Henry VIII

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Original text
Act I, Scene I
Enter the Duke of Norfolke at one doore. At the other,
the Duke of Buckingham, and the Lord Aburgauenny.

Buckingham.
GOod morrow, and well met. How haue ye done
Since last we saw in France?

Norf.
I thanke your Grace:
Healthfull, and euer since a fresh Admirer
Of what I saw there.

Buck.
An vntimely Ague
Staid me a Prisoner in my Chamber, when
Those Sunnes of Glory, those two Lights of Men
Met in the vale of Andren.

Nor.
'Twixt Guynes and Arde,
I was then present, saw them salute on Horsebacke,
Beheld them when they lighted, how they clung
In their Embracement, as they grew together,
Which had they, / What foure Thron'd ones could haue weigh'd
Such a compounded one?

Buck.
All the whole time
I was my Chambers Prisoner.

Nor.
Then you lost
The view of earthly glory: Men might say
Till this time Pompe was single, but now married
To one aboue it selfe. Each following day
Became the next dayes master, till the last
Made former Wonders, it's. To day the French,
All Clinquant all in Gold, like Heathen Gods
Shone downe the English; and to morrow, they
Made Britaine, India: Euery man that stood,
Shew'd like a Mine. Their Dwarfish Pages were
As Cherubins, all gilt: the Madams too,
Not vs'd to toyle, did almost sweat to beare
The Pride vpon them, that their very labour
Was to them, as a Painting. Now this Maske
Was cry'de incompareable; and th'ensuing night
Made it a Foole, and Begger. The two Kings
Equall in lustre, were now best, now worst
As presence did present them: Him in eye,
Still him in praise, and being present both,
'Twas said they saw but one, and no Discerner
Durst wagge his Tongue in censure, when these Sunnes
(For so they phrase 'em) by their Heralds challeng'd
The Noble Spirits to Armes, they did performe
Beyond thoughts Compasse, that former fabulous Storie
Being now seene, possible enough, got credit
That Beuis was beleeu'd.

Buc.
Oh you go farre.

Nor.
As I belong to worship, and affect
In Honor, Honesty, the tract of eu'ry thing,
Would by a good Discourser loose some life,
Which Actions selfe, was tongue too. Buc. All wasRoyall,
To the disposing of it nought rebell'd,
Order gaue each thing view. The Office did
Distinctly his full Function:
who did guide,
I meane who set the Body, and the Limbes
Of this great Sport together? Nor. As you guesse:
One certes, that promises no Element
In such a businesse.

Buc.
I pray you who, my Lord?

Nor.
All this was ordred by the good Discretion
Of the right Reuerend Cardinall of Yorke.

Buc.
The diuell speed him: No mans Pye is freed
From his Ambitious finger. What had he
To do in these fierce Vanities? I wonder,
That such a Keech can with his very bulke
Take vp the Rayes o'th'beneficiall Sun,
And keepe it from the Earth.

Nor.
Surely Sir,
There's in him stuffe, that put's him to these ends:
For being not propt by Auncestry, whose grace
Chalkes Successors their way; nor call'd vpon
For high feats done to'th'Crowne; neither Allied
To eminent Assistants; but Spider-like
Out of his Selfe-drawing Web. O giues vs note,
The force of his owne merit makes his way
A guift that heauen giues for him, which buyes
A place next to the King.

Abur.
I cannot tell
What Heauen hath giuen him: let some Grauer eye
Pierce into that, but I can see his Pride
Peepe through each part of him: whence ha's he that,
If not from Hell? The Diuell is a Niggard,
Or ha's giuen all before, and he begins
A new Hell in himselfe.

Buc.
Why the Diuell,
Vpon this French going out, tooke he vpon him
(Without the priuity o'th'King) t'appoint
Who should attend on him? He makes vp the File
Of all the Gentry; for the most part such
To whom as great a Charge, as little Honor
He meant to lay vpon: and his owne Letter
The Honourable Boord of Councell, out
Must fetch him in, he Papers.

Abur.
I do know
Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that haue
By this, so sicken'd their Estates, that neuer
They shall abound as formerly.

Buc.
O many
Haue broke their backes with laying Mannors on 'em
For this great Iourney. What did this vanity
But minister communication of
A most poore issue.

Nor.
Greeuingly I thinke,
The Peace betweene the French and vs, not valewes
The Cost that did conclude it.

Buc.
Euery man,
After the hideous storme that follow'd, was
A thing Inspir'd, and not consulting, broke
Into a generall Prophesie; That this Tempest
Dashing the Garment of this Peace, aboaded
The sodaine breach on't.

Nor.
Which is budded out,
For France hath flaw'd the League, and hath attach'd
Our Merchants goods at Burdeux.

Abur.
Is it therefore
Th'Ambassador is silenc'd?

Nor.
Marry is't.

Abur.
A proper Title of a Peace, and purchas'd
At a superfluous rate.

Buc.
Why all this Businesse
Our Reuerend Cardinall carried.

Nor.
Like it your Grace,
The State takes notice of the priuate difference
Betwixt you, and the Cardinall. I aduise you
(And take it from a heart, that wishes towards you
Honor, and plenteous safety) that you reade
The Cardinals Malice, and his Potency
Together; To consider further, that
What his high Hatred would effect, wants not
A Minister in his Power. You know his Nature,
That he's Reuengefull; and I know, his Sword
Hath a sharpe edge: It's long, and't may be saide
It reaches farre, and where 'twill not extend,
Thither he darts it. Bosome vp my counsell,
You'l finde it wholesome. Loe, where comes that Rock
That I aduice your shunning.
Enter Cardinall Wolsey, the Purse borne before him,
certaine of the Guard, and two Secretaries with Papers:
The Cardinall in his passage, fixeth his eye onBuckham,
and Buckingham on him, both full of disdaine.

Car.
The Duke of Buckinghams Surueyor? Ha?
Where's his Examination?

Secr.
Heere so please you.

Car.
Is he in person, ready?

Secr.
I, please your Grace.

Car.
Well, we shall then know more, & Buckingham
Shall lessen this bigge looke.
Exeunt Cardinall, and his Traine.

Buc.
This Butchers Curre is venom'd-mouth'd, and I
Haue not the power to muzzle him, therefore best
Not wake him in his slumber. A Beggers booke,
Out-worths a Nobles blood.

Nor.
What are you chaff'd?
Aske God for Temp'rance, that's th'appliance onely
Which your disease requires.

Buc.
I read in's looks
Matter against me, and his eye reuil'd
Me as his abiect obiect, at this instant
He bores me with some tricke; He's gone to'th'King:
Ile follow, and out-stare him.

