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Who was enroll’d'mongst wonders, and when we, ||Go forward.
Almost with ravish'd list’ning, could not find

On my soul, I'll speak but truth.
His hour of speech a minute ; he, my lady, I told my lord the duke, By the devil's illusions
Hath into monstrous habits put the graces The monk might be deceiv'd; and that 'twas
That once were his, and is become as black

dang'rous for him, As if besmeard in hell. Sit by us, you shall hear To ruminate on this so far, until (This was his gentleman in trust,) of him It forg'd him some design, which, being believ'd, Things to strike honour sad. -Bid him recount It was much like to do: He answer'd, Tush! The fore-recited practices; whereof

It can do me no damage: adding further, We cannot feel too little, hear too much. That, had the king in his last sickness fail'd, Wol. Stand forth; and with bold spirit relate The cardinal's and sir Thomas Lovell's heads what you,

Should have gone off. Most like a careful subject, have collected

K. Hen.

Ha! what, so rank? Ah, ha! Out of the duke of Buckingham.

There's mischief in this man :-Canst thou say furK. Hen.

Speak freely.

ther? Surv. First, it was usual with him, every day Surv. I can, my liege. It would infect his speech, That if the king

K. Hen.

Proceed. Should without issue die, he'd carry' it so


Being at Greenwich, To make the sceptre his: These very words After your highness had reprov'd the duke I have heard him utter to his son-in-law,

About sir William Blomer, Lord Aberga'ny ; to whom by oath he menac'd K. Hen.

I remember, Revenge upon the cardinal.

Of such a time :-Being my servant sworn, Wol.

Please your highness, note | The duke retain'd him his.- -But on; What This dangerous conception in this point.

hence? Not friended by his wish, to your high person Surv. If, quoth he, I for this had been comHis will is most malignant; and it stretches

mitied, Beyond you, to your friends.

As to the Tower, I thought, I would have play'd Q. Kath.

My learn'd lord cardinal, || The part my father meant to act upon Deliver all with charity.

The usurper Richard: who, being at Salisbury, K. Hen. Speak on :

Made suit to come in his presence; which, if How grounded he his title to the crown,

C'pon our fail to this point hast thou heard him As he made semblance of his duty, would
Ai any time speak aught?

Have put his knife into him.
He was brought to this K. Hen.

A giant traitor! By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Hopkins.

Wol. Now, madain, may his highness live in K. Hen. What was that Hopkins ?

freedom, Suru.

Sir, a Chartreux friar, || And this man out of prison ? His confessor; who fed him every minute

R. Kath.

God mend all ! With words of sovereignty:

Á. Hen. There's something more would out of K. Hen. How know'st thou this?

thee; What say'st ? Suro. Not long before your highness sped to Surv. After—the duke his father,--with the France,

knife,The duke being at the Rose, within the parish He stretch'd him, and, with one hand on his dagger, Saint Lawrence Poultney, did of me demand Another spread on his breast, mounting his eyes, What was the speech amongst the Londoners He did discharge a horrible oath ; whose tenor Concerning the French journey: I replied, Was,-Were he evil us'd, he would out-go Men fear'd, the French would prove perfidious, His father, by as much as a performance To the king's ger. Presently the duke

Does an irresolute purpose. Said, 'Twas the fear, indeed; and that he doubted, K. Hen.

There's his period, "Twould prove the verity of certain words To sheath his knife in us. He is attach'd; Spoke by a holy monk; That oft, says he, Call him to present trial : if he may Hath sent to me, wishing me to permit

Find mercy in the law, 'tis his; if none, John de la Court, my chaplain, a choice hour Let him not seek’t of us : By day and night, To hear from him a matter of some moment: He's traitor to the height.

(Exeunt. Whom after under the confession's seal He solemnly had sworn, that, what he spoke,

SCENE III.-A room in the palace. Enter the

Lord Chamberlain, and Lord Sands.
My chaplain to no creature living, but
To me, should utter, with demure

confidence Cham. Is it possible, the spells of France should This pausingly ensu’d, -Neither the king, nor his juggle heirs,

Men into such strange mysteries? (Tell you the duke) shall prosper : bid him strive Sands.

