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Sweet partner,

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By all conjectures: First, Kildare's attainder, Then deputy of Ireland; who remov'd,

Earl Surrey was sent thither, and in haste too Lest he should help his father.

2 Gent. That trick of state

Was a deep envious one.

1 Gent. At his return,

No doubt he will requite it. This is noted,

I must not yet forsake you :-Let's be mer-And generally; whoever the king favours,

ry ;

Good my lord cardinal, I have half a dozen healths

To drink to these fair ladies, and a measure *
To lead them once again; and then let's dream
Who's best in favour.-Let the music knock it.
[Exeunt, with trumpets.

ACT II.

SCENE 1.-A Street.

Enter two GENTLEMEN, meeting.

1 Gent. Whither away so fast?

2 Gent. C God save you!

Even to the hall to hear what shall become

of the great duke of Buckingham.

1 Gent. I'll save you

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 ;1 Gent. Stay there, Sir,

And see the noble ruin'd man you speak of. Enter BUCKINGHAM from his arraignment; Tip-staves before him, the axe with the edge towards him; halberts 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,

That labour, Sir. All's now done, but the ce- Hear what I say, and then go home and lose me.

remony

Of bringing back the prisoner.

2 Gent. Were you there ?

1 Gent. Yes, indeed, was I.

2 Gent. Pray, speak, what has happen'd? 1 Gent. You may guess quickly what.

2 Gent. Is he found guilty?

1 Gent. Yes, truly is he, and condemn'd upon it.

2 Gent. I am sorry for't.

1 Gent. So are a number more,

2 Gent. But, pray, how pass'd it?

1 Gent. I'll tell you in a little. The great duke

Came to the bar; where, to his accusations,
He pleaded still, not guilty, and alleg'd
Many sharp reasons to defeat the law.
The king's attorney, on the contrary,

Urg'd on the examinations, proofs, confessions,
Of divers witnesses; which the duke desir'd

To him brought, viva voce, to his face:
At which appear'd against him, his surveyor;
Sir Gilbert Peck, his chancellor; and John
Court,

Confessor to him; with that devil-monk,
Hopkins, that made this mischief.

2 Gent. That was he,

That fed him with his prophecies ?

1 Gent. The same.

All these accus'd him strongly; which he fain Would have flung from him, but, indeed, he

could not:

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 wrung 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,

• Dance.

I have this day receiv'd a traitor's judgment, And by that name must die: Yet, heaven bear

witness,

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Lov. To the water side I must conduct your | Is found a truth now: for it grows again

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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 succour to his servant Banister,
Being distress'd, was by that wretch betray'd,

Fresher than e'er it was; and held for certain The king will venture at it. Either the car

dinal,

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, For not bestowing on him, at his asking, The archbishoprick of Toledo, this is purpos'd. 2 Gent. I think you have hit the mark; But is't not cruel,

That she should feel the smart of this? The cardinal

Will have his will, and she must fall.
1 Gent. 'Tis woful.

We are too open here to argue this;
Let's think in private more.

[Exeunt.

And without trial fell: God's peace be with SCENE II-An Ante-chamber in the Pa

him!

Henry the seventh succeeding, truly pitying
My father's loss, like a most royal prince,
Restor❜d me to my honours, and, out of ruins,
Made my name once more noble. Now his
son,

Henry the eighth, life, honour, name, and all
That made me happy, at one stroke has taken
For ever from the world. I had 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 coun-
sels,

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
Like water from ye, never found again
But where they mean to sink ye.

people,

All good

Pray for me! I must now forsake ye; the last

bour

Of my long weary life is come upon me.
Farewell :

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. Oh! 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. Let me have it;

I do not talk much.

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 rumour, and allay those tongues That durst disperse it.

2 Gent. But that slander, Sir,

• Great fidelity.

lace.

Enter the Lord CHAMBERLAIN, reading a Letter.

Cham. My lord,-The horses your lordship sent for, with all the care I had, I saw well chosen, ridden, and furnished. They were young and handsome, and of the best breed in the north. When they were ready to set out for London, a man of my lord cardinal's, by commission, and main power, took 'em from me; with this reason,-His master would be served before a subject, if not before the king : which stopped our mouths, Sir.

I fear he will, indeed; Well, let him have them. He will have all, I think.

