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, 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 hear him his confessions justify;

To those which would not know them, and yet must
Perforce be their acquaintance. These exactions
Whereof my sovereign would have note, they are
Most pestilent to the hearing; and, to bear them,
The back is sacrifice to the load. They say,
They are devis'd by you; or else you suffer
Too hard an exclamation.

K. Hen.

Still exaction! The nature of it? In what kind, let's know, Is this exaction?

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 levied 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 Live where their prayers did; and it's come to pass, Allegiance in them; their curses now,

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.

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
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 q

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-

mons

Hardly conceive of me; let it be nois'd,
That, through our intercession, this revokement
And pardon comes: I shall anon advise you
Further in the proceeding. [Exit Secretary.

Enter Surveyor.

Q. Kath. I am sorry, that the duke of Buckingham Is run in your displeasure.

K. Hen.

It grieves many :
The gentleman is learn'd, and a most rare speaker,
To nature none more bound; his training such,
That he may furnish and instruct great teachers,
And never seek for aid out of himself.
Yet see

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.

Wel. Stand forth; and with bold spirit relate what you,

Most like a careful subject, have collected
Out of the duke of Buckingham.

K. Hen.

Speak freely.

Surv. First, it was usual with him, every day It would infect his speech, That if the king Should without issue die, he'd carry it so To make the scepter his : These very words I have heard him utter to his son-in-law, Lord Aberga'ny; to whom by oath he menac'd Revenge upon the cardinal.

Wol.

Please your highness, note This dangerous conception in this point. Not friended by his wish, to your high person His will is most malignant; and it stretches Beyond you, to your friends.

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.

Q. Kath.

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.

K. Hen. Go forward.

Surv.

Let him on:

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 Lovell's heads
Should have gone off.
K. Hen.

Ha! what so rank? Ah, ha!
There's mischief in this man :
Canst thou say
further?

Though they be never so ridiculous,
Nay, let them be unmanly, yet are follow'd.

Cham. As far as 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.

How

now?

What news, sir Thomas Lovell?

Ay, marry,

Lov. There will be woe indeed, lords; the sly whore

sons

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

song,

And have an hour of hearing; and, by'r lady, Held current musick too.

Cham.

Well said, lord Sands;
Your colt's tooth is not cast yet.
Sands.

Nor shall not, while 1 have a stump.
Cham.

Whither were you a going?

Lov.

Your lordship is a guest too.

No, my lord;

Sir Thomas,

To the cardinal's

;

O, 'tis true:

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 churchian 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,

Sparing would show a worse sin than ill doctrine:
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 sir Thomas,
We shall be late else: which I would not be,
For I was spoke to, with sir Henry Guildford,
This night to be comptrollers.

Lov. The reformation of our travell'd gallants, That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors. Cham. I am glad, 'tis there; now I would pray our monsieurs

To think an English courtier may be wise,
And never see the Louvre.

Lov.
They must either
(For so run the conditions,) leave these remnants
Of fool, and feather, that they got in France,
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,
Short blister'd breaches, and those types of travel,

Sands.

I am your lordship's. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV.. -The Presence-Chamber in York

Place.

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 Gentlewomer. 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 ;

Enter Lord Chamberlain, LORD SANDS, and Sir
THOMAS LOVELL.

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

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

Lov. O, that your lordship were but now confessor 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? Sir Harry,

Hautboys. Enter the KING, and twelve others, as maskers, habited like shepherds, with sixteen torchbearers ; ushered 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, under your fair conduct,
Crave leave to view these ladies, and entreat
An hour of revels with them.

Wol.

Say, lord chamberlain, They have done my poor house grace; for which I pay them

A thousand thanks, and pray them take their pleasures. [Ladies chosen for the dance. The KING chooses ANNE BULLEN.

K. Hen. The fairest hand I ever touch'd! O, beauty, Till now I never knew thee.

Wol. My lord,

Cham.

[Musick. Dance.

Your grace?

Wol. Pray, tell them thus much from me:

There should be one amongst them, by his person,
More worthy this place than myself; to whom,
If I but knew him, with my love and duty

I would surrender it.

[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.

Let me see then. —[Comes from his state. By all your good leaves, gentlemen;-Here I'll make My royal choice.

K. Hen.

You have found him, cardinal: [Unmasking.

You hold a fair assembly; you do well, tord:

That labour, sir. All's now done, but the ceremony
Of bringing back the prisoner.

2 Gent. Were you there?
1 Gent. Yes, indeed, was I.
2 Gent.

2 Gent.

Pray, speak, what has happen'd? 1 Gent. You may guess quickly what. 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. 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,

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.

The cardinal is the end of this.

1 Gent.

Certainly,

'Tis likely,

By all conjectures: First, Kildare's attainder,
Then deputy of Ireland; who remov'd,
Earl Surrey was sent thither, and in haste too,
Lest he should help his father.

2 Gent.

Was a deep envious one.

That trick of state

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, And far enough from court too. 2 Gent.

All the commons

The mirror of all courtesy ;

1 Gent. Stay there, sir, And see the noble ruin'd man you speak of.

Enter BUCKINGHAM from his arraignment; Tipstaves before him; the axe with the edge towards him; halberds on each side; with him, Sir THOMAS LOVELL, Sir NICHOLAS VAUX, Sir WILLIAM SANDS, and common people.

2 Gent. Let's stand close, and behold him. Buck. All good people, You that thus far have come to pity me, Hear what I and then home and lose me. say, go I have this day receiv'd a traitor's judgment, And by that name must die; Yet, heaven bear witness, And, if I have a conscience, let it sink me, Even as the axe falls, if I be not faithful! The law I bear no malice for my death,

It has done, upon the premises, but justice:
But those, that sought it, I could wish more chris-
tians:

Be what they will, I heartily forgive them:
Yet let them look they glory not in mischief,
Nor build their evils on the graves of great men ;
For then my guiltless blood must cry against them.