Nor.
Stay my Lord,
And let your Reason with your Choller question
What 'tis you go about: to climbe steepe hilles
Requires slow pace at first. Anger is like
A full hot Horse, who being allow'd his way
Selfe-mettle tyres him: Not a man in England
Can aduise me like you: Be to your selfe,
As you would to your Friend.

Buc.
Ile to the King,
And from a mouth of Honor, quite cry downe
This Ipswich fellowes insolence; or proclaime,
There's difference in no persons.

Norf.
Be aduis'd;
Heat not a Furnace for your foe so hot
That it do sindge your selfe. We may out-runne
By violent swiftnesse that which we run at;
And lose by ouer-running: know you not,
The fire that mounts the liquor til't run ore,
In seeming to augment it, wasts it: be aduis'd;
I say againe there is no English Soule
More stronger to direct you then your selfe;
If with the sap of reason you would quench,
Or but allay the fire of passion.

Buck.
Sir,
I am thankfull to you, and Ile goe along
By your prescription: but this top-proud fellow,
Whom from the flow of gall I name not, but
From sincere motions, by Intelligence,
And proofes as cleere as Founts in Iuly, when
Wee see each graine of grauell; I doe know
To be corrupt and treasonous.

Norf.
Say not treasonous.

Buck.
To th'King Ile say't, & make my vouch as strong
As shore of Rocke: attend. This holy Foxe,
Or Wolfe, or both (for he is equall rau'nous
As he is subtile, and as prone to mischiefe,
As able to perform't) his minde, and place
Infecting one another, yea reciprocally,
Only to shew his pompe, as well in France,
As here at home, suggests the King our Master
To this last costly Treaty: Th'enteruiew,
That swallowed so much treasure, and like a glasse
Did breake ith'wrenching.

Norf.
Faith, and so it did.

Buck.
Pray giue me fauour Sir: This cunning Cardinall
The Articles o'th'Combination drew
As himselfe pleas'd; and they were ratified
As he cride thus let be, to as much end,
As giue a Crutch to th'dead. But our Count-Cardinall
Has done this, and tis well: for worthy Wolsey
(Who cannot erre) he did it. Now this followes,
(Which as I take it, is a kinde of Puppie
To th'old dam Treason) Charles the Emperour,
Vnder pretence to see the Queene his Aunt,
(For twas indeed his colour, but he came
To whisper Wolsey) here makes visitation,
His feares were that the Interview betwixt
England and France, might through their amity
Breed him some preiudice; for from this League,
Peep'd harmes that menac'd him. Priuily
Deales with our Cardinal, and as I troa
Which I doe well; for I am sure the Emperour
Paid ere he promis'd, whereby his Suit was granted
Ere it was ask'd. But when the way was made
And pau'd with gold: the Emperor thus desir'd,
That he would please to alter the Kings course,
And breake the foresaid peace. Let the King know
(As soone he shall by me) that thus the Cardinall
Does buy and sell his Honour as he pleases,
And for his owne aduantage.

Norf.
I am sorry
To heare this of him; and could wish he were
Somthing mistaken in't.

Buck.
No, not a sillable:
I doe pronounce him in that very shape
He shall appeare in proofe.
Enter Brandon, a Sergeant at Armes before him, and
two or three of the Guard.

Brandon.
Your Office Sergeant: execute it.

Sergeant.
Sir,
My Lord the Duke of Buckingham, and Earle
Of Hertford, Stafford and Northampton, I
Arrest thee of High Treason, in the name
Of our most Soueraigne King.

Buck.
Lo you my Lord,
The net has falne vpon me, I shall perish
Vnder deuice, and practise.

Bran.
I am sorry,
To see you tane from liberty, to looke on
The busines present. Tis his Highnes pleasure
You shall to th'Tower.

Buck.
It will helpe me nothing
To plead mine Innocence; for that dye is on me
Which makes my whit'st part, black. The will of Heau'n
Be done in this and all things: I obey.
O my Lord Aburgany: Fare you well.

Bran.
Nay, he must beare you company. The King
Is pleas'd you shall to th'Tower, till you know
How he determines further.

Abur.
As the Duke said,
The will of Heauen be done, and the Kings pleasure
By me obey'd.

Bran.
Here is a warrant from
The King, t'attach Lord Mountacute, and the Bodies
Of the Dukes Confessor, Iohn de la Car,
One Gilbert Pecke, his Councellour.

Buck.
So, so;
These are the limbs o'th'Plot: no more I hope.

Bra.
A Monke o'th'Chartreux.

Buck.
O Michaell Hopkins?

Bra.
He.

Buck.
My Surueyor is falce: The ore-great Cardinall
Hath shew'd him gold; my life is spand already:
I am the shadow of poore Buckingham,
Whose Figure euen this instant Clowd puts on,
By Darkning my cleere Sunne. My Lords farewell.
Exe.
Original text
Act I, Scene II
Cornets. Enter King Henry, leaning on the Cardinals
shoulder, the Nobles, and Sir Thomas Louell: the
Cardinall places himselfe vnder the Kings feete on his
right side.

King.
My life it selfe, and the best heart of it,
Thankes you for this great care: I stood i'th'leuell
Of a full-charg'd confederacie, and giue thankes
To you that choak'd it. Let be cald before vs
That Gentleman of Buckinghams, in person,
Ile heare him his confessions iustifie,
And point by point the Treasons of his Maister,
He shall againe relate.
A noyse within crying roome for the Queene, vsher'd by the
Duke of Norfolke. Enter the Queene, Norfolke
and Suffolke: she kneels. King riseth from his
State, takes her vp, kisses and placeth her by him.

Queen.
Nay, we must longer kneele; I am a Suitor.

King.
Arise, and take place by vs; halfe your Suit
Neuer name to vs; you haue halfe our power:
The other moity ere you aske is giuen,
Repeat your will, and take it.

Queen.
Thanke your Maiesty
That you would loue your selfe, and in that loue
Not vnconsidered leaue your Honour, nor
The dignity of your Office; is the poynt
Of my Petition.

Kin.
Lady mine proceed.

Queen.
I am solicited not by a few,
And those of true condition; That your Subiects
Are in great grieuance: There haue beene Commissions
Sent downe among 'em, which hath flaw'd the heart
Of all their Loyalties; wherein, although
My good Lord Cardinall, they vent reproches
Most bitterly on you, as putter on
Of these exactions: yet the King, our Maister
Whose Honor Heauen shield from soile; euen he escapes not
Language vnmannerly; yea, such which breakes
The sides of loyalty, and almost appeares
In lowd Rebellion.

Norf.
Not almost appeares,
It doth appeare; for, vpon these Taxations,
The Clothiers all not able to maintaine
The many to them longing, haue put off
The Spinsters, Carders, Fullers, Weauers, who
Vnfit for other life, compeld by hunger
And lack of other meanes, in desperate manner
Daring th'euent too th'teeth, are all in vprore,
And danger serues among them.

