More stronger to direct you than yourself;
If with the sap of reason you would quench,
Or but allay, the fire of passion.
Buck.

Sir,

I am thankful to you: and I'll go alon

By your prescription:-but this top-proud fellow,
(Whom from the flow of gall I name not, but
From sincere motions,) by intelligence,
And proofs as clear as founts in July, when
We see each grain of gravel, I do know
To be corrupt and treasonous.
Nor.
Say not, treasonous.
Buck. To the king I'll say't; and make my vouch
as strong

As shore of rock. Attend. This holy fox,
Or wolf, or both, (for he is equal ravenous,
As he is subtle; and as prone to mischief,
As able to perform it: his mind and place
Infecting one another, yea, reciprocally,)
Only to show his pomp as well in France
As here at home, suggests the king our master
To this last costly treaty, the interview,
That swallow'd so much treasure, and, like a glass,
Did break i' the rinsing.
'Faith, and so it did.

Nor.

Buck. Pray, give me favor, sir.. This cunning cardinal

The articles of the combination drew,
As himself pleas'd; and they were ratified,
As he cried, Thus let be: to as much end,

As give a crutch to the dead: But our count-cardinal

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 color; 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 arms that menaced 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 granted,
Ere it was ask'd;-but when the way was made,
And pav'd with gold, the emperor thus desir'd;-
That he would please to alter the king's course
And break the aforesaid peace. Let the king know,
(As soon he shall by me,) that thus the cardinal
Does buy and sell his honor as he pleases,
And for his own advantage.

Nor.

I am sorry

To hear this of him; and could wish, he were Something mistaken in't.

Buck.

No, not a syllable;

I do pronounce him in that very shape, He shall appear in proof.

These are the limbs of the plot: no more, I hope. Bran. A monk o' the Chartreux.

Buck.

Bran.

O, Nicholas Hopkins? He. Buck. My surveyor is false; the o'er-great cardinal

Hath show'd him gold: my life is spann'd already;
I am the shadow of poor Buckingham;
Whose figure even this instant cloud puts on,
By dark'ning my clear sun. My lord, farewell..
[Exeunt

SCENE II.-The Council-chamber.
Cornets. Enter KING HENRY, CARDINAL WOL-
SEY, 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-charged 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.

The KING takes his State. The Lords of the Council take their several Places. The CARDINAL places himself under the King's Feet, on his right Side. A Noise within, crying, Room for the Queen. Enter the QUEEN, usher'd by the DUKES OF NORFOLK and SUFFOLK: she kneels. The KING riseth from his State, takes her up, kisses, and placeth her by him.

Q. Kath. Nay, we must longer kneel; I am a suitor.

K. Hen. Arise, and take place by us: Half your suit

Never name to us; you have half our power;
The other moiety, ere you ask, is given;
Repeat your will, and take it.
Q. Kath.
Thank your majesty.
That you would love yourself; and, in that love,
The dignity of your office, is the point
Not unconsider'd leave your honor, nor
Of my petition.

K. Hen.

Lady mine, proceed.

Q. Kath. I am solicited, not by a few, And those of true condition, that your subjects Are in great grievance: there hath been commis

sions

and two or three of the Guard.

Bran. Your office, sergeant; execute it.
Serg.

My lord the duke of Buckingham, and earl
Of Hereford, Stafford, and Northampton, I
Arrest thee of high treason, in the name
Of our most sovereign king.
Buck.

Sir,

Lo you, my lord, The net has fallen upon me; I shall perish Under device and practice.6

Bran.

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.

Buck.
It will help me nothing,
To plead mine innocence; for that dye is on me,
Which makes my whitest part black. The will of
heaven

Be done in this and all things!-I obey.O my lord Aberga'ny, fare you well. Bran. Nay, he must bear you company:-The king [To ABERGAVENNY. Is pleas'd, you shall to the Tower, till you know How he determines further.

Of these exactions, yet the king our master (Whose honor Heaven shield from soil!) even he

escapes not

Language unmannerly, yea, such which breaks
The sides of loyalty, and almost appears,

In loud rebellion.
Nor.
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
The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers, who,
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.
K. Hen.
Taxation!
Wherein? and what taxation ?-My lord cardinal,
You that are blamed for it alike with us,
Know you of this taxation?
Wol.

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 named, your wars in France: This makes bold mouths:

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 pass, That tractable obedience is a slave

To each incensed will. I would, your highness Would give it quick consideration, for

There is no primers business.

K. Hen.

This is against our pleasure.

Wol.

By my life,

And for me,

I have no farther gone in this, than by

A single voice; and that not pass'd me, but

By learned approbation of the judges.

