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Buck. Pray give me favour, sir. This cunning cardinal
The articles o' the combination drew
As himself pleas'd; and they were ratified 170
As he cried Thus let be,' to as much end
As give a crutch to the dead. But our count-
Has done this, and 'tis well; for worthy Wolsey,
Who cannot err, he did it. Now this follows,
Which, as I take it, is a kind of puppy
To the old dam, treason, Charles the emperor,
Under pretence to see the queen his aunt,
For 'twas indeed his colour, but he came
To whisper Wolsey, here makes visitation:
His fears were, that the interview betwixt
England and France might, through their amity,
Breed him some prejudice; for from this league
Peep'd harms that menac'd him. He privily
Deals with our cardinal, and, as I trow,
Which I do well; for I am sure the emperor
Paid ere he promis'd; whereby his suit was
He bores me with some trick: he's gone to the Ere it was ask'd; but when the way was made. king;
I'll follow and outstare him.
Nor. Stay, my lord, And let your reason with your choler question What 'tis you go about. To climb steep hills Requires slow pace at first: anger is like A full-hot horse, who being allow'd his way, Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England Can advise me like you: be to yourself As you would to your friend. Buck. I'll to the king; And from a mouth of honour quite cry down This Ipswich fellow's insolence, or proclaim There's difference in no persons.
Be advis'd; Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot That it do singe yourself. We may outrun By violent swiftness that which we run at, And lose by overrunning. Know you not, The fire that mounts the liquor till 't run o'er, In seeming to augment it wastes it? Be advis'd: I say again, there is no English soul More stronger to direct you than yourself, If with the sap of reason you would quench, Or but allay, the fire of passion.
And pav'd with gold, the emperor thus desir'd:
That he would please to alter the king's course,
And break the foresaid peace. Let theking know,
As soon he shall by me, that thus the cardinal
Does buy and sell his honour as he pleases, 192
And for his own advantage.
I am sorry
To see you ta'en from liberty, to look on
The business present. 'Tis his highness' pleasure
You shall to the Tower.
It will help me nothing
To plead mine innocence, for that dye is on me
Which makes my whitest part black. The will
Be done in this and all things! I obey.
O! my Lord Abergavenny, fare you well.
Bran. Nay, he must bear you company. To
ABERGAVENNY. The king
Is pleas'd you shall to the Tower, till you know
How he determines further.
As the duke said, The will of heaven be done, and the king's pleasure By me obey'd! Bran.
The king to attach Lord Montacute; and the | The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers, who, bodies
SCENE II.-The Council-chamber.
Cornets. Enter the KING leaning on the CARDINAL'S shoulder, the Lords of the Council, Sir THOMAS LOVELL, Officers, and Attendants. The CARDINAL places himself under the KING'S feet on the right side.
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; And point by point the treasons of his master He shall again relate.
A noise within, crying Room for the Queen!' Enter Queen KATHARINE, ushered by the Dukes
of NORFOLK and SUFFOLK: she kneels.
KING riseth from his state, takes her up, kisses
Sent down among 'em, 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
The sides of loyalty, and almost appears
In loud rebellion.
Not almost appears,
It doth appear; for upon these taxations,
The clothiers all, not able to maintain
The many to them 'longing, have put off
Unfit for other life, compell'd by hunger
And lack of other means, in desperate manner
Daring the event to the teeth, are all in uproar,
And danger serves among them.
Taxation! Wherein ? and what taxation? My lord cardinal, You that are blam'd for it alike with us, Know you of this taxation?
Please you, sir, 49 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.
No, my lord,
You know no more than others; but you frame
Things that are known alike; which are not
To those which would not know them, and yet
Perforce be their acquaintance. These exactions,
Most pestilent to the hearing; and to bear 'em,
Whereof my sovereign would have note, they are
The back is sacrifice to the load. They say
They are devis'd by you, or else you suffer
Too hard an exclamation.
Still exaction! The nature of it? In what kind, let's know, Is this exaction?
I am much too venturous In tempting of your patience; but am bolden'd Under your promis'd pardon. The subjects' 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.
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
This tractable obedience is a slave
To each incensed will. I would your highness
Would give it quick consideration, for
There is no primer business.
This is against our pleasure. Wol .
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 ignorant 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,
Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up
For our best act. If we shall stand still,
In fear our motion will be mock'd or carp'd at,
We should take root here where we sit, or sit
He was brought to this
By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Hopkins.
K. Hen. What was that Hopkins?
Sir, a Chartreux friar,
His confessor, who fed him every minute
With words of sovereignty.
How know'st thou this!
Surv. Not long before your highness sped to
The duke being at the Rose, within the parish
Saint Lawrence Poultney, did of me demand
What was the speech among 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 Car, 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
Q. Kath. I am sorry that the Duke of Buck- To me should utter, with demure confidence This pausingly ensu'd: Neither the king nor's heirs,
Is run in your displeasure.
Tell you the duke, shall prosper: bid him strive
To gain the love o' the commonalty: the duke
Shall govern England.'
And with a care, exempt themselves from fear;
Things done without example, in their issue 90
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. To the Secretary. A word with you.
Let there be letters writ to every shire,
Of the king's grace and pardon. The griev'd
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.
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 complete,
Who was enroll'd 'mongst wonders, and when we,
Almost with ravish'd listening, 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.