Kin.
Taxation?
Wherein? and what Taxation? My Lord Cardinall,
You that are blam'd for it alike with vs,
Know you of this Taxation?

Card.
Please you Sir,
I know but of a single part in ought
Pertaines to th'State; and front but in that File
Where others tell steps with me.

Queen.
No, my Lord?
You know no more then others? But you frame
Things that are knowne alike, which are not wholsome
To those which would not know them, and yet must
Perforce be their acquaintance. These exactions
(Whereof my Soueraigne would haue note) they are
Most pestilent to th'hearing, and to beare 'em,
The Backe is Sacrifice to th'load; They say
They are deuis'd by you, er else you suffer
Too hard an exclamation.

Kin.
Still Exaction:
The nature of it, in what kinde let's know,
Is this Exaction?

Queen.
I am much too venturous
In tempting of your patience; but am boldned
Vnder your promis'd pardon. The Subiects griefe
Comes through Commissions, which compels from each
The sixt part of his Substance, to be leuied
Without delay; and the pretence for this
Is nam'd, your warres in France: this makes bold mouths,
Tongues spit their duties out, and cold hearts freeze
Allegeance in them; their curses now
Liue where their prayers did: and it's come to passe,
This tractable obedience is a Slaue
To each incensed Will: I would your Highnesse
Would giue it quicke consideration; for
There is no primer basenesse.

Kin.
By my life,
This is against our pleasure.

Card.
And for me,
I haue no further gone in this, then by
A single voice, and that not past me, but
By learned approbation of the Iudges: 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 Vertue must goe through: we must not stint
Our necessary actions, in the feare
To cope malicious Censurers, which euer,
As rau'nous Fishes doe a Vessell follow
That is new trim'd; but benefit no further
Then vainly longing. What we oft doe best,
By sicke Interpreters (once weake ones) is
Not ours, or not allow'd; what worst, as oft
Hitting a grosser quality, is cride vp
For our best Act: if we shall stand still,
In feare our motion will be mock'd, or carp'd at,
We should take roote here, where we sit;
Or sit State-Statues onely.

Kin.
Things done well,
And with a care, exempt themselues from feare:
Things done without example, in their issue
Are to be fear'd. Haue you a President
Of this Commission? I beleeue, not any.
We must not rend our Subiects from our Lawes,
And sticke them in our Will. Sixt part of each?
A trembling Contribution; why we take
From euery Tree, lop, barke, and part o'th'Timber:
And though we leaue it with a roote thus hackt,
The Ayre will drinke the Sap. To euery County
Where this is question'd, send our Letters, with
Free pardon to each man that has deny'de
The force of this Commission: pray looke too't;
I put it to your care.

Card.
A word with you.
Let there be Letters writ to euery Shire,
Of the Kings grace and pardon: the greeued Commons
Hardly conceiue of me. Let it be nois'd,
That through our Intercession, this Reuokement
And pardon comes: I shall anon aduise you
Further in the proceeding.
Exit Secret.
Enter Surueyor.

Queen.
I am sorry, that the Duke of Buckingham
Is run in your displeasure.

Kin.
It grieues many:
The Gentleman is Learn'd, and a most rare Speaker,
To Nature none more bound; his trayning such,
That he may furnish and instruct great Teachers,
And neuer seeke for ayd out of himselfe: yet see,
When these so Noble benefits shall proue
Not well dispos'd, the minde growing once corrupt,
They turne to vicious formes, ten times more vgly
Then euer they were faire. This man so compleat,
Who was enrold 'mongst wonders; and when we
Almost with rauish'd listning, could not finde
His houre of speech, a minute: He, (my Lady)
Hath into monstrous habits put the Graces
That once were his, and is become as blacke,
As if besmear'd in hell. Sit by Vs, you shall heare
(This was his Gentleman in trust) of him
Things to strike Honour sad. Bid him recount
The fore-recited practises, whereof
We cannot feele too little, heare too much.

Card.
Stand forth, & with bold spirit relate what you
Most like a carefull Subiect haue collected
Out of the Duke of Buckingham.

Kin.
Speake freely.

Sur.
First, it was vsuall with him; euery day
It would infect his Speech: That if the King
Should without issue dye; hee'l carry it so
To make the Scepter his. These very words
I'ue heard him vtter to his Sonne in Law,
Lord Aburgany, to whom by oth he menac'd
Reuenge vpon the Cardinall.

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

Queen.
My learn'd Lord Cardinall,
Deliuer all with Charity.

Kin.
Speake on;
How grounded hee his Title to the Crowne
Vpon our faile; to this poynt hast thou heard him,
At any time speake ought?

Sur.
He was brought to this,
By a vaine Prophesie of Nicholas Henton.

Kin.
What was that Henton?

Sur.
Sir, a Chartreux Fryer,
His Confessor, who fed him euery minute
With words of Soueraignty.

Kin.
How know'st thou this?

Sur.
Not long before your Highnesse sped to France,
The Duke being at the Rose, within the Parish
Saint Laurence Poultney, did of me demand
What was the speech among the Londoners,
Concerning the French Iourney. I replide,
Men feare the French would proue perfidious
To the Kings danger: presently, the Duke
Said, 'twas the feare indeed, and that he doubted
'Twould proue the verity of certaine words
Spoke by a holy Monke, that oft, sayes he,
Hath sent to me, wishing me to permit
Iohn de la Car, my Chaplaine, a choyce howre
To heare from him a matter of some moment:
Whom after vnder the Commissions Seale,
He sollemnly had sworne, that what he spoke
My Chaplaine to no Creature liuing, but
To me, should vtter, with demure Confidence,
This pausingly ensu'de; neither the King, nor's Heyres
(Tell you the Duke) shall prosper, bid him striue
To the loue o'th'Commonalty, the Duke
Shall gouerne England.

Queen.
If I know you well,
You were the Dukes Surueyor, and lost your Office
On the complaint o'th'Tenants; take good heed
You charge not in your spleene a Noble person,
And spoyle your nobler Soule; I say, take heed;
Yes, heartily beseech you.

Kin.
Let him on:
Goe forward.

Sur.
On my Soule, Ile speake but truth.
I told my Lord the Duke, by th'Diuels illusions
The Monke might be deceiu'd, and that 'twas dangerous
For this to ruminate on this so farre, vntill
It forg'd him some designe, which being beleeu'd
It was much like to doe: He answer'd, Tush,
It can doe me no damage; adding further,
That had the King in his last Sicknesse faild,
The Cardinals and Sir Thomas Louels heads
Should haue gone off.

Kin.
Ha? What, so rancke? Ah, ha,
There's mischiefe in this man; canst thou say further?

Sur.
I can my Liedge.

Kin.
Proceed.

