The Plays of William Shakespeare

568

No doubt he will requite it.

And generally; whoever the king favours,
The cardinal instantly will find employment,
And far enough from court too.

2 Gen.

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 Buck-
ingham,

The mirror of all courtesy ;

Stay there, sir,. 1 Gen. And see the noble ruin'd man you speak of.

Enter Buckingham from his arraignment; Tipstaves before him; the Axe with the edge towards him; Halberds on each side: with him, Sir Thomas Lovell, Sir Nicholas Vaux, Sir William Sands, and common People.

2 Gen. Let's stand close, and behold him.
Buck.

All good people,
You that thus far have come to pity me,
Hear what I say, and then go home and lose me.
I have this day receiv'd a traitor's judgement,
And by that name must die; Yet, heaven bear witness,
And if I have a conscience, let it sink me,
Even as the axe falls, if I be not faithful!
The law I bear no malice for my death,
It has done, upon the premises, but justice:

But those, that sought it, I could wish more christians:
Be what they will, I heartily forgive them:
Yet let them look, they glory not in mischief,
Nor build their evils on the graves of great men;
For then my guiltless blood must cry against them.
For further life in this world I ne'er hope,
Nor will I sue, although the king have mercies
More than I dare make faults. You few that lov'd me,
And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham,
His noble friends, and fellows, whom to leave
Is only bitter to him, only dying,

Go with me, like good angels, to my end;

And, as the long divorce of steel falls on me,

Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice,

And lift my soul to heaven.-Lead on, o'God's name.
Lov. I do beseech your grace, for charity,

If ever any malice in your heart

Were hid against me, now to forgive me frankly.
Buck. Sir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive you,
As I would be forgiven: I forgive all ;
There cannot be those numbericss offences
'Gainst me, I can't take peace with: no black envy
Shall make my grave.-Commend me to his grace;
And, if he speak of Buckingham, pray, tell him,
You met him half in heaven: my vows and prayers

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,
And without trial fell; God's peace be with him!
Henry the seventh succeeding, truly pitying
My father's loss, like a most royal prince,
Restor'd me to my 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 counsels,
Be sure, you be not loose; for those you make friends,
And give your hearts to, when they once perceive
The least rub in your fortunes, fall away
Like water from ye, never found again,

But where they mean to sink ye. All good people,
Pray for me! I must now forsake ye; the last hour
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 Gen. O, this is full of pity !—Sir, it calls,
I fear, too many curses on their heads,
That were the authors.

2 Gen.

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 Gen.
Good angels keep it from us!
Where may it be? You do not doubt my faith, sir?
2 Gen. This secret is so weighty, 'twill require
A strong faith to conceal it.

1 Gen.

I do not talk much.

2 Gen.

Let me have it;

I am confident;

You shall, sir; Did you not of late days hear
A buzzing, of a separation

Between the king and Katharine?

1 Gen. Yes, but it held not ;

SCENE II-An Ante-chamber in the Palace. 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.

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 himself else.
Nor. How holly 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 scatters
Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience,
Fears, and despairs, and all these for his marriage:
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 him 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 counsel! "Tis

most true,

These news are every where; every tongue speaks

them,

And every true heart weeps for't: All, that dare
Look into these affairs, see this main end,-
The French king's sister. Heaven will one day open
The king's eyes, that so long have slept upon
This bold bad man.

Nor. We had need pray,

And heartily, for our deliverance;
Or this imperious man will work us all
From princes into pages: all men's honours
Lie in one lump before him, to be fashion'd
Into what pitch he please.

Suf.

For me, my lords,

I love him not, nor fear him; there's my creed:
As I am made without him, so I'll stand,

If the king please; his curses and his blessings
Touch me alike, they are breath I not believe in.
I knew him, and I know him; so I leave him
To him that made him proud, the pope.

Nor.
Let's in;
And, with some other business, put the king
From these sad thoughts, that work too much upon
bim:

-My lord, you'll bear us company?

