SCENE I.-London. "An Ante-chamber in the
Enter the DUKE OF NORFOLK, at one door; at the other, the DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM, and the LORD
Buck. I'pray you, who, my lord? Nor. All this was order'd by the good discretion Of the right reverend cardinal of York. Buck. The devil speed him! no man's pie is free'd From his ambitious finger. What had he To do in these fierce vanities? I wonder,
Buck. Good morrow, and well met. How have That such a keech, can with his very bulk you done,
Since last we saw in France?
I thank your grace: Nor. Healthful; and ever since a fresh admirer
Stay'd me a prisoner in my chamber, when Those suns of glory, those two lights of men,' Met in the vale of Arde. Nor. 'Twixt Guynes and Arde: I was then present, saw them salute on horseback; Beheld them, when they lighted, how they clung In their embracement, as they grew together; Which had they, what four thron'd ones could have weigh'd
Such a compounded one? Buck.
I was my chamber's prisoner.
Then you lost The view of earthly glory: Men might say, Till this time, pomp was single; but now married To one above itself. Each following day Became the next day's master, till the last Made former wonders it's: To-day, the French, All clinquant, all in gold, like heathen gods, Shone down the English; and, to-morrow, they Made Britain, India: every man, that stood, Show'd like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were As cherubins, all gilt: the madams too, Not us'd to toil, did almost sweat to bear The pride upon them, that their very labour Was to them as a painting: Now this mask Was cry'd incomparable; and the ensuing night Made it a fool, and beggar. The two kings, Equal in lustre, were now best, now worst, As presence did present them; him in eye Still him in praise: and, being present both, 'Twas said, they saw but one; and no discerner Durst wag his tongue in censure. When these suns (For so they phrase them,) by their heralds challeng'd The noble spirits to arms, they did perform Beyond thought's compass; that former fabulous
Being now seen possible enough, got credit, That Bevis was believ'd.
Ner. As I belong to worship, and affect In honour honesty, the tract of every thing Would by a good discourser lose some life, Which action's self was tongue to. All was royal; To the disposing of it nought rebell'd, Order gave each thing view; the office did Distinctly his full function.
Who did guide, I mean, who set the body and the limbs Of this great sport together, as you guess? Nar. One, certes, that promises no element In such a business.
Upon this French going-out, took he upon him, Without the privity o' the king, to appoint Who should attend on him? He makes up the file Of all the gentry; for the most part such Too, whom as great a charge as little honour He meant to lay upon: and his own letter, The honourable board of council out, Must fetch him in he papers.
I do know Aber. Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that have By this so sicken'd their estates, that never They shall abound as formerly.
Betwixt you and the cardinal. I advise you, (And take it from a heart that wishes towards you Honour and plenteous safety,) that you read The cardinal's malice and his potency Together to consider further, that What his high hatred would effect, wants not A minister in his power: You know his nature, That he's revengeful; and I know, his sword Hath a sharp edge: it's long, and, it may be said, It reaches far; and where 'twill not extend, Thither he darts it. Bosom up my counsel,
We see each grain of gravel, I do know To be corrupt and treasonous.
Say not, treasonous. Buck. To the king I'll say't; and make my vouch as strong
As shore of rock. Attend. This holy fox, Or wolf, or both, (for he is equal ravenous As he is subtle; and as prone to mischief, As able to perform it: his mind and place Infecting one another, yea, reciprocally,) Only to show his pomp as well in France
You'll find it wholesome. Lo, where comes that As here at home, suggests the king our master
That I advise your shunning.
Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, (the purse borne before him,) certain of the Guard, and Two Secretaries with papers. The CARDINAL in his passage fixeth
his eye on BUCKINGHAM, and BUCKINGHAM on him, both full of disdain.
To this last costly treaty, the interview, That swallow'd so much treasure, and like a glass Did break i' the rinsing.
Nor. 'Faith, and so it did. Buck. Pray, give me favour, sir. This cunning
The articles o'the combination drew,
As himself' pleas'd; and they were ratified,
Wol. The duke of Buckingham's surveyor? ha? As he cried, Thus let be: to as much end, Where's his examination?
Wol. Is he in person ready? 1 Secr, Ay, please your grace. Wol. Well, we shall then know more; and Buckingham
Shall lessen this big look.
[Exeunt WOLSEY, and Train. Buck. This butcher's cur is venom-mouth'd, and I Have not the power to muzzle him; therefore, best Not wake him in his slumber. A beggar's book Out-worths a noble's blood.