Sur.
Being at Greenwich,
After your Highnesse had reprou'd the Duke
About Sir William Blumer.

Kin.
I remember
of such a time, being my sworn seruant,
The Duke retein'd him his. But on: what hence?

Sur.
If (quoth he) I for this had beene committed,
As to the Tower, I thought; I would haue plaid
The Part my Father meant to act vpon
Th'Vsurper Richard, who being at Salsbury,
Made suit to come in's presence; which if granted,
(As he made semblance of his duty) would
Haue put his knife into him.

Kin.
A Gyant Traytor.

Card.
Now Madam, may his Highnes liue in freedome,
And this man out of Prison.

Queen.
God mend all.

Kin.
Ther's somthing more would out of thee; what say'st?

Sur.
After the Duke his Father, with the knife
He stretch'd him, and with one hand on his dagger,
Another spread on's breast, mounting his eyes,
He did discharge a horrible Oath, whose tenor
Was, were he euill vs'd, he would outgoe
His Father, by as much as a performance
Do's an irresolute purpose.

Kin.
There's his period,
To sheath his knife in vs: he is attach'd,
Call him to present tryall: if he may
Finde mercy in the Law, 'tis his; if none,
Let him not seek't of vs: By day and night
Hee's Traytor to th'height.
Exeunt.
Original text
Act I, Scene III
Enter L. Chamberlaine and L. Sandys.

L. Ch.
Is't possible the spels of France should iuggle
Men into such strange mysteries?

L. San.
New customes,
Though they be neuer so ridiculous,
(Nay let 'em be vnmanly) yet are follow'd.

L. Ch.
As farre as I see, all the good our English
Haue got by the late Voyage, is but meerely
A fit or two o'th'face, (but they are shrewd ones)
For when they hold 'em, you would sweare directly
Their very noses had been Councellours
To Pepin or Clotharius, they keepe State so.

L. San.
They haue all new legs, / And lame ones; one would take it,
That neuer see 'em pace before, the Spauen
A Spring-halt rain'd among 'em.

L. Ch.
Death my Lord,
Their cloathes are after such a Pagan cut too't,
That sure th'haue worne out Christendome:
Enter Sir Thomas Louell.
how now?
What newes, Sir Thomas Louell?

Louell.
Faith my Lord,
I heare of none but the new Proclamation,
That's clapt vpon the Court Gate.

L. Cham.
What is't for?

Lou.
The reformation of our trauel'd Gallants,
That fill the Court with quarrels, talke, and Taylors.

L. Cham.
I'm glad 'tis there; / Now I would pray our Monsieurs
To thinke an English Courtier may be wise,
And neuer see the Louure.

Lou.
They must either
(For so run the Conditions) leaue those remnants
Of Foole and Feather, that they got in France,
With all their honourable points of ignorance
Pertaining thereunto; as Fights and Fire-workes,
Abusing better men then they can be
Out of a forreigne wisedome, renouncing cleane
The faith they haue in Tennis and tall Stockings,
Short blistred Breeches, and those types of Trauell;
And vnderstand againe like honest men,
Or pack to their old Playfellowes; there, I take it,
They may Cum Pruiilegio, wee away
The lag end of their lewdnesse, and be laugh'd at.

L. San.
Tis time to giue 'em Physicke, their diseases
Are growne so catching.

L. Cham.
What a losse our Ladies
Will haue of these trim vanities?

Louell.
I marry,
There will be woe indeed Lords, the slye whorsons
Haue got a speeding tricke to lay downe Ladies.
A French Song, and a Fiddle, ha's no Fellow.

L. San.
The Diuell fiddle 'em, / I am glad they are going,
For sure there's no conuerting of 'em: now
An honest Country Lord as I am, beaten
A long time out of play, may bring his plaine song,
And haue an houre of hearing, and by'r Lady
Held currant Musicke too.

L. Cham.
Well said Lord Sands,
Your Colts tooth is not cast yet?

L. San.
No my Lord,
Nor shall not while I haue a stumpe.

L. Cham.
Sir Thomas,
Whither were you a going?

Lou.
To the Cardinals;
Your Lordship is a guest too.

L. Cham.
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 Kingdome Ile assure you.

Lou.
That Churchman / Beares a bounteous minde indeed,
A hand as fruitfull as the Land that feeds vs,
His dewes fall euery where.

L. Cham.
No doubt hee's Noble;
He had a blacke mouth that said other of him.

L. San.
He may my Lord, / Ha's wherewithall in him;
Sparing would shew a worse sinne, then ill Doctrine,
Men of his way, should be most liberall,
They are set heere for examples.

L. Cham.
True, they are so;
But few now giue so great ones: / My Barge stayes;
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 Guilford
This night to be Comptrollers.

L. San.
I am your Lordships.
Exeunt.
Original text
Act I, Scene IV
Hoboies. A small Table vnder a State for the Cardinall,
a longer Table for the Guests. Then Enter Anne Bullen,
and diuers other Ladies, & Gentlemen, as Guests at one
Doore; at an other Doore enter Sir Henry Guilford.

S.Hen. Guilf.
Ladyes, / A generall welcome from his Grace
Salutes ye all; This Night he dedicates
To faire content, and you: None heere he hopes
In all this Noble Beuy, has brought with her
One care abroad: hee would haue all as merry:
As first, good Company, good wine, good welcome,
Can make good people.
Enter L. Chamberlaine L. Sands, and
Louell.
O my Lord, y'are tardy;
The very thought of this faire Company,
Clapt wings to me.

Cham.
You are young Sir Harry Guilford.

San.
Sir Thomas Louell, had the Cardinall
But halfe my Lay-thoughts in him, some of these
Should finde a running Banket, ere they rested,
I thinke would better please 'em: by my life,
They are a sweet society of faire ones.

Lou.
O that your Lordship were but now Confessor,
To one or two of these.

San.
I would I were,
They should finde easie pennance.

Lou.
Faith how easie?

San.
As easie as a downe bed would affoord it.

Cham.
Sweet Ladies will it please you sit; Sir Harry
Place you that side, Ile take the charge of this:
His Grace is entring. Nay, you must not freeze,
Two women plac'd together, makes cold weather:
My Lord Sands, you are one will keepe 'em waking:
Pray sit betweene these Ladies.

San.
By my faith,
And thanke your Lordship: by your leaue sweet Ladies,
If I chance to talke a little wilde, forgiue me:
I had it from my Father.

An. Bul.
Was he mad Sir?

San.
O very mad, exceeding mad, in loue too;
But he would bite none, iust as I doe now,
He would Kisse you Twenty with a breath.

Cham.
Well said my Lord:
So now y'are fairely seated: Gntlemen,
The pennance lyes on you; if these faire Ladies
Passe away frowning.