Cham.

Excuse me;

The king hath sent me other-where: besides

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 afflicted. K. Hen. Who is there? ha?

Nor.

'Pray God, he be not angry.

K. Hen. Who's there, I say? how dare you thrust

yourselves

Into my private meditations?

Who am I? 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,

I'll venture one heave at him.
Suf.

[Aside. The most convenient place that I can think of,
I another. [Aside. For such receipt of learning, is Black-Friars:
[Exeunt Norfolk and Suffolk. There ye shall meet about this weighty business :—-
Wol. Your grace has given a precedent of wisdom My Wolsey, see it furnish'd.-O my lord,
Above all princes, in committing freely
Would it not grieve an able man, to leave
Your scruple to the voice of Christendom:
So sweet a bed-fellow? But, conscience, conscience,-
Who can be angry now? what envy reach you?' O, 'tis a tender place, and I must leave her. [Exeunt.
The Spaniard, tied by blood and favour to her,
Must now confess, if they have any goodness,
The trial just and noble. All the clerks,

I mean, the learned ones, in christian kingdoms,
Have their free voices; Rome, the nurse of judgement,
Invited by your noble self, hath sent

One general tongue unto us, this good man,
This just and learned priest, cardinal Campeius;
Whom, once more, I present unto your highness.
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 strangers'
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 joined with me their servant,
In the unpartial judging of this business.

K. Hen. Two equal men. The queen shall be ac-
quainted

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,
Pr'ythee, call Gardiner to me, my new secretary;
I find him a fit fellow.
[Exit Wolsey.

Re-enter Wolsey, with Gardiner.

Wol. Give me your hand: much joy and favour to

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 murmurers,
There's places of rebuke. He was a fool;
For he would needs be virtuous: That good fellow,
If I command him, follows my appointment;
I will have none so near else. Learn this, brother,
We live not to be grip'd by meaner persons.

K, Hen. Deliver this with modesty to the queen.
[Eait Gardiner.

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:-O 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 process,
To give her the avaunt! it is a pity
Would move a monster.

Old L.

Melt and lament for her.

Anne.

Hearts of most hard temper

O, God's will! much better,
She ne'er had known pomp: though it be temporal,
Yet, if that quarrel, fortune, do divorce

It from the bearer, it is a sufferance, panging
As soul and body's severing.

Old L.

She's a stranger now again.

Anne.

Must pity drop upon her.

Alas, poor lady!

So much the more

Verily,

swear, 'tis better to be lowly born,

And range with humble livers in content,

Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief,
And wear a golden sorrow.

Old. L.

Beshrew me, I would,

And venture maidenhead for't; and so would you.
For all this spice of your hypocrisy :

You, that have so fair parts of woman on you,
Have too a woman's heart; which ever yet
Affected eminence, wealth, sovereignty;
Which, to say sooth, are blessings: and which gifts
(Saving your mincing) the capacity

Of your soft cheveril conscience would receive,
If you might please to stretch it.

Anne.
Nay, good troth,--
Old L. Yes, troth, and troth,-You would not be a
queen?

Anne. No, not for all the riches under heaven.
Old L. "Tis" strange; a three-pence bowed would

That they have caught the king: and who knows 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, (fye, fye, upon This compell'd fortune !) have your mouth fill'd up, Before you open it.

Anne.

This is strange to me.

Old L. How tastes it? is it bitter? forty pence, no. There was a lady once, ('tis an old story,) That would not be a queen, that would she not, For all the mud in Egypt :-Have you heard it? Anne. Come, you are pleasant.

Old L.
With your theme, I could
O'ermount the lark. The marchioness of Pembroke!
A thousand pounds a year! for pure respect;
No other obligation: By my life,

That promises more thousands: Honour's train
Is longer than his fore-skirt. By this time,

I know, your back will bear a duchess ;-Say,
Are you not stronger than you were?
Anne.

