1 Gent. O! this is full of pity. — Sir, it calls, I fear, too many curses on their heads

That were the authors.

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!

What 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.

I do not talk much.

2 Gent.

You shall, sir.

Let me have it:

I am confident:

Did you not of late days hear

A buzzing of a separation
Between the king and Katharine ?

1 Gent.
Yes, but it held not
For, when the king once heard it, out of anger
He sent command to the lord mayor straight
To stop the rumour, and allay those tongues
That durst disperse it.

2 Gent.

But that slander, sir,

Is found a truth now; for it grows again
Fresher than e'er it was, and held for certain
The king will venture at it. Either the cardinal,
Or some about him near, have out of malice
To the good queen possess'd him with a scruple
That will undo her: To confirm this, too,
Cardinal Campeius is arriv'd, and lately;
As all think, for this business.

of Buckingham; now I am but Edward Bohune, the most caitife of the world.' Thus they landed at the Temple, and led him through the citie, who desired ever the people to pray for him, of whom some wept and lamented."

• Great fidelity.

H

1 Gent.

"Tis the cardinal:

And merely to revenge him on the emperor,
For not bestowing on him, at his asking,
The archbishopric 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.

We are too open here to argue this;
Let's think in private more.

"Tis woful.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. An Antechamber 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 furnish'd. 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 serv'd before a subject, if not before the king; which stopp'd our mouths, sir.

I fear, he will indeed.

He will have all, I think.

Well, let him have them :

Enter the Dukes of NORFOLK and SUFFOLK.'
Nor. Well met, my good lord chamberlain.

1 Charles Brandon, the present duke of Suffolk, was son of Sir William Brandon, slain by Richard at the battle of Bosworth. He was created duke of Suffolk in February, 1514, and in March, 1515, was married to Mary, youngest sister of the king, and widow of Louis the Twelfth of France. He had been her lover before her first marriage; and when the king would have contracted her a second time to a foreign prince, she told him plainly that she

Cham. Good day to both your graces.
Suf. How is the king employ'd?

Cham.

Full of sad thoughts and troubles.

Nor.

I left him private,

What's the cause?

Cham. It seems, the marriage with his brother's

wife

Has crept too near his conscience.

Suf.

Has crept too near another lady.

No; his conscience

Nor. "Tis so. This is the cardinal's doing, the king-cardinal: That blind priest, like the eldest son of fortune, Turns what he list. 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;
And, out of all these to restore the king,
He counsels a divorce; a loss of her,
That like a jewel has hung twenty years
About his neck, yet never lost her lustre;
Of her, that loves him with that excellence
That angels love good men with; even of her

had married once to please him, and would do it now to please herself, or else take religious vows in a convent. Suffolk was reckoned among the most able and accomplished noblemen of his time, both in the cabinet and the field.

H

That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls, Will bless the king. And is not this course pious? Cham. Heaven keep me from such counsel! "Tis

most true,

These news are every where; every tongue speaks 'em,

And every true heart weeps for't. All that dare Look into these affairs see this main end,

2

The French king's sister. Heaven will one day

open

The king's eyes, that so long have slept upon
This bold bad man.

Suf.

And free us from his slavery

Nor. We had need pray,

And heartily, for our deliverance;

Or this imperious man will work us all
From princes into pages: all men's honours
Lie like one lump before him, to be fashion'd
Into what pitch he please.

For me, my lords,

Suf.
I love him not, nor fear him; there's my creed.
As I am made without him, so I'll stand,

If the king please: his curses and his blessings
Touch me alike; they're breath I not believe in.
I knew him, and I know him; so I leave him
To him that made him proud, the pope.

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 ;

It was the main end or object of Wolsey to bring about a marriage between Henry and the French king's sister, the duchess of Alençon.

The king hath sent me other-where

besides,

You'll find a most unfit time to disturb him.

covered sitting, and reading pensively.3

Suf. How sad he looks! sure, he is much afflicted. King. Who is there? ha!

Nor.

'Pray God, he be not angry.

King. 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.

King.

You are too bold:

Go to; I'll make ye know your times of business • Is this an hour for temporal affairs? ha!—

Enter WOLSEY and CAMPEIUS.

Who's there? my good lord cardinal?—O! my Wolsey,

The quiet of my wounded conscience;

3 The stage direction in the old copy is singular — "Exit Lord Chamberlain, and the King draws the curtain and sits reading pensively." This was calculated for the state of the theatre in Shakespeare's time. When a person was to be discovered in a different apartment from that in which the original speakers in the scene are exhibited, the artless mode of that time was, to place such person in the back part of the stage, behind the curtains which were occasionally suspended across it. These the person who was to be discovered drew back just at the proper time.