Nor. What, are you chaf'd? Ask God for temperance; that's the appliance only, Which your disease requires.
Buck. I read in his looks Matter against me; and his eye revil'd Me, as his abject object: at this instant He bores me with some trick: He's gone to the king; I'll follow, and out-stare him.
Nor. Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot That it do singe yourself: We may outrun, By violent swiftness, that which we run at, And lose by over-running. Know you not, The fire, that mounts the liquor till it run o'er, In seeming to augment it, wastes it? Be advis'd: I say again, there is no English soul More stronger to direct you than yourself; If with the sap of reason you would quench, Or but allay, the fire of passion.
As give a crutch to the dead: But our count-car
Has done this, and 'tis well; for worthy Wolsey, Who cannot err, he did it. Now this follows, (Which, as I take it, is a kind of puppy To the old dam, treason,) — Charles the emperor, Under pretence to see the queen his aunt, (For 'twas, indeed, his colour; but he came To whisper Wolsey,) here makes visitation: His fears were, that the interview, betwixt England and France, might, through their amity, Breed him some prejudice; for from this league Peep'd harms that menac'd him: He privily Deals with our cardinal; and, as I trow,- Which I do well; for, I am sure, the emperor Paid ere he promis'd; whereby his suit was grante Ere it was ask'd; but when the way was mad, And pav'd with gold, the emperor thus desir'd ;- That he would please to alter the king's course, And break the foresaid peace. Let the king know, (As soon he shall by me,) that thus the cardinal Does buy and sell his honour as he pleases, And for his own advantage.
I am sorry To hear this of him; and could wish, he were Something mistaken in't.
To see you ta'en from liberty, to look on The business present: 'Tis his highness' pleasure, You shall to the Tower.
Buck. It will help me nothing To plead mine innocence; for that die is on me, Which makes my whitest part black. The will
The will of heaven be done, and the king's pleasure By me obey'd. Brand.
Of these exactions, yet the king our master, (Whose honour heaven shield from soil!) even he
Language unmannerly, yea, such which breaks The sides of loyalty, and almost appears In loud rebellion.
It doth appear: for, upon these taxations, The clothiers all, not able to maintain The many to them 'longing, have put off
The king, to attach lord Montacute; and the bodies The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers, who, Of the duke's confessor, John de la Court,
One Gilbert Peck, his chancellor, —
Buck. These are the limbs of the plot: no more, I hope. Bran. A monk o' the Chartreux.
Buck. My surveyor is false; the o'er-great cardinal
Hath show'd him gold: my life is spann'd already: I am the shadow of poor Buckingham; Whose figure even this instant cloud puts on, My lord, farewell. By dark'ning my clear sun. —
SCENE II. - The Council-Chamber. Cornets. Enter KING HENRY, CARDINAL WOLSEY, the Lords of the Council, Sir THOMAS LOVELL, The KING enters, Officers, and Attendants. leaning on the CARDINAL's shoulder.
K. Hen. My life itself, and the best heart of it, Thanks you for this great care: I stood i' the level Of a full-charg'd confederacy, and give thanks To you that chok'd it. Let be call'd before us That gentleman of Buckingham's: in person I'll bear him his confessions justify;
And point by point the treasons of his master He shall again relate.
The KING takes his State. The Lords of the Council The CARDINAL places take their several places. kimself under the KING's feet, on his right side.
A noise within, crying, Room for the Queen! Enter
the QUEEN, ushered by the DUKES OF NORFOLK The KING riseth from and SUFFOLK: she kneels. his State, takes her up, kisses, and placeth her by him.
Q. Kath. Nay, we must longer kneel; I am a suitor.
K. Hen. Arise, and take place by us:your suit
Never name to us; your have half our power; The other moiety, ere you ask, is given; Repeat your will, and take it.
That you would love yourself; and, in that love, Not unconsider'd leave your honour, nor
The dignity of your office, is the point
Q. Kath. I am solicited, not by a few, And those of true condition, that your subjects Are in great grievance: there have been commissions Sent down among them, which have flaw'd the heart Of all their loyalties: - wherein, although, My good lord cardinal, they vent reproaches Most bitterly on you, as putter-on
Tongues spit their duties out, and cold hearts freeze Allegiance in them; their curses now,
Live where their prayers did; and it's come to pass, That tractable obedience is a slave
To each incensed will. I would, your highness Would give it quick consideration, for There is no primer business.
K. Hen. This is against our pleasure.
I have no further gone in this, than by A single voice; and that not pass'd me, but By learned approbation of the judges.