Good lady,
Make yourself mirth with your particular fancy,

SCENE IV-A Hall in Black-Fryars. 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 Gentlemen, 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.

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. Alas, sir,
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,

Yea, subject to your countenance; glad, or sorry,
As I saw it inclin'd. When was the hour,

I ever contradicted your desire,

Or made it not mine too? Or which of your friends
Have I not strove to love, although I knew
He were mine enemy? what friend of mine,
That had to him deriv'd your anger, did I
Continue in my liking? nay, gave notice
He was from thence discharg'd? Sir, call to mind,

That I have been your wife, in this obedience,
Upward of twenty years, and have been blest
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,
Turn me away; and let the foul'st contempt
Shut door upon me, and so give me up
To the sharpest kind of justice. Please you, sir,
The king, your father, was reputed for
A prince most prudent, of an excellent
And unmatch'd wit and judgement: Ferdinand,
My father, king of Spain, was reckon❜d one

The wisest prince, that there had reign'd by many
A year before: It is not to be question'd
That they had gather'd a wise counsel to them
Of every realm, that did debate this business,

Who deem'd our marriage lawful: Wherefore I humbly

Beseech you, sir, to spare me, till I may

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!

Wol.

You have here, lady,

Wol.

Be patient yet.

That I gainsay my deed, how may he wound,
And worthily, my falsehood? yea, as much
But if he know
As you have done my truth
That I am free of your report, he knows,
I am not of your wrong. Therefore in him
It lies, to cure me: and the cure is, to
Remove these thoughts from you: The which before
His highness shall speak in, I do beseech
You, gracious madam, to unthink your speaking,
And to say so no more.

Q. Kath.

My lord, my lord,

I am a simple woman, much too weak
To oppose your cunning. You are meek, and humble-
mouth'd;

You sign your place and calling, in full seeming,
With meekness and humility; but your heart
Is cramm'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride.
You have, by fortune, and his highness' favours,
Gone slightly o'er low steps; and now are mounted
Where powers are your retainers: and your words,
Domestics to you, serve your will, as't please
Yourself pronounce their office. I must tell you,
You tender more your person's honour, than
Your high profession spiritual: That again
I do refuse you for my judge; and here,
Before you all, appeal unto the pope,
To bring my whole cause 'fore his holiness,
And to be judg'd by him.

[She curt'sies to the king, and offers to depart
Cam.
The queen is obstinate,
Stubborn to justice, apt to accuse it, and
Disdainful to be tried by it; tis not well.
She's going away.

K. Hen.

Call her again.

Crier. Katharine, queen of England, come into the

When you are call'd, return. Now the Lord help,
They vex me past my patience!-pray you, pass on:
I will not tarry: no, nor ever more,

Upon this business, my appearance make
In any of their courts.

[Exe. Queen, Griffith, and her other Attendants.
Go thy ways, Kate:

K. Hen.

Q. Kath. I will, when you are humble; nay, before, That man i' the world, who shall report he has

Or God will punish me. I do believe,

Induc'd by potent circumstances, that

A better wife, let him in nought be trusted,
For speaking false in that: Thou art, alone,
(If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness,
Thy meekness saint-like, wife-like government,-
Obeying in commanding,-and thy parts
Sovereign and pious else, could speak thee out)
The queen of earthly queens :-She is noble born;
And, like her true nobility, she has
Carried herself towards me.

Wol.

Most gracious sir,

In humblest manner I require your highness,
That it shall please you to declare, in hearing
Of all these cars, (for where I am robb'd and bound,
There must I be unloos'd: although not there
At once and fully satisfied,) whether ever I
Did broach this business to your highness; or
Laid any scruple in your way, which might
Induce you to the question on't? or ever
Have to you, but with thanks to God for such
A royal lady,-spake one the least word, might
Be to the prejudice of her present state,
Or touch of her good person?
My lord cardinal,

K. Hen.

« Anterior Continuar »

Livros

The Plays of William Shakespeare, Volume 1