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 swallow'd so much treasure, and like a glass
Did break i' the rinsing.

Nor.

Faith, and so it did.

Has done this, and 'tis well; for worthy Wolsey,
Who cannot err, he did it. Now this follows,
(Which, as I take it, is a kind of puppy
To the old dam, treason,) Charles the emperor,
Under pretence to see the queen, his aunt,
(For 'twas, indeed, his colour, but he came
To whisper Wolsey,) here makes visitation:
His fears were, that the interview betwixt
England and France, might, through their amity,
Breed him some prejudice; for from this league,
Peep'd harms that menac'd him. He privily
Deals with our cardinal, and, as I trow,
Which I do well; for, I am sure, the emperor
Paid ere he promis'd, whereby his suit was

granted,

Ere it was ask'd: but when the way was made, And pav'd with gold, the emperor thus desir'd:That he would please to alter the king's course, And break the foresaid peace. Let the king know,

To plead mine innocence; for that die is on me, Which makes my whit'st part black.

heaven

The will of

Be done in this and all things.-I obey.

O! my lord Aberga'ny, fare you well.
Bran. Nay, he must bear you company.-The
To ABERGAVENNY.
Is pleas'd you shall to the Tower, till you know
How he determines further.

king

Aber. As the duke said, The will of heaven be done, and the king's pleasure By me obey'd.

Bran..

Here is a warrant from

hope.

Buck. My surveyor is false: the o'er-great car

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

SCENE II.-The Council-Chamber. Cornets. Enter King HENRY, Cardinal WOLSEY, the Lords of the Council, Sir THOMAS LOVELL, Officers, Attendants. The King enters leaning on the Cardinal's shoulder.

K. Hen. My life itself, and the best heart of it, Thanks you for this great care. I stood i' the

level

Of a full charg'd confederacy, and give thanks
To
you that chok'd it.-Let be call'd before us
That gentleman of Buckingham's: in person
I'll hear him his confessions justify,

And point by point the treasons of his master
He shall again relate.

In tempting of your patience; but am bolden'd
Under your promis'd pardon. The subjects' grief
Comes through commissions, which compel from
each

The sixth part of his substance, to be levied
Without delay; and the pretence for this

Is nam'd, your wars in France. 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.

K. Hen.

By my life,

And for me,

I have no further gone in this, than by

A single voice, and that not pass'd me but
By learned approbation of the judges. If I am
Traduc'd by ignorant tongues, which neither know
My faculties, nor person, yet will be
The chronicles of my doing, let me say,
'Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brake
That virtue must go through. We must not stint
Our necessary actions, in the fear

To cope malicious censurers; which ever,
As ravenous fishes, do a vessel follow
That is new trimm'd, but benefit no further
Than vainly longing. What we oft do best,
By sick interpreters (once weak ones) is
Not ours, or not allow'd; what worst, as oft,
Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up
For our best act. If we shall stand still,
In fear our motion will be mock'd or carp'd at,
We should take root here, where we sit, or sit
State statues only.

And with a care, exempt themselves from fear:
Things done without example, in their issue
Are to be fear'd. Have you a precedent
Of this commission? I believe, not any.
We must not rend our subjects from our laws,
And stick them in our will. Sixth part of each ?
A trembling contribution! Why, we take,
From every tree, lop, bark, and part o' the timber:
And, though we leave it with a root, thus hack'd,
The air will drink the sap. To every county
Where this is question'd send our letters, with
Free pardon to each man that has denied
The force of this commission. Pray, look to't;
I put it to your care.
Wol.
A word with you.

[To the Secretary. Let there be letters writ to every shire, Of the king's grace and pardon. The griev'd com

mons

Hardly conceive of me: let it be nois'd,
That through our intercession this revokement
And pardon comes. I shall anon advise you
Further in the proceeding. [Exit Secretary.

Enter Surveyor.

Q. Kath. I am sorry that the duke of Buckingham

Is run in your displeasure.

