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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. For further life in this world I ne'er hope, Nor will I sue, although the king have mercies More than I dare make faults. You few that lov'd
me, And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham, His noble friends, and fellows, whom to leave Is only bitter to him, only dying, Go with me, like good angels, to my end; And, as the long divorce of steel falls on me, Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice, And lift my soul to heaven.-Lead on, o'God's
Lov. I do beseech your grace, for charity, If ever any malice in
heart Were hid against me, now to forgive me frankly.
Buck. Sir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive you, As I would be forgiven: I forgive all; There cannot be those numberless offences 'Gainst me, I can't take peace with: no black envy Shall make my grave.—Commend me to his grace; And, if he speak of Buckingham, pray, tell him, You met him half in heaven: my vows and prayers Yet are the king's; and, till my soul forsake me, Shall
cry for blessings on him: May he live Longer than I have time to tell his years! Ever belov'd, and loving, may his rule be!
And, when old time shall lead him to his end,
Lov. To the water side I must conduct your grace;
Prepare there, The duke is coming: see, the barge be ready; And fit it with such furniture, as suits The greatness of his person. Buck.
Nay, sir Nicholas, Let it alone; my state now will but muck me. When I came hither, I was lord high constable, And duke of Buckingham; now, poor Edward
Bohun: Yet I am richer than my base accusers, That never knew what truth meant: I now seal it; And with that blood will make them one day groan
• for't. My noble father, Henry of Buckingham, Who first rais'd head against usurping Richard, Flying for succour to his servant Banister, Being distress’d, was by that wretch betray'd, And without trial fell; God's peace be with him! Henry the seventh succeeding, truly pitying My father's loss, like a most royal prince, Restor’d me to my honour's, and, out of ruins, Made my name once more noble. .
Now his son, Henry the eighth, life, honour, name, and all That made me happy, at one stroke has taken For ever from the world. I had
I had my trial, And, must needs say, a noble one; which makes me A little happier than my wretched father:
Yet thus far we are one in fortunes,—Both
me! [Exeunt Buckingham and Train.
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
Let me have it;
I am confident;
You shall, sir: Did you not of late days hear
Yes, but it held not;
But that slander, sir,
'Tis the cardinal;
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.
AN ANTECHAM BER 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 cardinals, 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 stopp'd our mouths, sir. I fear, he will, indeed: Well, let him have them; He will have all, I think.
Enter the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk.
Well met, my good
Good day to both your graces.
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.