SCENE II. The Council-Chamber. Cornets. Enter King HENRY, Cardinal WOLSEY, the Lords of the Council, Sir THOMAS LOVELL, Officers, and Attendants. The King enters leaning on the Cardinal's shoulder. K. Hen. My life itself, and the best heart of it, And point by point the treasons of his master The King takes his state. The Lords of the Council take their several places. The Cardinal places himself 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 and SUFFOLK she kneels, The King riseth from 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:-Half your suit Never name to us; you have half our power: The other moiety, ere you ask, is given; Q. Kath. Thank your majesty. That you would love yourself; and, in that love, Not unconsider'd leave your honour, nor The dignity of your office, is the point Of my petition. K. Hen. Lady mine, proceed. 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 hath flaw'd the heart Of all their loyalties:wherein, although, My good lord cardinal, they vent reproaches Most bitterly on you, as putter-on Of these exactions, yet the king our master, (Whose honour heaven shield from soil!) even he escapes not Language unmannerly, yea, such which breaks In loud rebellion. Not almost appears, Nor. K. Hen. Taxation! Wherein and what taxation?-My lord cardinal, You that are blam'd for it alike with us, Know you of this taxation? Wol. Please you, sir, I know but of a single part, in aught Pertains to the state; and front but in that file Where others tell steps with me. Q. Kath. No, my lord, You know no more than others: but you frame Things, that are known alike; which are not whole some To those which would not know them, and yet must K. Hen. Still exaction! The nature of it? In what kind, let's know, Q. Kath. I am much too venturous In tempting of your patience; but am bolden'd Under your promis'd pardon. The subject's grief Comes through commissions, which compel from each The sixth part of his substance, to be levy'd Without delay; and the pretence for this Is nam'd, your wars in France: This makes bold mouths: 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, To each incensed will. I would, your highness There is no primer business. K. Hen. This is against our pleasure. Wol. By my life, And for me, I have no further gone in this, than by A single voice; and that not pass'd me, but 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, That is new trimm'd; but benefit no further In fear our motion will be mock'd or carp'd at, And with a care, exempt themselves from fear; 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 mons Hardly conceive of me; let it be nois'd, That, through our intercession, this revokement [Exit Secretary. |