New customs, To gain the love of the commonally; the duke Though they be never so ridiculous, Shall govern England.

Nay, let them be unmanly, yet are follow'd. 2. Kath. If I know you well,

Cham. As far as I see, all the good our English You were the duke's surveyor, and lost your Have got by the late voyage, is but merely office

A fit3 or two of the face; but they are shrewd ones; On the complaint o'the tenants : Take good heed, || For when they hold them, you would swear directly, You charge not in your spleen a noble person, Their very noses had been counsellors And spoil your nobler soul! I say, take heed; To Pepin, or Clotharius, they keep state so. Yes, heartily beseech you.

Sands. They ha.e all new legs, and lame ones; K. Hen. Let him on :

one would take it,

That never saw them pace before, the spavin, (1) Conduct, manage. (2) Now Merchant-Taylor's School.

(3) Grimace.


A springhalt reign'd among them.

They are set here for examples.
Death! my lord, Cham,

True, they are so; Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too. But few now give so great ones. My barge stays That, sure, they have worn out Christendom. How Your lordship shall along :-Come, good sir Thomas, now?

We shall be late else : which I would not be, What news, sir Thomas Lovell ?

For I was spoke to, with sir Henry Guildford,

This night, to be comptrollers.
Enter Sir Thomas Lovell.


I am your lordship's. Lov. 'Faith, my lord,

(Eseunt. I hear of none, but the new proclamation SCENE IV.-The presence chamber in YorkThat's clapp'd upon the court-gate.

place. Hautboys. A small table under a state Cham.

What is't for?

for the Cardinal, a longer table for the guests. Lov. The reformation of our travell'd gallants, Enter at one door, Anne Bullen, and divers That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors. Lords, Ladies, and Gentlewomen, as guests ; Cham. I am glad, 'tis there; now I would pray at another door, enter Sir Henry Guildford.

our monsieurs To think an English courtier may be wise,

Guild. Ladies, a general welcome from his grace And never see the Louvre.2

Salutes ye all: This night he dedicates Lov.

They must either

To fair content, and you: none here, he hopes, (For so run the conditions) leave these remnants

In all this noble bevy, has brought with her Of fool, and feather, that they got in France,

One care abroad; he would have all as merry With all their honourable points of ignorance,

As first-good company, good wine, good welcome, Pertaining thereunto (as fights, and fireworks;

Can make good people.—0, my lord, you are tardy; Abusing better men than they can be,

Enter Lord Chamberlain, Lord Sands, and Sir Out of a foreign wisdom,) renouncing clean

Thomas Lovell.
The faith they have in tennis, and tall stockings, The very thought of this fair company
Short blisterd breeches, and those types of travel, || Clapp'd wings to me.
And understand again like honest men;

Cham. You are young, sir Harry Guildford. Or pack to their old playfellows: there, I take it, Sands. Sir Thomas Lovell, had the cardinal They may, cum privilegio, wear away

But half my lay-thoughts in him, some of these The lag end of their lewdness, and be laugh'd at. Should find a running banquet ere they rested, Sands. 'Tis time to give them physic, their dis- I think, would better please them: By my life,

They are a sweet society of fair ones. Are grown so catching.

Lov. O, that your lordship were but now corr Cham. What a loss our ladies

fessor Will have of these trim vanities !

To one or two of these!
Ay, marry, Sands.

I would I were;
There will be wo indeed, lords ; the sly whore- || They should find easy penance.


'Faith, how easy? Have got a speeding trick to lay down ladies; Sands. As easy as a down-bed would afford it. A French song, and a fiddle, has no fellow. Cham. Sweet ladies, will it please you sit? Sir Sands. The devil fiddle them! I am glad, they're Harry, going ;

Place you that side, I'll take the charge of this : (For, sure, there's no converting of them;) now His grace is ent'ring.--Nay, you must not freeze; An honest country lord, as I am, beaten

Two women plac'd together makes cold weather :A long time out of play, may bring his plain- || My lord Sands, you are one will keep them waking; song,

Pray, sit between these ladies. And have an hour of hearing; and, by'r-lady, Sands.