Enter the Dukes of NORFOLK and SUFFOLK. Nor. Well met, my good

Lord Chamberlain.

Cham. Good day to both your graces.
Suf. How is the king employ'd ?
Cham. I left him private,

Full of sad thoughts and troubles.
Nor. What's the cause?

Cham. It seems, the marriage with bis brother's wife

Has crept too near his couscience.
Suf. No, his conscience

Has crept too near another lady.
Nor. 'Tis so;

This is the cardinal's doing, the king-cardinal: That blind priest, like the eldest son of fortune,

Turns what he lists. The king will know him one day.

Suf. Pray God, he do! he'll never know him

self else.

Nor. How holily he works in all his business !

And with what zeal! For now he has crack'd the league

Between us and the emperor, the queen's great nephew,

He dives into the king's soul, and there scat

ters

Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience, Fears, and despairs, and all these for his mar

riage :

And, out of all these to restore the king,
He counsels a divorce: a loss of her
That like a jewel, has hung twenty years
About his neck, yet never lost her lustre ;
Of her that loves bim with that excellence
That angels love good men with; even of her
That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls,
Will bless the king: and is not this course
pious?

Cham. Heaven keep me from such counsell 'tis most true,

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The king hath sent me other-where
You'll find a most unfit time to disturb him:
Health to your lordships.

Nor. Thanks, my good lord chamberlain.
[Exit Lord CHAMBERLAIN.

NORFOLK opens a folding door. The KING is
discovered sitting, and reading pensively.
Suf. How sad he looks! sure, he is much af-
flicted.

K. Hen. Who is there? ha?

Nor. 'Pray God he be not angry.

I mean, the learned ones, in Christian kingdoms, Have their free voices; Rome, the nurse of judgment,

Invited by your noble self, hath sent

One general tongue unto us, this good man,
This just and learned priest, cardinal Cam-
peius;

Whom, once more, I present unto your high

ness.

K. Hen. And, once more, in mine arms I bid him welcome,

And thank the holy conclave for their loves; They have sent me such a man I would have wish'd for.

Cam. Your grace must needs deserve all
stranger's loves,

You are so noble: To your highness' hand
I tender my commission; by whose virtue,
(The court of Rome commanding,) you, my lord
Cardinal of York, are join'd with me their ser

vant,

In the unpartial judging of this business.
K. Hen. Two equal men. The queen shall be

acquainted

Forthwith, for what you come :-Where's Gardiner ?

Wol. I know your majesty has always lov'd

her

So dear in heart, not to deny her that
A woman of less place might ask by law,
Scholars, allow'd freely to argue for her.

K. Hen. Ay, and the best, she shall have;
and my favour

To him that does best; God forbid else. Cardinal,

K. Hen. Who's there, I say? How dare you Pr'ythee, call Gardiner to me, my new secretary;

thrust yourselves

Into my private meditations ?

Who am 1? ha?

Nor. A gracious king, that pardons all offences

Malice ne'er meant: our breach of duty, this

way,

Is business of estate; in which, we come
To know your royal pleasure.

K. Hen. You are too bold;

Go to; I'll make ye know your times of business:

Is this an hour for temporal affairs? ha?—

Enter WOLSEY and CAMPEIUS.

Who's there? my good lord cardinal?-O my
Wolsey,

The quiet of my wounded conscience,
Thou art a cure fit for a king.-You're welcome,
[TO CAMPEIUS.
Most learned reverend Sir, into our kingdom;
Use us, and it :-My good lord, have great

care

I be not found a talker.

Wol. Sir, you cannot.

[To WOLSEY.

I would your grace would give us but an hour
Of private conference.

K. Hen. We are busy; go.

[To NORFOLK and SUFFOLK. Nor. This priest has no pride in him! Suf. Not to speak of;

I would not be so sick though, † for

his place:

But this cannot continue.

Nor. If it do,

I'll venture one heave at him.
Suf. I another.

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Cam. Was he not held a learned man?
Wol. Yes, surely.

Cam. Believe me, there's an ill opinion spread
then

Even of yourself, lord cardinal.
Wol. How? of me!

Cam. They will not stick to say, you envied
him;

And, fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous, Kept him a foreign man still; which so griev'd him,

That he ran mad, and died.

