Heaven has an end in all: Yet you, that hear me, Where you are liberal of your loves, and counsels, Like water from ye, never found again, But where they mean to sink ye. All good people, Pray for me! I must now forsake ye; the last hour Of my long weary life is come upon me. Farewell: And when you would say something that is sad, Speak how I fell.—I have done; and God forgive me! [Exeunt BUCKINGHAM and train. 1 Gent. O, this is full of pity !-Sir, it calls, I fear, too many curses on their heads, 2 Gent. If the duke be guiltless, 'Tis full of woe: yet I can give you inkling Of an ensuing evil, if it fall, Greater than this. 1 Gent. Good angels keep it from us! Where may it be? You do not doubt my faith, sir? 2 Gent. This secret is so weighty, 'twill require A strong faith to conceal it. 1 Gent. Let me have it; I do not talk much. 2 Gent. I am confident; You shall, sir: Did you not of late days hear Between the king and Katharine? 1 Gent. Yes, but it held not; For when the king once heard it, out of anger 2 Gent. But that slander, sir, Is found a truth now; for it grows again 1 Gent. 'Tis the cardinal; And merely to revenge him on the emperor, The archbishoprick of Toledo, this is purpos'd. 2 Gent. I think, you have hit the mark: But is't not cruel, That she should feel the smart of this? The cardinal Will have his will, and she must fall. 1 Gent. "Tis woful. We are too open here to argue this; Let's think in private more. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-An Ante-chamber in the Palace. Enter the Lord Chamberlain, reading a letter. Cham. My lord,-The horses your lordship sent for, with all the care I had, I saw well chosen, ridden, and furnished. They were young, and handsome; and of the best breed in the north. When they were ready to set out for London, a man of my lord cardinal's, by commission, and main power, took 'em from me; with this reason,- His master would be served before a subject, if not before the king: which stopped our mouths, sir. I fear, he will, indeed: Well, let him have them: Enter the Dukes of NORFOLK and SUFFOLK. Nor. Well met, my good Lord Chamberlain. Cham. Good day to both your graces. Suf. How is the king employ'd? Cham. I left him private, Full of sad thoughts and troubles. Nor. What's the cause? Cham. It seems, the marriage with his brother's wife Has crept too near his conscience. Suf. No, his conscience Has crept too near another lady. Nor. 'Tis so; This is the cardinal's doing, the king-cardinal: That blind priest, like the eldest son of fortune, Turns what he lists. The king will know him one day. Suf. Pray God, he do! he'll never know himself else. Nor. How holily he works in all his business! And with what zeal! For, now he has crack'd the league Between us and the emperor, the queen's great nephew, He dives into the king's soul; and there scatters Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience, Fears, and despairs, and all these for his marriage: These news are every where; every tongue speaks them, The French king's sister. Heaven will one day open Suf. And free us from his slavery. And heartily, for our deliverance; Lie in one lump before him, to be fashion'd Suf. For me, my lords, I love him not, nor fear him; there's my creed: If the king please; his curses and his blessings I knew him, and I know him; so I leave him Nor. Let's in; And, with some other business, put the king From these sad thoughts, that work too much upon him. My lord, you'll bear us company? Cham. Excuse me; The king hath sent me other-where: besides, Health to your lordships. Nor. Thanks, my good lord chamberlain. [Exit Lord Chamberlain. NORFOLK opens a folding-door. The King is discovered sitting, and reading pensively. Suf. How sad he looks! sure, he is much afflicted. K. Hen. Who is there? ha? Nor. 'Pray God, he be not angry. K. Hen. Who's there, I say? How dare you thrust yourselves Into my private meditations? Who am I? ha? Nor. A gracious king, that pardons all offences, Malice ne'er meant: our breach of duty, this way, Is business of estate; in which we come To know your royal pleasure. K. Hen. You are too bold; Go to; I'll make ye know your times of business: Enter WOLSEY and CAMPEIUS. Who's there? my good lord cardinal?-O my Wolsey, The quiet of my wounded conscience, |