greater than this.

1 Gent. Good angels keep it fr What may it be? You do not do 2 Gent. This secret is so weigh A strong faith to conceal it. 1 Gent. Let me have it; I do not talk much.

2 Gent. I am confident; 15 You shall, sir: Did you not of 1 A buzzing, of a separation Between the king and Katharine

A most unnatural and faithless service!
Heaven has an end in all: Yet, you that hear me,
This from a dying man receive as certain:-
Where you are liberal of your loves and counsels,
Be sure, you be not loose; for those you make
friends,

1 Gent. Yes, but it held not: For when the king once heard it, 20 He sent command to the lord m To stop the rumour, and allay th That durst disperse it.

2 Gent. But that slander, sir, Is found a truth now: for it grow 25 Fresher than e'er it was; and hel The king will venture at it. Eith Or some about him near, have, o To the good queen, possess'd hin That will undo her: To confirm 30 Cardinal Campeius is arriv'd, an As all think, for this business.

1 Gent. "Tis the cardinal; And merely to revenge him on th For not bestowing on him, at his 35 The archbishoprick of Toledo, th 2 Gent. I think, you have hit the not cruel,

That she should feel the smart of
dinal

40 Will have his will, and she must f
1 Gent. 'Tis woeful.
We are too open here to argue th
Let's think in private more.

An Antichamber in the P Enter the Lord Chamberlain, rea My lord, the horses your lordshi furnished. They were young, and all the care I had, I saw well chose of the best breed in the north. When to set out for London, a man of my by commission, and main power, too 55a subject, if not before the king: wh with this reason,-His masterwould mouths, sir.

60

I fear, he will, indeed: Well, let hi
He will have all, I think.

Enter the Dukes of Norfolk an
Nor. Well met, my lord chamb
Cham. Good day to both your g

! Meaning, that envy should not procure or advance his death.

i. e. great f