K. Hen. It grieves many : The gentleman is learn'd, and a most rare speaker; To nature none more bound; his training such, That he may furnish and instruct great teachers,

And never seek for aid out of himself: yet see,
When these so noble benefits shall prove
Not well dispos'd, the mind growing once corrupt,
They turn to vicious forms, ten times more ugly
Than ever they were fair. This man so complete,
Who was enroll'd 'mongst wonders, and when we,
Almost with ravish'd list'ning, could not find
His hour of speech a minute; he, my lady,
Hath into monstrous habits put the graces
That once were his, and is become as black

As if besmear'd in hell. Sit by us; you shall hear
(This was his gentleman in trust) of him,
Things to strike honour sad.-Bid him recount
The fore-recited practices, whereof
We cannot feel too little, hear too much.

Wol. Stand forth; and with bold spirit relate what you,

Most like a careful subject, have collected
Out of the duke of Buckingham.

The duke being at the Rose, within the parish
Saint Lawrence Poultney, did of me demand
What was the speech among the Londoners
Concerning the French journey? I replied,
Men fear'd the French would prove perfidious,
To the king's danger. Presently the duke
Said, 'twas the fear, indeed; and that he doubted,
'Twould prove the verity of certain words
Spoke by a holy monk; "that oft," says he,
Hath sent to me, wishing me to permit
John de la Car, my chaplain, a choice hour

16

K. Hen.

Go forward. Surv.

Let him on.

On my soul, I'll speak but truth.

I told my lord the duke, by the devil's illusions The monk might be deceiv'd; and that 'twas dangerous for him,

To ruminate on this so far, until

It forg'd him some design, which, being believ'd,
It was much like to do: He answer'd, "Tush!
It can do me no damage:" adding further,
That had the king in his last sickness fail'd,
The cardinal's and sir Thomas Lovell's heads
Should have gone off.

K. Hen.
Ha! what, so rank? Ah, ha!
There's mischief in this man.-Canst thou say
further?

Of such a time: being my sworn servant,
The duke retain'd him his.-But on: what hence?
Surv. "If," quoth he, "I for this had been com-
mitted,

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

K. Hen.

A giant traitor!

SCENE III-A Room in the Palace.

Enter the Lord Chamberlain, and Lord SANDS. Cham. 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 follow'd.
Cham. As far as I see, all the good our English
Have got by the late voyage is but merely

A fit or two o' the face; but they are shrewd

ones,

For when they hold 'em, you would swear directly, Their very noses had been counsellors

To Pepin or Clotharius, they keep state so.
Sands. They have all new legs, and lame ones:
one would take it,

That never saw 'em pace before, the spavin
And springhalt reign'd among them.

Cham.

Death! my lord,

Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too, That, sure, they've worn out Christendom. How now?

What news, sir Thomas Lovell?

Lov. The reformation of our travell'd gallants, That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors. Cham. I am glad 'tis there: now, I would pray

our monsieurs

To think an English courtier may be wise,
And never see the Louvre.

Lov.
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 blister'd breeches, and those types of travel,
And understand again like honest men,

Or pack to their old playfellows: there, I take it, They may, cum privilegio, wear away

The lag-end of their lewdness, and be laugh'd at. Sands. 'Tis time to give 'em physic, their dis

eases

Are grown so catching.

Cham.

Will have of these trim vanities.

Lov.

What a loss our ladies

Ay, marry,

There will be woe indeed, lords: the sly whore

Hautboys. A small table under a state for the Cardinal, a longer table for the Guests; then enter ANNE BULLEN, and divers Lords, Ladies, and Gentlewomen, as Guests, at one door; at another door, enter Sir HENRY GUILDFORD.

Guild. Ladies, a general welcome from his grace Salutes ye all: this night he dedicates To fair content, and you. None here, he hopes, In all this noble bevy, has brought with her One care abroad: he would have all as merry As first, good company, good wine, good welcome Can make good people.-O, my lord! y'are tardy;

Enter Lord Chamberlain, Lord SANDS, and Sn
THOMAS LOVEll.

The very thought of this fair company
Clapp'd wings to me.

Cham. You are young, sir Harry Guildford.
Sands. Sir Thomas Lovell, had the cardinal
But half my lay-thoughts in him, some of these
Should find a running banquet ere they rested,
I think, would better please 'em: by my life,
They are a sweet society of fair ones.

Lov. O! that your lordship were but now confessor

To one or two of these.

Sands.
I would, I were;
They should find easy penance.
Lov.

Faith, how easy? Sands. As easy as a down-bed would afford it. Cham. Sweet ladies, will it please you sit? Sir Harry,