Wol. Heaven's peace be with him!
That's Christian care enough: for living mur-
murers,

There's places of rebuke. He was a fool;
For he would needs be virtuous: That good
fellow,

Aside. If I command him, follows my appointment;
I will have none so near else. Learn this,
brother,

[Exeunt NORFOLK and SUFFOLK. Wol. Your grace has given a precedent of wisdom

High or low.

† So sick as he is proud.

I We live not to be grip'd by meaner persons.
K. Hen. Deliver this with modesty to the
queen.
[Exit GARDINER.
The most convenient place that I can think of
For such receipt of learning, is Black-Friars ;

Out of the king's presence.

There ye shall meet about this weighty busi

ness:

My Wolsey, see it furnish'd.-O my lord,
Would it not grieve an able man, to leave

So sweet a bedfellow? But, conscience, conscience,

Oh! 'tis a tender place, and I must leave her. [Excunt.

SCENE III.-An Ante-chamber in the QUEEN'S Apartments.

Enter ANNE BULLEN, and an old LADY. Anne. Not for that neither ;-Here's the pang that pinches :

His highness having liv'd so long with her: and she

So good a lady, that no tongue could ever
Pronounce dishonour of her,-by my life,
She never knew harm-doing:-0 now, after
So many courses of the sun enthron'd,
Still growing in a majesty and pomp,-the
which

To leave is a thousand-fold more bitter, than
'Tis sweet at first to acquire,-after this pro-
cess,

To give her the avaunt! it is a pity

Would move a monster.

Old L. Hearts of most hard temper

Melt and lament for her.

Anne. O God's will! much better,

Old L. In faith, for little England You'd venture an emballing: I myself Would for Carnarvoasbire, although there 'long'd No more to the crown but that. Lo, who comes here ?

Enter the Lord CHAMBERLAIN. Cham. Good morrow, ladies. What wer't worth to know

The secret of your conference ?

Anne. My good lord,

Not your demand; it values not your asking
Our mistress' sorrows we were pitying.

Cham. It was a gentle business, and becoming

The action of good women: there is hope,
All will be well.

Anne. Now I pray God, amen!

Cham. You bear a gentle mind, and heavenly blessings

Follow such creatures. That you may, fair lady,
Perceive I speak sincerely, and high note's
Ta'en of your many virtues, the king's majesty
Commends his good opinion to you, and
Does purpose honour to you no less flowing
Than marchioness of Pembroke; to which title
A thousand pound a year, annual support,
Out of his grace he adds.

Anne. I do not know,

What kind of my obedience I should tender; More than my all is nothing: nor my prayers

She ne'er had known pomp: though it be tem- Are not words duly hallow'd, nor my wishes

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More worth than empty vanities; yet prayers, aud

wishes,

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yet,

But from this lady may proceed a gem,
To lighten all this isle ?—I'll to the king,
And say, I spoke with you.
Anne. My honour'd lord.

[Exit Lord CHAMBERLAIN Old L. Why, this it is; see, see!

I have been begging sixteen years in court,
(Am yet a courtier beggarly, nor could
Come pat betwixt too early and too late,
For any suit of pounds: and you, (O fate!)
A very fresh-fish here, (file, fie upon

This compell'd fortune 1) have your mouth fill'd up,

Before you open it.

Anne. This is strange to me.

Old. L. How tastes it? is it bitter? fortypence, no.

There was a lady once, ('tis an old story,)

Anne. No, not for all the riches under hea-That

ven.

Old L. 'Tis strange; a three-pence bow'd ** would hire me,

Old as I am, to queen it; But, I pray you, What think you of a duchess ? have you limbs To bear that load of title?

Anne. No, in truth.

would not be a queen, that would she not, [it f For all the mud in Egypt :-Have you heard Anne. Come, you are pleasant. Old. L. With your theme, I could O'ermount the lark. The marchioness of Pem

broke !

A thousand pounds a year! for pure respect;

Old L. Then you are weakly made: Pluck off No other obligation: By my life,

a little ;

I would not be a young count in your way,
For more than blushing comes to: if your back
Cannot vouchsafe this burden, 'tis too weak
Ever to get a boy.

Anne. How you do talk!

swear again, I would not be a queen

For all the world.

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The queen is comfortless, and we forgetful
In our long absence: Pray, do not deliver
What here you have heard, to her.
Old. L. What do you think me?

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-A Hall in Black-friars.