San.
For my little Cure,
Let me alone.
Hoboyes. Enter Cardinall Wolsey, and takes his State.

Card.
welcome my faire Guests; that noble Lady
Or Gentleman that is not freely merry
Is not my Friend. This to confirme my welcome,
And to you all good health.

San.
Your Grace is Noble,
Let me haue such a Bowle may hold my thankes,
And saue me so much talking.

Card.
My Lord Sands,
I am beholding to you: cheere your neighbours:
Ladies you are not merry; Gentlemen,
Whose fault is this?

San.
The red wine first must rise
In their faire cheekes my Lord, then wee shall haue 'em,
Talke vs to silence.

An. B.
You are a merry Gamster
My Lord Sands.

San.
Yes, if I make my play:
Heer's to your Ladiship, and pledge it Madam:
For tis to such a thing.

An. B.
You cannot shew me.

San.
I told your Grace, they would talke anon.
Drum and Trumpet, Chambers dischargd.

Card.
What's that?

Cham.
Looke out there, some of ye.

Card.
What warlike voyce,
And to what end is this? Nay, Ladies, feare not;
By all the lawes of Warre y'are priuiledg'd.
Enter a Seruant.

Cham.
How now, what is't?

Seru.
A noble troupe of Strangers,
For so they seeme; th'haue left their Barge and landed,
And hither make, as great Embassadors
From forraigne Princes.

Card.
Good Lord Chamberlaine,
Go, giue 'em welcome; you can speake the French tongue
And pray receiue 'em Nobly, and conduct 'em
Into our presence, where this heauen of beauty
Shall shine at full vpon them. Some attend him.
All rise, and Tables remou'd.
You haue now a broken Banket, but wee'l mend it.
A good digestion to you all; and once more
I showre a welcome on yee: welcome all.
Hoboyes. Enter King and others as Maskers,
habited like Shepheards, vsher'd by the Lord Chamberlaine.
They passe directly before the Cardinall and
gracefully salute him.
A noble Company: what are their pleasures?

Cham.
Because they speak no English, thus they praid
To tell your Grace: That hauing heard by fame
Of this so Noble and so faire assembly,
This night to meet heere they could doe no lesse,
(Out of the great respect they beare to beauty)
But leaue their Flockes, and vnder your faire Conduct
Craue leaue to view these Ladies, and entreat
An houre of Reuels with 'em.

Card.
Say, Lord Chamberlaine,
They haue done my poore house grace: / For which I pay 'em
a thousand thankes, / And pray 'em take their pleasures.
Choose Ladies, King and An Bullen.

King.
The fairest hand I euer touch'd: O Beauty,
Till now I neuer knew thee.
Musicke, Dance.

Card.
My Lord.

Cham.
Your Grace.

Card.
Pray tell 'em thus much from me:
There should be one amongst 'em by his person
More worthy this place then my selfe, to whom
(If I but knew him) with my loue and duty
I would surrender it.

Cham.
I will my Lord.
Whisper.

Card.
What say they?

Cham.
Such a one, they all confesse
There is indeed, which they would haue your Grace
Find out, and he will take it.

Card.
Let me see then,
By all your good leaues Gentlemen; heere Ile make
My royall choyce.

Kin.
Ye haue found him Cardinall,
You hold a faire Assembly; you doe well Lord:
You are a Churchman, or Ile tell you Cardinall,
I should iudge now vnhappily.

Card.
I am glad
Your Grace is growne so pleasant.

Kin.
My Lord Chamberlaine,
Prethee come hither, what faire Ladie's that?

Cham.
An't please your Grace, / Sir Thomas Bullens Daughter,
the Viscount Rochford, / One of her Highnesse women.

Kin.
By Heauen she is a dainty one. Sweet heart,
I were vnmannerly to take you out,
And not to kisse you. A health Gentlemen,
Let it goe round.

Card.
Sir Thomas Louell, is the Banket ready
I'th'Priuy Chamber?

Lou.
Yes, my Lord.

Card.
Your Grace
I feare, with dancing is a little heated.

Kin.
I feare too much.

Card.
There's fresher ayre my Lord,
In the next Chamber.

Kin.
Lead in your Ladies eu'ry one: Sweet Partner,
I must not yet forsake you: Let's be merry,
Good my Lord Cardinall: I haue halfe a dozen healths,
To drinke to these faire Ladies, and a measure
To lead 'em once againe, and then let's dreame
Who's best in fauour. Let the Musicke knock it.
Exeunt with Trumpets.
Modern text
Act I, Scene I
Enter the Duke of Norfolk at one door; at the other,
the Duke of Buckingham and the Lord Abergavenny

BUCKINGHAM
Good morrow, and well met. How have ye done
Since last we saw in France?

NORFOLK
I thank your grace,
Healthful, and ever since a fresh admirer
Of what I saw there.

BUCKINGHAM
An untimely ague
Stayed me a prisoner in my chamber when
Those suns of glory, those two lights of men,
Met in the vale of Andren.

NORFOLK
'Twixt Guynes and Arde.
I was then present, saw them salute on horseback,
Beheld them when they lighted, how they clung
In their embracement, as they grew together;
Which had they, what four throned ones could have weighed
Such a compounded one?

BUCKINGHAM
All the whole time
I was my chamber's prisoner.

NORFOLK
Then you lost
The view of earthly glory; men might say,
Till this time pomp was single, but now married
To one above itself. Each following day
Became the next day's master, till the last
Made former wonders its. Today the French,
All clinquant, all in gold, like heathen gods,
Shone down the English; and tomorrow they
Made Britain India; every man that stood
Showed like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were
As cherubins, all gilt; the madams too,
Not used to toil, did almost sweat to bear
The pride upon them, that their very labour
Was to them as a painting. Now this masque
Was cried incomparable; and th' ensuing night
Made it a fool and beggar. The two Kings,
Equal in lustre, were now best, now worst,
As presence did present them: him in eye
Still him in praise; and being present both,
'Twas said they saw but one, and no discerner
Durst wag his tongue in censure. When these suns –
For so they phrase 'em – by their heralds challenged
The noble spirits to arms, they did perform
Beyond thought's compass, that former fabulous story,
Being now seen possible enough, got credit,
That Bevis was believed.

BUCKINGHAM
O, you go far!

NORFOLK
As I belong to worship, and affect
In honour honesty, the tract of everything
Would by a good discourser lose some life
Which action's self was tongue to. All was royal;
To the disposing of it nought rebelled.
Order gave each thing view; the office did
Distinctly his full function.

BUCKINGHAM
Who did guide –
I mean, who set the body and the limbs
Of this great sport together, as you guess?

NORFOLK
One, certes, that promises no element
In such a business.

BUCKINGHAM
I pray you, who, my lord?