If I am traduced 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 brake9
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 ;3 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
State statues only.

K. Hen.

Things done well,

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-

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 honor 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
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 sceptre his: These very words
I have heard him utter to his son-in-law,
Lord Aberga'ny; to whom by oath he menaced
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.

Q. Kath.

Deliver all with charity.

K. Hen.

My learn'd lord cardinal,

Speak on:

How grounded he his title to the crown,

Upon our fail? to this point hast thou heard him At any time speak aught?

Surv.

He was brought to this

By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Hopkins. K. Hen. What was that Hopkins?

Surv.

Sir, a Chartreux friar, His confessor, who fed him every minute With words of sovereignty.

K. Hen.
How know'st thou this?
Surv. Not long before your highness sped to France,
The duke being at the Rose,4 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, à 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

K. Hen.

Go forward.

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 forged 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?

Proceed.

Surv. I can, my liege. K. Hen. Surv. Being at Greenwich, After your highness had reprov'd the duke About sir William Blomer,

K. Hen. I remember, Of such a time :-being my servant sworn, The duke retain'd him his.-But on; What hence? Now Merchant Taylors' School.

New customs,

Though they be never so ridiculous,
Nay, let them be unmanly, yet are follow'd.
Cham. As far as 1 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
Stands. 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?

They must either

(For so run the conditions) leave these remnants of fool, and feather, that they got in France, With all their honorable 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 breeches, and those types of travel,
And understand again like honest men;

Or pack to their old playfellows: there, I take it,
They may, cum privilegio, wear away
The lag end of their lewdness, and be laugh'd at.
Sunds. 'Tis time to give them physic, their dis-

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

Whither were you a going?
Lov.

Your lordship is a guest too.
Cham.

To the cardinal's,

O, 'tis true:
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 everywhere.
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.
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 Gentlewomen, 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,9 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-0, 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,

Place you that side, I'll take the charge of this:
His grace is ent'ring.-Nay, you must not freeze;
Two women placed together makes cold weather:-
My lord Sands, you are one will keep them waking;
Pray, sit between these ladies.
Sands.
By my faith,
And thank your lordship.-By your leave, sweet
ladies;

[Seats himself between ANNE BULLEN and another Lady.

If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me;
I had it from my father.

Anne.

Was he mad, sir? • Company.

And so his peers, upon this evidence,

Have found him guilty of high treason. Much
He spoke, and learnedly, for life: but all
Was either pitied in him, or forgotten.

2 Gent. After all this, how did he bear himself? 1 Gent. When he was brought again to the bar,to hear

His knell rung out, his judgment,-he was stirr'd With such an agony, he sweat extremely, And something spoke in choler, ill and hasty: But he fell to himself again, and, sweetly, In all the rest show'd a most noble patience. 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.

No doubt, he will requite it. This is noted,
And generally; whoever the king favors,
The cardinal instantly will find employment,
And far enough from court too.

2 Gent. All the commons Hate him perniciously, and o' my conscience, Wish him ten fathom deep: this duke as much They love, and dote on; call him, bounteous Buckingham,

The mirror of all courtesy ;

Stay there, sir,

1 Gent. And see the noble ruin'd man you speak of. Enter BUCKINGHAM from his Arraignment; Tipstaves before him, the Axe with the Edge fowards 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 say, and then go home and lose me. I have this day receiv'd a traitor's judgment, And by that name must die; yet, heaven bear wit

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

name.

Lov. I do beseech your grace, for charity, If ever any malice in your 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,
Goodness and he fill up one monument!

Lov. To the water side I must conduct your grace; Then give my charge up to sir Nicholas Vaux, Who undertakes you to your end.

Vaux.

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 mock 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 succor 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 honors, and, out of ruins,
Made my name once more noble. Now his son,
Henry the Eighth, life, honor, name, and all
That made me happy, at one stroke has taken
For ever from the world. 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
Fell by our servants, by those men we lov'd most;
A most unnatural and faithless service!
Heaven has an end in all: Yet, you that hear me,
This from a dying man receive as certain;
Where you are liberal of your loves, and counsels,
Be sure, you be not loose; for those you make friends,
And give your hearts to, when they once perceive
The least rub in your fortunes, fall away
But where they mean to sink ye. All good people,
Like water from ye, never found again
Pray for me! I must now forsake ye; the last hour
Farewell:
Of my long weary life is come upon me.

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,
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! 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.

I do not talk much.

Let me have it;

2 Gent. I am confident; You shall, sir: 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 rumor, 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.

1 Gent. 'Tis the cardinal; And merely to revenge him on the emperor,