By my faith, Held current music too.

And thank your lordship.-By your leave, sweet Cham. Well said, lord Sands;

ladies : Your colt's tooth is not cast yet.

[Seats himself between Anne Bullen and Sands. No, my lord;

another lady. Nor shall not, while I have a stump.

If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me; Cham.

Sir Thomas, I had it from my father. Whither were you a going?


Was he mad, sir? Lov.

To the cardinal's; Sands. O, very mad, exceeding mad; in love too: Your lordship is a guest too.

But he would bíte none; just as I do now,

O, 'tis true :
This night he makes a supper, and a great one,

He would kiss you twenty with a breath.

(Kisses her. To many lords and ladies; there will be


Well said, my lord. The beauty of this kingdom, I'll assure you. So, now you are fairly seated :-Gentlemen, Lou. That churchman bears a bounteous mind The penance lies on you, if these fair ladies indeed,

Pass away frowning. A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us;


For my little cure, His dews fall every where.

Let me alone. Cham.

No doubt, he's noble ; He had a black mouth, that said other of him.

Hautboys. Enter Cardinal Wolsey, attended,

and takes his state. Sands. He may, my lord, he has wherewithal; in him,

Wol. You are welcome, my fair guests; that noSparing would show a worse sin than ill doctrine : ble lady, Men of his way should be most liberal,

(4) The speaker is at Bridewell, and the cardi. (1) A disease incident to horses.

nal's house was at Whitehall. (2) A palace at Paris. (3) With authority. (5) Company. (6) Chair

Or gentleman, that is not freely merry,

K. Hen. The fairest hand I ever touch'd! O, Is not my friend : This, to confirm my welcome ;

beauty, And to you all good health.

(Drinks. Till now I never knew thee. (Music. Dance. Sands.

Your grace is noble ;- Wol. My lord, Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks, Cham.

Your grace? And save me so much talking.

Wol. Pray, tell them thus much from me: Wol.

My lord Sands, There should be one amongst them, by his person,
I am beholden to you : cheer your neighbours. — More worthy this place than myself; to whom,
Ladies, you are not merry ;-Gentlemen, If I but knew him, with my love and duty
Whose fault is this?

I would surrender it.
The red wine first must rise Cham.

I will, my lord. In their fair cheeks, my lord; then we shall have (Cham. goes to the company, and returns. them

Wol. What say they ? Talk us to silence.


Such a one, they all confess, Anne.

You are a merry gamester, There is, indeed; which they would have your grace My lord Sands.

Find out, and he will take it.3
Yes, if I make my play.!


Let me see then. Here's to your ladyship; and pledge it, madam,

(Comes from his state. For 'tis to such a thing,

By all your good leaves, gentlemen ;-Here I'll Anne. You cannot show me.

make Sands. I told your grace, they would talk anon. My royal choice. [Drum and trumpets within : chambers K. Hen.

You have found him, cardinal : discharged.

(Unmasking. Wol.

What's that? | You hold a fair assembly; you do well, my lord : Cham. Look out there, some of you.

You are a churchman, or, I'll tell you, cardinal,

(Éxit a Servant. || I should judge now unhappily.4
What warlike voice? Wol.

I am glad,
And to what end is this ?-Nay, ladies, fear not ; Your grace is grown so pleasant.
By all the laws of war you are privileg'd.

K. Hen.

My lord chamberlain,

Pr'ythee, come hither : What fair lady's that? Re-enter Servant.

Cham. An't please your grace, sir Thomas BulCham. How now? what is't?


daughter, Sero.

A noble troop of strangers ; || The viscount Rochford, one of her highness' women. For so they seem: they have left their barge, and K. Hen. By heaven, she is a dainty one.-Sweetlanded;

heart, And hither make, as great ambassadors I were unmannerly, to take you out, From foreign princes.

And not to kiss you.-A health, gentlemen, Wol.