If I am traduc'd by tongues, which neither know My faculties, nor person, yet will be
The chronicles of my doing, let me say,
'Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brake
That virtue must go through. We must not stint
Our necessary actions, in the fear
To cope malicious censurers; which ever, As ravenous fishes, do a vessel follow That is new trimm'd; but benefit no further Than vainly longing. What we oft do best, By sick interpreters, once weak ones, is Not ours, or not allow'd; what worst, as oft, Q ૧
Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up For our best act. If we shall stand still, In fear our motion will be mock'd or carp'd at, We should take root here where we sit, or sit State statues only.
K. Hen. And with a care, exempt themselves from fear; Things done without example, in their issue Are to be fear'd. Have you a precedent Of this commission? I believe, not any. We must not rend our subjects from our laws, And stick them in our will. Sixth part of each? A trembling contribution! Why, we take, From every tree, lop, bark, and part o'the timber; And, though we leave it with a root, thus hack'd, The air will drink the sap. To every county, Where this is question'd, send our letters, with Free pardon to each man that has denied The force of this commission: Pray, look to't; I put it to your care. Wol. A word with you. [To the Secretary.
Let there be letters writ to every shire, Of the king's grace and pardon. The griev'd com-
When these so noble benefits shall prove
Not well dispos'd, the mind growing once corrupt, They turn to vicious forms, ten times more ugly Than ever they were fair. This man so cómplete, Who was enroll'd 'mongst wonders, and when we, Almost with ravish'd list'ning, could not find His hour of speech a minute; he, my lady, Hath into monstrous habits put the graces That once were his, and is become as black As if besmear'd in hell. Sit by us; you shall hear (This was his gentleman in trust,) of him Things to strike honour sad. Bid him recount The fore-recited practices: whereof We cannot feel too little, hear too much.
The duke being at the Rose, within the parish Saint Lawrence Poultney, did of me demand What was the speech amongst the Londoners Concerning the French journey: I replied, 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, a choice hour To hear from him a matter of some moment : Whom after under the confession's seal He solemnly had sworn, that, what he spoke, My chaplain to no creature living, but To me, should utter, with demure confidence Thus pausingly ensu'd―Neither the king, nor his heirs, (Tell you the duke) shall prosper: bid him strive To gain the love of the commonalty; the duke Shall govern England.
If I know you well, You were the duke's surveyor, and lost your office 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.
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 dan g'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 Lovell's heads
Wel. Stand forth; and with bold spirit relate what Should have gone off.
Ha! what so rank? Ah, ha There's mischief in this man: - Canst thou s
Being at Greenwic After your highness had reprov'd the duke About sir William Blomer,
Of such a time-Being my servant sworn, The duke retain'd him his. But on; Wh
Surv. If, quoth he, I for this had been commil” As, to the Tower, I thought, — I would have play's
The part my father meant to act upon The usurper Richard: who, being at Salisbury,
Though they be never so ridiculous, Nay, let them be unmanly, yet are follow'd. Cham. As far as I see, all the good our English Have got by the late voyage, is but merely
A fit or two o' the face; but they are shrewd ones; For when they hold them, you would swear directly, Their very noses had been counsellors To Pepin, or Clotharius, they keep state so.
Sands. They have all new legs, and lame ones; one would take it,
That never saw them pace before, the spavin, A springhalt reign'd among them. Cham. Death! my lord, Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too, That, sure, they have worn out christendom.
What news, sir Thomas Lovell?
Have got a speeding trick to lay down ladies; A French song, and a fiddle, has no fellow. Sands. The devil fiddle them! I am glad, they're going;
(For, sure, there's no converting of them ;) now, An honest country lord, as I am, beaten
A long time out of play, may bring his plain
And have an hour of hearing; and, by'r lady, Held current musick too.
Your colt's tooth is not cast yet.
Nor shall not, while I have a stump. Cham.
Whither were you a going?
Your lordship is a guest too. Cham. 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.
No doubt, he's noble ; He had a black mouth, that said other of him. Sands. He may, my lord, he has wherewithal; in
I am your lordship's. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV. - The Presence-Chamber in York
Hautboys. A small table under a state for the CARDINAL, a longer table for the guests. Enter at one door ANNE BULLEN, and divers Lords, Ladies, and Gentlewomen, as guests; at another door, enter Sir HENRY GUILDFORD.
Guild. Ladies, a general welcome from his grace Salutes ye 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 welcome, Can make good people. O, my lord, you are tardy;
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