NORFOLK
All this was ordered by the good discretion
Of the right reverend Cardinal of York.

BUCKINGHAM
The devil speed him! No man's pie is freed
From his ambitious finger. What had he
To do in these fierce vanities? I wonder
That such a keech can with his very bulk
Take up the rays o'th' beneficial sun,
And keep it from the earth.

NORFOLK
Surely, sir,
There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends;
For, being not propped by ancestry, whose grace
Chalks successors their way, nor called upon
For high feats done to th' crown, neither allied
For eminent assistants, but spider-like,
Out of his self-drawing web, 'a gives us note,
The force of his own merit makes his way –
A gift that heaven gives for him, which buys
A place next to the King.

ABERGAVENNY
I cannot tell
What heaven hath given him – let some graver eye
Pierce into that; but I can see his pride
Peep through each part of him. Whence has he that?
If not from hell, the devil is a niggard,
Or has given all before, and he begins
A new hell in himself.

BUCKINGHAM
Why the devil,
Upon this French going out, took he upon him –
Without the privity o'th' King – t' appoint
Who should attend on him? He makes up the file
Of all the gentry, for the most part such
To whom as great a charge as little honour
He meant to lay upon; and his own letter,
The honourable board of Council out,
Must fetch him in he papers.

ABERGAVENNY
I do know
Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that have
By this so sickened their estates that never
They shall abound as formerly.

BUCKINGHAM
O, many
Have broke their backs with laying manors on 'em
For this great journey. What did this vanity
But minister communication of
A most poor issue?

NORFOLK
Grievingly I think
The peace between the French and us not values
The cost that did conclude it.

BUCKINGHAM
Every man,
After the hideous storm that followed, was
A thing inspired, and, not consulting, broke
Into a general prophecy – that this tempest,
Dashing the garment of this peace, aboded
The sudden breach on't.

NORFOLK
Which is budded out;
For France hath flawed the league, and hath attached
Our merchants' goods at Bordeaux.

ABERGAVENNY
Is it therefore
Th' ambassador is silenced?

NORFOLK
Marry, is't.

ABERGAVENNY
A proper title of a peace, and purchased
At a superfluous rate!

BUCKINGHAM
Why, all this business
Our reverend Cardinal carried.

NORFOLK
Like it your grace,
The state takes notice of the private difference
Betwixt you and the Cardinal. I advise you –
And take it from a heart that wishes towards you
Honour and plenteous safety – that you read
The Cardinal's malice and his potency
Together; to consider further, that
What his high hatred would effect wants not
A minister in his power. You know his nature,
That he's revengeful; and I know his sword
Hath a sharp edge – it's long, and't may be said
It reaches far, and where 'twill not extend,
Thither he darts it. Bosom up my counsel;
You'll find it wholesome. Lo, where comes that rock
That I advise your shunning.
Enter Cardinal Wolsey, the purse borne before him,
certain of the guard, and two Secretaries with papers.
The Cardinal in his passage fixeth his eye on Buckingham,
and Buckingham on him, both full of disdain

WOLSEY
The Duke of Buckingham's surveyor, ha?
Where's his examination?

SECRETARY
Here, so please you.

WOLSEY
Is he in person ready?

SECRETARY
Ay, please your grace.

WOLSEY
Well, we shall then know more, and Buckingham
Shall lessen this big look.
Exeunt Cardinal and his train

BUCKINGHAM
This butcher's cur is venom-mouthed, and I
Have not the power to muzzle him; therefore best
Not wake him in his slumber. A beggar's book
Outworths a noble's blood.

NORFOLK
What, are you chafed?
Ask God for temperance; that's th' appliance only
Which your disease requires.

BUCKINGHAM
I read in's looks
Matter against me, and his eye reviled
Me as his abject object. At this instant
He bores me with some trick. He's gone to th' King.
I'll follow, and outstare him.

NORFOLK
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 allowed 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.

BUCKINGHAM
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.

NORFOLK
Be advised:
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 over-running. Know you not
The fire that mounts the liquor till't run o'er
In seeming to augment it wastes it? Be advised.
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.

BUCKINGHAM
Sir,
I am thankful to you, and I'll go along
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.

NORFOLK
Say not treasonous.

BUCKINGHAM
To th' 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't, 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, th' interview
That swallowed so much treasure, and like a glass
Did break i'th' wrenching.

NORFOLK
Faith, and so it did.

BUCKINGHAM
Pray give me favour, sir. This cunning Cardinal
The articles o'th' combination drew
As himself pleased; and they were ratified
As he cried ‘ Thus let be,’ to as much end
As give a crutch to th' 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 th' 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
Peeped harms 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 promised, whereby his suit was granted
Ere it was asked – but when the way was made,
And paved with gold, the Emperor thus desired
That he would please to alter the King's course
And break the foresaid peace. Let the King know,
As soon he shall by me, that thus the Cardinal
Does buy and sell his honour as he pleases,
And for his own advantage.

NORFOLK
I am sorry
To hear this of him, and could wish he were
Something mistaken in't.

BUCKINGHAM
No, not a syllable:
I do pronounce him in that very shape
He shall appear in proof.
Enter Brandon, a Sergeant-at-Arms before him, and
two or three of the guard

BRANDON
Your office, sergeant: execute it.

SERGEANT
Sir,
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.

BUCKINGHAM
Lo you, my lord,
The net has fall'n upon me! I shall perish
Under device and practice.

BRANDON
I am sorry
To see you ta'en from liberty, to look on
The business present. 'Tis his highness' pleasure
You shall to th' Tower.

BUCKINGHAM
It will help me nothing
To plead mine innocence, for that dye is on me
Which makes my whit'st part black. The will of heaven
Be done in this and all things! I obey.
O my Lord Aberga'nny, fare you well!

BRANDON
Nay, he must bear you company. (to Abergavenny) The King
Is pleased you shall to th' Tower, till you know
How he determines further.

ABERGAVENNY
As the Duke said,
The will of heaven be done, and the King's pleasure
By me obeyed.

BRANDON
Here is a warrant from
The King, t' attach Lord Montacute, and the bodies
Of the Duke's confessor, John de la Car,
One Gilbert Perk, his chancellor –

BUCKINGHAM
So, so;
These are the limbs o'th' plot: no more, I hope.

BRANDON
A monk o'th' Chartreux.

BUCKINGHAM
O, Nicholas Hopkins?

BRANDON
He.