Good lord chamberlain, Let it go round. Go, give them welcome ; you can speak the French Wol. Sir Thomas Lovell, is the banquet ready tongue;

I'the privy chamber?
And, pray, receive them nobly, and conduct them Lov.

Yes, my lord.
Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty Wol.
Shall shine at full upon them:-Some attend him. I fear, with dancing is a little heated.

(Exit Chamberlain, attended. All arise, K. Hen. I fear, too much.
and tables removed.


There's fresher air, my lord, You have now a broken banquet; but we'll mend it. In the next chamber. A good digestion to you all : and, once more, K. Hen. Lead in your ladies, every one.-Sweet I shower a welcome on you;-Welcome all.

partner, Hautboys. Enter the King, and twelve others, as Good my lord cardinal, I have half a dozen healths

I must not yet forsake you :-Let's be merry ;maskers, habited like Shepherds, with sixteenTo

drink to these fair ladies, and a measures Torch-bearers ; ushered by the Lord Chamber- To lead them once again ; and then let's dream lain. They pass directly before the Cardinal, Who's best in favour - Let the music knock it. and gracefully salute him.

(Exeunt, with trumpets. A noble company! what are their pleasures? Cham. Because they speak no English, thus they

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,

SCENE I.-A street. Enter tro Gentlemen, Out of the great respect they bear to beauty,

meeting. But leave their flocks; and, under your fair conduct,

i Gent. Whither away so fast? Crave leave to view these ladies, and entreat

0,-God save you! An hour of revels with them.

Even to the hall, to hear what shall become Wol.

Say, lord chamberlain, Of the great duke of Buckingham. They have done my poor house grace ; for which 1 Gent.

I'll save you I pay them

That labour, sir. All's now done, but the ceremony A thousand thanks, and pray them take their plea- || or bringing back the prisoner.

2 Gent.

Were you there? ¡Ladies chosen for the dance. The King 1 Gent. Yes, indeed, was I. chooses Anne Bullen.

(3) The chief place. (4) Mischievously. (1) Choose my game. (2) Small cannon.

(5) Dance.

Your grace,

2 Gent.






2 Gent. Pray, speak, what has happen'd? || Hear what I say, and then go home and lose me. 1 Gent. You may guess quickly what. I have this day receiv'd a traitor's judgment, 2 Gent.

Is he found guilty ? || And by that name must die; Yet, heaven bear wit1 Gent. Yes, truly is he, and condemn'd upon

it. 2 Gent. I am sorry for't.

And, if I have a conscience, let it sink me, 1 Gent.

So are a number more. Even as the axe falls, if I be not faithful! 2 Gent. But, pray, how pass’d it?

The law I bear no malice for my death, 1 Gent. I'll tell you in a little. The great duke It has done, upon the premises, but justice : Came to the bar; where, to his accusations, But those, thai sought it, I could wish more ChrisHe pleaded still, not guilty, and alleg'd

tians : Many sharp reasons to defeat the law.

Be what they will, I heartily forgive them : The king's attorney, on the contrary,

Yet let them look, they glory not in mischief, Urg'd on the examinations, proofs, confessions Nor build their evils on the graves of great men; of divers witnesses ; which the duke desir'd For then my guiltless blood must cry against them : To him brought, vivâ voce, to his face :

For further life in this world I'ne'er hope, At which appear'd against him, his surveyor; Nor will I sue, although the king have mercies Sir Gilbert Peck his chancellor; and John Court, | More than I dare make faults. You few that lor'd Confessor to him ; with that devil-monk, Hopkins, that made this mischief.

And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham, 2 Gent.

That was he, His noble friends, and fellows, whom to leave That fed him with his prophecies?

Is only bitter to him, only dying, 1 Gent.

The same.

Go with me, like good angels, to my end; All these accus'd him strongly; which he fain And, as the long divorce of steel falls on me, Would have flung from him, but, indeed, he could Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice,

And lift my soul to heaven.-Lead on, o'God's name. And so his peers, upon this evidence,

Lov. I do beseech your grace, for charity, Have found him guilty of high treason. Much If ever any malice in your heart He spoke, and learnedly, for life: but all Were hid against me, now to forgive me frankly. Was either pitied in him, or forgotten.