Wol. Stand forth; and with bold spirit relate
Most like a careful subject, have collected
Out of the Duke of Buckingham.
Surv. First, it was usual with him, every day
It would infect his speech, that if the king
Should without issue die, he'll carry it so
To make the sceptre his. These very words
I've heard him utter to his son-in-law,
Lord Abergavenny, to whom by oath he menac'd
Revenge upon the cardinal.
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.
My learn'd lord cardinal,
Deliver all with charity.
How grounded he his title to the crown
Upon our fail? to this point hast thou heard him Have put his knife into him.'
At any time speak aught?
If I know you well, 172 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.
Let him on.
Surv. 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
dangerous 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.
Ha! what, so rank? Ah ha!
There's mischief in this man. Canst thou say
Surv. I can, my liege.
Being at Greenwich,
After your highness had reprov'd the duke
About Sir William Blomer,-
Of such a time being my sworn servant,
The duke retain'd him his. But on; what hence?
Surv. If,' quoth he, 'I for this had been com.
As, to the Tower, I thought, I would have play'd
The part my father meant to act upon
The usurper Richard; who, being at Salisbury,
Made suit to come in's presence; which if granted,
As he made semblance of his duty, would
Though they be never so ridiculous,
Nay, let 'em be unmanly, yet are follow'd.
Cham. As far as I 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 'em, 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 'em pace before, the spavin
Or springhalt reign'd among 'em.
Cham. Death! my lord, Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too, That, sure, they 've worn out Christendom.
Your lordship is a guest too. 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 churchman bears a bounteous mind indeed,
A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us;
His dews fall every where.
No doubt he's noble ; He had a black mouth that said other of him. Sands. He may, my lord; 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 lordshipshall 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.
I am your lordship's. Exeunt.
SCENE IV. The Presence-chamber in York-Place.
Hautboys. A small table under a state for Cardinal
WOLSEY, a longer table for the guests; then
enter ANNE BULLEN and divers Lords, Ladies,
and Gentlewomen as guests, at one door; 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.
Enter the Lord Chamberlain, Lord SANDS, and
Sir THOMAS LOVELL.
O, my lord you're tardy: 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 10
But half my lay thoughts in him, some of these | And to what end, is this? Nay, ladies, fear not;
Should find a running banquet ere they rested, By all the laws of war you 're privileg'd.
I think would better please 'em by my life,
They are a sweet society of fair ones.
Lov. O that your lordship were but now
To one or two of these.
I would I were ;
They should find easy penance.
Faith, how easy?
Sands. As easy as a down-bed would afford it.
Cham. Sweet ladies, will it please you sit? Sir
Place you that side, I'll take the charge of
His grace is entering. Nay, you must not freeze;
Two women plac'd together makes cold weather:
My Lord Sands, you are one will keep'em waking;
Pray, sit between these ladies.
By my faith, And thank your lordship. By your leave, sweet ladies:
Seats himself between ANNE BULLEN and
If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me;
I had it from my father.
Was he mad, sir?
Sands. O very mad, exceeding mad; in love
But he would bite none; just as I do now,
He would kiss you twenty with a breath.
Cham. How now! what is 't?
A noble troop of strangers;
For so they seem they 've left their barge and
And hither make, as great ambassadors
From foreign princes.
The red wine first must rise In their fair cheeks, my lord; then we shall have 'em
Talk us to silence.
Good lord chamberlain, Go, give 'em welcome; you can speak the French
Well said, my lord.
So, now you're fairly seated. Gentlemen,
The penance lies on you if these fair ladies
Pass away frowning.
For my little cure,
Hautboys. Enter Cardinal WOLSEY, attended, and An hour of revels with 'em.
takes his state.
And, pray, receive 'em nobly, and conduct 'em
Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty
Shall shine at full upon them. Some attend him.
Exit the Lord Chamberlain, attended. All rise, and tables removed. You have now a broken banquet; but we'll mend it.
A good digestion to you all; and once more
I shower a welcome on ye; welcome all.
Hautboys. Enter the KING and Others as masquers,
habited like shepherds, ushered by the Lord Cham
berlain. 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
Crave leave to view these ladies, and entreat
Say, lord chamberlain,
They have done my poor house grace; for which
I pay 'em
A thousand thanks, and pray 'em take their
They choose Ladies for the dance. The
KING chooses ANNE BULLEN.
K. Hen. The fairest hand I ever touch'd! 0
Till now I never knew thee.
Wol. My lord!
Wol. Pray, tell 'em thus much from me:
There should be one amongst 'em, 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.
I will, my lord.
Whispers the masquers.
You are a merry gamester,
My Lord Sands.
Yes, if I make my play.
Here's to your ladyship; and pledge it, madam,
For 'tis to such a thing,-
You cannot show me.
Sands. I told your grace they would talk anon.
Drum and trumpets within; chambers
Cham. Look out there, some of ye.
What war-like voice, 50 You hold a fair assembly; you do well, lord:
Let me see then.
Comes from his state.
By all your good leaves, gentlemen, here I'll make
My royal choice.
K. Hen. Unmasking. Ye have found him,
Exit a Servant.
Wol. What say they?
Such a one, they all confess,
There is indeed; which they would have your
Find out, and he will take it.