BUCKINGHAM
My surveyor is false. The o'er-great Cardinal
Hath showed him gold. My life is spanned already.
I am the shadow of poor Buckingham,
Whose figure even this instant cloud puts on
By darkening my clear sun. My lord, farewell.
Exeunt
Modern text
Act I, Scene II
Cornets. Enter King Henry, leaning on the Cardinal's
shoulder, the nobles, and Sir Thomas Lovell. The
Cardinal places himself under the King's feet on his
right side. Wolsey's Secretary in attendance

KING HENRY
My life itself, and the best heart of it,
Thanks you for this great care. I stood i'th' level
Of a full-charged confederacy, and give thanks
To you that choked it. Let be called 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 the Queen, ushered by the Dukes of Norfolk
and Suffolk. She kneels. The King riseth from his
state, takes her up, kisses and placeth her by him

QUEEN KATHERINE
Nay, we must longer kneel: I am a suitor.

KING HENRY
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.

QUEEN KATHERINE
Thank your majesty.
That you would love yourself, and in that love
Not unconsidered leave your honour nor
The dignity of your office, is the point
Of my petition.

KING HENRY
Lady mine, proceed.

QUEEN KATHERINE
I am solicited, not by a few,
And those of true condition, that your subjects
Are in great grievance. There have been commissions
Sent down among 'em which hath flawed 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.

NORFOLK
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, compelled by hunger
And lack of other means, in desperate manner
Daring th' event to th' teeth, are all in uproar,
And danger serves among them.

KING HENRY
Taxation?
Wherein? and what taxation? My lord Cardinal,
You that are blamed for it alike with us,
Know you of this taxation?

WOLSEY
Please you, sir,
I know but of a single part in aught
Pertains to th' state, and front but in that file
Where others tell steps with me.

QUEEN KATHERINE
No, my lord?
You know no more than others? But you frame
Things that are known alike, which are not wholesome
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 th' hearing, and to bear 'em
The back is sacrifice to th' load. They say
They are devised by you, or else you suffer
Too hard an exclamation.

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

QUEEN KATHERINE
I am much too venturous
In tempting of your patience, but am boldened
Under your promised pardon. The subject's grief
Comes through commissions, which compels 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
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.

KING HENRY
By my life,
This is against our pleasure.

WOLSEY
And for me,
I have no further gone in this than by
A single voice, and that not passed me but
By learned approbation of the judges. If I am
Traduced 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-trimmed, but benefit no further
Than vainly longing. What we oft do best,
By sick interpreters, once weak ones, is
Not ours, or not allowed; 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 mocked or carped at,
We should take root here where we sit,
Or sit state-statues only.

KING HENRY
Things done well,
And with a care, exempt themselves from fear;
Things done without example, in their issue
Are to be feared. 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'th' timber,
And though we leave it with a root, thus hacked,
The air will drink the sap. To every county
Where this is questioned 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.

WOLSEY
(aside to Secretary)
A word with you.
Let there be letters writ to every shire
Of the King's grace and pardon. The grieved commons
Hardly conceive of me – let it be noised
That through our intercession this revokement
And pardon comes. I shall anon advise you
Further in the proceeding.
Exit Secretary
Enter Surveyor

QUEEN KATHERINE
I am sorry that the Duke of Buckingham
Is run in your displeasure.

KING HENRY
It grieves many.
The gentleman is learned, 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 disposed, 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 enrolled 'mongst wonders, and when we
Almost with ravished 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 besmeared 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.

WOLSEY
Stand forth, and with bold spirit relate what you,
Most like a careful subject, have collected
Out of the Duke of Buckingham.

KING HENRY
Speak freely.

SURVEYOR
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 Aberga'nny, to whom by oath he menaced
Revenge upon the Cardinal.

WOLSEY
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.

QUEEN KATHERINE
My learned lord Cardinal,
Deliver all with charity.

KING HENRY
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?

SURVEYOR
He was brought to this
By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Henton.

KING HENRY
What was that Henton?

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

KING HENRY
How know'st thou this?

SURVEYOR
Not long before your highness sped to France,
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 feared 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
To me should utter, with demure confidence
This pausingly ensued: " Neither the King nor's heirs,
Tell you the Duke, shall prosper. Bid him strive
To win the love o'th' commonalty. The Duke
Shall govern England." ’

QUEEN KATHERINE
If I know you well,
You were the Duke's surveyor, and lost your office
On the complaint o'th' 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.

KING HENRY
Let him on.
Go forward.

SURVEYOR
On my soul, I'll speak but truth.
I told my lord the Duke, by th' devil's illusions
The monk might be deceived, and that 'twas dangerous
For him to ruminate on this so far, until
It forged him some design, which, being believed,
It was much like to do. He answered, ‘ Tush,
It can do me no damage;’ adding further
That, had the King in his last sickness failed,
The Cardinal's and Sir Thomas Lovell's heads
Should have gone off.

KING HENRY
Ha! What, so rank? Ah, ha!
There's mischief in this man. Canst thou say further?

SURVEYOR
I can, my liege.

KING HENRY
Proceed.

SURVEYOR
Being at Greenwich,
After your highness had reproved the Duke
About Sir William Bulmer –

KING HENRY
I remember
Of such a time; being my sworn servant,
The Duke retained him his. But on; what hence?

SURVEYOR
‘ If,’ quoth he, ‘ I for this had been committed,
As to the Tower I thought, I would have played
The part my father meant to act upon
Th' usurper Richard; who, being at Salisbury,
Made suit to come in's presence, which if granted,
As he made semblance of his duty, would
Have put his knife into him.’

KING HENRY
A giant traitor!

WOLSEY
Now, madam, may his highness live in freedom,
And this man out of prison?

QUEEN KATHERINE
God mend all!

KING HENRY
There's something more would out of thee: what sayst?

SURVEYOR
After ‘ the Duke his father,’ with the ‘ knife,’
He stretched him, and, with one hand on his dagger,
Another spread on's breast, mounting his eyes,
He did discharge a horrible oath, whose tenor
Was, were he evil used, he would outgo
His father by as much as a performance
Does an irresolute purpose.

KING HENRY
There's his period,
To sheathe his knife in us. He is attached;
Call him to present trial. If he may
Find mercy in the law, 'tis his; if none,
Let him not seek't of us. By day and night!
He's traitor to th' height!
Exeunt
Modern text
Act I, Scene III
Enter the Lord Chamberlain and Lord Sands

LORD CHAMBERLAIN
Is't possible the spells of France should juggle
Men into such strange mysteries?

SANDS
New customs,
Though they be never so ridiculous,
Nay, let 'em be unmanly, yet are followed.

LORD CHAMBERLAIN
As far as I see, all the good our English
Have got by the late voyage is but merely
A fit or two o'th' 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 reigned among 'em.

LORD CHAMBERLAIN
Death, my lord!
Their clothes are after such a pagan cut to't
That sure they've worn out Christendom.
Enter Sir Thomas Lovell
How now?
What news, Sir Thomas Lovell?

LOVELL
Faith, my lord,
I hear of none but the new proclamation
That's clapped upon the court gate.