Buck. Sir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive you, 2 Gent. After all this, how did he bear himself? || As I would be forgiven: I forgive all; 1 Gent. When he was brought again to the bar,- There cannot be those numberless offences to hear

'Gainst me, I can't take peace with: no black envy His knell rung out, his judgment,—he was stirr'd Shall makel my grave.- Commend me to his grace; With such an agony, he sweat extremely, And, if he speak of Buckingham, pray, tell him, And something spoke in choler, ill, and hasty : You met him half in heaven: My vows and prayers But he fell to himself again, and, sweetly, Yet are the king's; and, till my soul forsake me, In all the rest show'd a most noble patience. Shall cry for blessings on him: May he live

2 Gent. I do not think, he fears death. Longer than I have time to tell his years! 1 Gent.

Sure, he does not. Ever belov'd, and loving, may his rule be! He never was so womanish: the cause

And, when old time shall lead him to his end, He may a little grieve at.

Goodness and he fill up one monument! 2 Gent. Certainly,

Lov. To the water-side I must conduct your The cardinal is the end of this.

grace; 1 Gent.

'Tis likely,

Then give my charge up to sir Nicholas Vaux, By all conjectures : First, Kildare's attainder, Who undertakes you to your end. Then deputy of Ireland; who remov'd,


Prepare there, Earl Surrey was sent thither, and in baste too, The duke is coming: see, the barge be ready; Lest he should help his father.

And fit it with such furniture, as suits 2 Gent.

That trick of state, || The greatness of his person. Was a deep envious one.


Nay, sir Nicholas, 1 Gent. At his return,

Let it alone; my state now will but mock me. No doubt, he will requite it. This is noted, When I came hither, I was lord high constable, And generally; whoever the king favours, And duke of Buckingham; now, poor Edward The cardinal instantly will find employment,

Bohun : And far enough from court too.

Yet I am richer than my base accusers, 2 Gent.

All the commons | That never knew what truth meant: I now seal it. Hate him perniciously, and o'my conscience,

And with that blood will make them one day groan Wish him ten fathom deep: this duke as much

for't. They love and dote on; call him, bounteous Buck- My noble father, Henry of Buckingham, ingham,

Who first rais'd head against usurping Richard, The mirror of all courtesy ;

Flying for succour to his servant Banister, 1 Gent.

Stay there, sir, Being distress'd, was by that wretch betray'd, And see the noble ruin'd man you speak of. And without trial fell ; 'God's peace be with him! Enter Buckingham from his arraignment; Tip: || My father's loss, like a most royal prince,

Heary the Seventh succeeding, truly pitying staves before him, the are with the edge towards Restor'd me to my honours, and out of ruins, him; halberds on each side; with him, Sir | Made my name once more noble. Now his son,

Thomas Lovell, Sir Nicholas Vaux, Sir William Henry the Eighth, life, honour, name, and all
Sands, and common people.

That made me happy, at one stroke has taken 2 Gent. Let's stand close, and behold him. For ever from the world. I had my trial, Buck.

All good people,|| And, must needs say, a noble one ; which makes me * You that thus far have come to pity ine,

A little happier than my wretched father:

Yet thus far we are one in fortunes,-Both (1) Close.

Fell by our servants, by those men we lov'd most

A most unnatural and faithless service! He will have all, I think.
Heaven has an end in all: Yet, you that hear me,
This from a dying man receive as certain :

Enter the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk. Where you are liberal of your loves, and counsels,


Well met, my good Be sure, you be not loose; for those you make Lord chamberlain. friends,


Good day to both your graces. And give your hearts to, when they once perceive

Suff. How is the king employ'd? The least rub in your fortunes, fall away


I left him private, Like water from ye, never found again

Full of sad thoughts and troubles. But where they mean to sink ye. All good people,


What's the cause ? Pray for me! I must now forsake ye; the last hour,

Cham. It seems, the marriage with his brother's of my long weary life is come upon me.

wife Farewell :

Has crept too near his conscience. And when you would say something that is sad,


No, his conscience Speak how I fell.—- I have done ; and God forgive Has crept too near another lady. me! [Exeunt Buckingham and train. This is the cardinal's doing, the king-cardinal :

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

That blind priest, like the eldest son of fortune, That were the authors.