Trumpets, sennet,⚫ and cornets. Enter two VERGERS, with short silver wands; next them, two SCRIBES, in the habits of doctors; after them, the Archbishop of CANTERBURY alone: after him, the Bishops of LINCOLN, ELY, ROCHESTER, and SAINT ASAPH; next them, with some small distance, follows a Gentleman bearing the purse, with the great seal, and a cardinal's hat; then two Priests, bearing each a silver cross; then a Gentleman-Usher bare-headed, accompanied with a Sergeant at Arms, bearing a silver mace; then two Gentle men, bearing two great silver pillars; after them, side by side, the two Cardinals WOLSEY and CAMPEIUS; two noblemen with the sword and mace. Then enter the KING and QUEEN, and their Trains. The King takes place under the cloth of state; the two Cardinals sit under him as judges. The Queen takes place at some distance from the King. The Bishops place themselves on each side the court, in manner of a consistory; between them, the Scribes. The Lords sit next the Bishops. The Crier and the rest of the Attendants stand in convenient order about the stage. Wol. Whilst our commission from Rome is read

Let silence be commanded.

K. Hen. What's the need?

It hath already publicly been read,

And on all sides the authority allow'd;

You may then spare that time.

Wol. Be't so :-Proceed.

Upward of twenty years, and have been bless'd
With many children by you: If, in the course
And process of this time, you can report,
And prove it too, against mine honour aught,
My bond to wedlock, or my love and duty,
Against your sacred person, in God's name,
Shut door upon me, and so give me up
Turn me away; and let the foul'st contempt
To the sharpest kind of justice.
Please you,

Sir,

Fer

The king, your father, was reputed for
A prince most prudent, of an excellent
And
unmatch'd wit and judgment:
My father, king of Spain, was reckon'd one
dinand,
The wisest prince, that there had reign'd by
A year before: It is not to be question'd
many
That they had gather'd a wise council to them
of every realm, that did debate this business,
Who deem'd our marriage lawful: Wherefore
Beseech you, Sir, to spare me till I may
I humbly
Be by my friends in Spain advis'd; whose

counsel

I will implore: if not; i'the name of God,
Your pleasure be fulfill'd!

(And of your choice,) these reverend fathers;
Wol. You have here, lady,
[men
Of singular integrity and learning,
Yea, the elect of the land, who are assembled
To plead your cause: It shall be therefore
bootless,

That longer you desire the court; as well
For your own quiet, as to rectify
What is unsettled in the king.

Cam. His grace

[dam,

Hath spoken well and justly; Therefore, ma-
It's fit this royal session do proceed;

And that without delay, their arguments

Be now produc'd, and heard.
Q. Kath. Lord cardinal,—

Scribe. Say, Henry king of England, come To you I speak.

into the court.

Crier. Henry king of England, &c.

K. Hen. Here.

Scribe. Say, Katharine queen of England, come into court.

Crier. Katharine queen of England, &c. [The QUEEN makes no answer, rises out of her chair, goes about the court, comes to the KING, and kneels at his feet; then speaks.] Q. Kath. Sir, I desire you, do me right and justice;

And to bestow your pity on me : for

I am a most poor woman, and a stranger,
Born out of your dominions; having here
No judge indifferent, nor no more assurance
Of equal friendship and proceeding.

Sir,

Alas,

In what have I offended you? what cause
Hath my behaviour given to your displeasure,
That thus you should proceed to put me off,
And take your good grace from me? Heaven

witness,

I have been to you a true and humble wife,

At all times to your will conformable:

Ever in fear to kindle your dislike,

Wol. Your pleasure, madam
Q. Kath. Sir,

I am about to weep; but, thinking that
We are a queen, (or long have dream'd so,)
certain,

The daughter of a king, my drops of tears
I'll turn to sparks of fire.
. Wol. Be patient yet.

Q. Kath. I will, when you are humble; nay,
before,

Or God will punish me. I do believe,
Induc'd by potent circumstances, that
You are mine enemy; and make my challenge:
You shall not be my judge; for it is you

Have blown this coal betwixt my lord and
me,-

Which God's dew quench-Therefore, I say again,

1 utterly abhor, yea, from my soul,

Refuse you for my judge; whom, yet once

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You speak not like yourself; who ever yet

Yea, subject to your countenance; glad, or Have stood to charity, and display'd the effects

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