LORD CHAMBERLAIN
What is't for?

LOVELL
The reformation of our travelled gallants,
That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors.

LORD CHAMBERLAIN
I'm glad 'tis there. Now I would pray our monsieurs
To think an English courtier may be wise,
And never see the Louvre.

LOVELL
They must either,
For so run the conditions, leave those 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 blistered 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, ‘ oui ’ away
The lag end of their lewdness, and be laughed at.

SANDS
'Tis time to give 'em physic, their diseases
Are grown so catching.

LORD CHAMBERLAIN
What a loss our ladies
Will have of these trim vanities!

LOVELL
Ay, marry,
There will be woe indeed, lords! The sly whoresons
Have got a speeding trick to lay down ladies.
A French song and a fiddle has no fellow.

SANDS
The devil fiddle 'em! I am glad they are going,
For sure there's no converting of 'em. Now
An honest country lord, as I am, beaten
A long time out of play, may bring his plainsong,
And have an hour of hearing, and, by'r lady,
Held current music too.

LORD CHAMBERLAIN
Well said, Lord Sands.
Your colt's tooth is not cast yet?

SANDS
No, my lord,
Nor shall not while I have a stump.

LORD CHAMBERLAIN
Sir Thomas,
Whither were you a-going?

LOVELL
To the Cardinal's;
Your lordship is a guest too.

LORD CHAMBERLAIN
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.

LOVELL
That churchman bears a bounteous mind indeed,
A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us.
His dews fall everywhere.

LORD CHAMBERLAIN
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.

LORD CHAMBERLAIN
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 Guilford,
This night to be comptrollers.

SANDS
I am your lordship's.
Exeunt
Modern text
Act I, Scene IV
Hautboys. A small table under a state for the Cardinal,
a longer table for the guests. Then enter Anne Bullen
and divers other ladies and gentlemen as guests, at one
door; at another door, enter Sir Henry Guilford

GUILFORD
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
Clapped wings to me.

LORD CHAMBERLAIN
You are young, Sir Harry Guilford.

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 'em. By my life,
They are a sweet society of fair ones.

LOVELL
O that your lordship were but now confessor
To one or two of these!

SANDS
I would I were;
They should find easy penance.

LOVELL
Faith, how easy?

SANDS
As easy as a down bed would afford it.

LORD CHAMBERLAIN
Sweet ladies, will it please you sit? Sir Harry,
Place you that side; I'll take the charge of this.
His grace is entering. – Nay, you must not freeze –
Two women placed together makes cold weather.
My Lord Sands, you are one will keep 'em waking:
Pray sit between these ladies.

SANDS
By my faith,
And thank your lordship. By your leave, sweet ladies.
If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me;
I had it from my father.

ANNE
Was he mad, sir?

SANDS
O, very mad, exceeding mad, in love too;
But he would bite none. Just as I do now,
He would kiss you twenty with a breath.
He kisses her

LORD CHAMBERLAIN
Well said, my lord.
So, now you're fairly seated. Gentlemen,
The penance lies on you if these fair ladies
Pass away frowning.

SANDS
For my little cure,
Let me alone.
Hautboys. Enter Cardinal Wolsey and takes his state

WOLSEY
You're welcome, my fair guests. That noble lady
Or gentleman that is not freely merry
Is not my friend. This, to confirm my welcome –
And to you all, good health!
He drinks

SANDS
Your grace is noble.
Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks,
And save me so much talking.

WOLSEY
My Lord Sands,
I am beholding to you. Cheer your neighbours.
Ladies, you are not merry! Gentlemen,
Whose fault is this?

SANDS
The red wine first must rise
In their fair cheeks, my lord; then we shall have 'em
Talk us to silence.

ANNE
You are a merry gamester,
My Lord Sands.

SANDS
Yes, if I make my play.
Here's to your ladyship; and pledge it, madam,
For 'tis to such a thing –

ANNE
You cannot show me.

SANDS
I told your grace they would talk anon.
Drum and trumpet. Chambers discharged

WOLSEY
What's that?

LORD CHAMBERLAIN
Look out there, some of ye.
Exit a Servant

WOLSEY
What warlike voice,
And to what end, is this? Nay, ladies, fear not;
By all the laws of war you're privileged.
Enter Servant

LORD CHAMBERLAIN
How now, what is't?

SERVANT
A noble troop of strangers,
For so they seem. They've left their barge and landed,
And hither make, as great ambassadors
From foreign princes.

WOLSEY
Good Lord Chamberlain,
Go, give 'em welcome – you can speak the French tongue;
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 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 Chamberlain.
They pass directly before the Cardinal, and
gracefully salute him
A noble company! What are their pleasures?

LORD CHAMBERLAIN
Because they speak no English, thus they prayed
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 'em.

WOLSEY
Say, Lord Chamberlain,
They have done my poor house grace; for which I pay 'em
A thousand thanks, and pray 'em take their pleasures.
They choose ladies; the King chooses Anne Bullen

KING HENRY
The fairest hand I ever touched! O beauty,
Till now I never knew thee.
Music. Dance

WOLSEY
My lord!

LORD CHAMBERLAIN
Your grace?

WOLSEY
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.

LORD CHAMBERLAIN
I will, my lord.
He whispers with the masquers

WOLSEY
What say they?

LORD CHAMBERLAIN
Such a one, they all confess,
There is indeed, which they would have your grace
Find out, and he will take it.

WOLSEY
Let me see then.
He comes from his state
By all your good leaves, gentlemen; here I'll make
My royal choice.
The King unmasks

KING HENRY
Ye have found him, Cardinal.
You hold a fair assembly; you do well, lord.
You are a churchman, or I'll tell you, Cardinal,
I should judge now unhappily.

WOLSEY
I am glad
Your grace is grown so pleasant.

KING HENRY
My Lord Chamberlain,
Prithee come hither: what fair lady's that?

LORD CHAMBERLAIN
An't please your grace, Sir Thomas Bullen's daughter,
The Viscount Rochford, one of her highness' women.

KING HENRY
By heaven, she is a dainty one. Sweetheart,
I were unmannerly to take you out
And not to kiss you. A health, gentlemen!
Let it go round.

WOLSEY
Sir Thomas Lovell, is the banquet ready
I'th' privy chamber?

LOVELL
Yes, my lord.

WOLSEY
Your grace,
I fear, with dancing is a little heated.

KING HENRY
I fear, too much.

WOLSEY
There's fresher air, my lord,
In the next chamber.

KING HENRY
Lead in your ladies every one. Sweet partner,
I must not yet forsake you. Let's be merry,
Good my lord Cardinal: I have half a dozen healths
To drink to these fair ladies, and a measure
To lead 'em once again; and then let's dream
Who's best in favour. Let the music knock it.
Exeunt, with trumpets
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