Turns what he lists. The king will know him one 2 Gent. If the duke be guiltless,

day. 'Tis full of wo: yet I can give you inkling

Suff. Pray God, he do! he'll never know himself Of an ensuing evil, if it fall,

else. Greater than this.

Nor. How holily he works in all his business! 1 Gent. Good angels keep it from us ! || And with what zeal ! For, now he has crack'd the Where may it be ? You do not doubt my faith, sir: Between us and the emperor, the queen's great

2 Gent. This secret is so weighty, 'twill require A strong faith to conceal it.

nephew, 1 Gent.

Let me have it;

He dives into the king's soul; and there scatters I do not talk much.

Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience, 2 Gent. I am confident;

Fears, and despairs, and all these for his marYou shall, sir : Did you not of late days hear

riage: A buzzing, of a separation

And, out of all these to restore the king, Between the king and Katharine ?

He counsels a divorce; a loss of her, I Gent.

Yes, but it held not; || That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years For when the king once heard it, out of anger

About his neck, yet never lost her lustre ; He sent command to the lord mayor, straight

Of her, that loves him with that excellence To stop the rumour, and allay those tongues

That angels love good men with ; even of her That durst disperse it.

That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls, 2 Gent. But that slander, sir,

Will bless the king : And is not this course pious ? Is found a truth now: for it grows again

Cham. Heaven keep me from such counsel! 'Tis Fresher than e'er it was; and held for certain,

most true, The king will venture at it. Either the cardinal, These news are every where; every tongue speaks Or some about him near, have, out of malice

them, To the good queen, possess'd him with a scruple

And every true heart weeps fort: All, that dare That will undo her: To confirm this too,

Look into these affairs, see this main end, Cardinal Campeius is arriv'd, and lately;

The French king's sister. Heaven will one day open As all think, for this business.

The king's eyes, that so long have slept upon 1 Gent.

'Tis the cardinal ; || This bold bad man. And merely to revenge him on the emperor,


And free us from his slavery. For not bestowing on him, at his asking,

Nor. We had need pray, The archbishopric of Toledo, this is purpos'd.

And heartily, for our deliverance; 2 Gent. I think, you have hit the mark : But ist | Or this imperious man will work us all not cruel,

From princes into pages: all men's honours That she should feel the smart of this? The cardinal Lie in one lump before him, to be fashion'd Will have his will, and she must fall.

Into what pitch2 he please. 1 Gent.

'Tis woful.

For me, my lords, We are too open here to argue this ;

I love him not, nor fear him; there's my creed : Let's think in private more.


As I am made without him, so I'll stand,

If the king please ; his curses and his blessings SCENE II.-An ante-chamber in the palace. Touch me alike, they are breath I not believe in. Enter the Lord Chamberlain, reading a letter. I knew him, and I know him; so I leave him

To him, that made him proud, the pope. Cham. My lord,—The horses your lordship sent Nor.

Let's in ; for, with all the care I had, I saw well chosen, rid. || And, with some other business, put the king, den, and furnished. They were young, and hand- From these sad thoughts, that work too much upon some; and of the best breed in the north. When

him :they were ready to set out for London, a man of My lord, you'll bear us company? my lord cardinal's, by commission, and main Cham.

Excuse me; power, took 'en from me; with this reason,--His| The king hath sent me other-where: Besides, master would be served before a subject, if not be- | You'll find a most unfit time to disturb him: fore the king: which stopped our mouths, sir. Health to your lordships. I fear, he will, indeed : Well, let him have them

Nor. Thanks, my good lord chamberlain.

(Exit Lord Chamberlain. (1) Great fidelity.

(2) High or low.

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