Ghost. When I was mortall, my Annointed bodyBy thee was punched full of holes;Thinke on the Tower, and me: Dispaire, and dye,Harry the sixt, bids thee dispaire, and dye.
To Richm[ond].
Vertuous and holy be thou Conqueror:Harry that prophesied thou should'st be King,Doth comfort thee in sleepe: Liue, and flourish.Enter the Ghost of Clarence.
Ghost. Let me sit heauy in thy soule to morrow.I that was wash'd to death with Fulsome Wine:Poore Clarence by thy guile betray'd to death:To morrow in the battell thinke on me,And fall thy edgelesse Sword, dispaire and dye.
To Richm[ond].
Thou off-spring of the house of LancasterThe wronged heyres of Yorke do pray for thee,Good Angels guard thy battell, Liue and Flourish.Enter the Ghosts of Riuers, Gray, and Vaughan.
Riu. Let me sit heauy in thy soule to morrow,Riuers, that dy'de at Pomfret: dispaire, and dye
Grey. Thinke vpon Grey, and let thy soule dispaire
Vaugh. Thinke vpon Vaughan, and with guilty feareLet fall thy Lance, dispaire and dye.
All to Richm[ond].
Awake,And thinke our wrongs in Richards Bosome,Will conquer him. Awake, and win the day.Enter the Ghost of Lord Hastings.
Gho. Bloody and guilty: guiltily awake,And in a bloody Battell end thy dayes.Thinke on Lord Hastings: dispaire, and dye.
Hast. to Rich[ard].
Quiet vntroubled soule,Awake, awake:Arme, fight, and conquer, for faire Englands sake.Enter the Ghosts of the two yong Princes.
Ghosts. Dreame on thy CousinsSmothered in the Tower:Let vs be laid within thy bosome Richard,And weigh thee downe to ruine, shame, and death,Thy Nephewes soule bids thee dispaire and dye.
Ghosts to Richm[ond].
Sleepe Richmond,Sleepe in Peace, and wake in Ioy,Good Angels guard thee from the Boares annoy,Liue, and beget a happy race of Kings,Edwards vnhappy Sonnes, do bid thee flourish.
Enter the Ghost of Anne, his Wife.
Ghost to Rich[ard].
Richard, thy Wife,That wretched Anne thy Wife,That neuer slept a quiet houre with thee,Now filles thy sleepe with perturbations,To morrow in the Battaile, thinke on me,And fall thy edgelesse Sword, dispaire and dye:
Ghost to Richm[ond].
Thou quiet soule,Sleepe thou a quiet sleepe:Dreame of Successe, and Happy Victory,Thy Aduersaries Wife doth pray for thee.Enter the Ghost of Buckingham.
Ghost to Rich[ard].
The first was IThat help'd thee to the Crowne:That last was I that felt thy Tyranny.O, in the Battaile think on Buckingham,And dye in terror of thy guiltinesse.Dreame on, dreame on, of bloody deeds and death,Fainting dispaire; dispairing yeeld thy breath.
Ghost to Richm[ond].
I dyed for hopeEre I could lend thee Ayde;But cheere thy heart, and be thou not dismayde:God, and good Angels fight on Richmonds side,And Richard fall in height of all his pride.
Richard starts out of his dreame.
Rich. Giue me another Horse, bind vp my Wounds:Haue mercy Iesu. Soft, I did but dreame.O coward Conscience? how dost thou afflict me?The Lights burne blew. It is not dead midnight.Cold fearefull drops stand on my trembling flesh.What? do I feare my Selfe? There's none else by,Richard loues Richard, that is, I am I.Is there a Murtherer heere? No; Yes, I am:Then flye; What from my Selfe? Great reason: why?Lest I Reuenge. What? my Selfe vpon my Selfe?Alacke, I loue my Selfe. Wherefore? For any goodThat I my Selfe, haue done vnto my Selfe?O no. Alas, I rather hate my Selfe,For hatefull Deeds committed by my Selfe.I am a Villaine: yet I Lye, I am not.Foole, of thy Selfe speake well: Foole, do not flatter.My Conscience hath a thousand seuerall Tongues,And euery Tongue brings in a seuerall Tale,And euerie Tale condemnes me for a Villaine;Periurie, in the high'st Degree,Murther, sterne murther, in the dyr'st degree,All seuerall sinnes, all vs'd in each degree,Throng all to'th' Barre, crying all, Guilty, Guilty.I shall dispaire, there is no Creature loues me;And if I die, no soule shall pittie me.Nay, wherefore should they? Since that I my Selfe,Finde in my Selfe, no pittie to my Selfe.Me thought, the Soules of all that I had murther'dCame to my Tent, and euery one did threatTo morrowes vengeance on the head of Richard.Enter Ratcliffe.
Rat. My Lord
King. Who's there?Rat. Ratcliffe, my Lord, 'tis I: the early Village CockHath twice done salutation to the Morne,Your Friends are vp, and buckle on their Armour
King. O Ratcliffe, I feare, I feare
Rat. Nay good my Lord, be not affraid of Shadows
King. By the Apostle Paul, shadowes to nightHaue stroke more terror to the soule of Richard,Then can the substance of ten thousand SouldiersArmed in proofe, and led by shallow Richmond.'Tis not yet neere day. Come go with me,Vnder our Tents Ile play the Ease-dropper,To heare if any meane to shrinke from me.
Exeunt. Richard & Ratliffe,
Enter the Lords to Richmond sitting in his Tent.
Richm. Good morrow Richmond
Rich. Cry mercy Lords, and watchfull Gentlemen,That you haue tane a tardie sluggard heere?Lords. How haue you slept my Lord?Rich. The sweetest sleepe,And fairest boading Dreames,That euer entred in a drowsie head,Haue I since your departure had my Lords.Me thought their Soules, whose bodies Rich[ard]. murther'd,Came to my Tent, and cried on Victory:I promise you my Heart is very iocond,In the remembrance of so faire a dreame,How farre into the Morning is it Lords?Lor. Vpon the stroke of foure
Rich. Why then 'tis time to Arme, and giue direction.
His Oration to his Souldiers.
More then I haue said, louing Countrymen,The leysure and inforcement of the timeForbids to dwell vpon: yet remember this,God, and our good cause, fight vpon our side,The Prayers of holy Saints and wronged soules,Like high rear'd Bulwarkes, stand before our Faces,(Richard except) those whom we fight against,Had rather haue vs win, then him they follow.For, what is he they follow? Truly Gentlemen,A bloudy Tyrant, and a Homicide:One rais'd in blood, and one in blood establish'd;One that made meanes to come by what he hath,And slaughter'd those that were the meanes to help him:A base foule Stone, made precious by the soyleOf Englands Chaire, where he is falsely set:One that hath euer beene Gods Enemy.Then if you fight against Gods Enemy,God will in iustice ward you as his Soldiers.If you do sweare to put a Tyrant downe,You sleepe in peace, the Tyrant being slaine:If you do fight against your Countries Foes,Your Countries Fat shall pay your paines the hyre.If you do fight in safegard of your wiues,Your wiues shall welcome home the Conquerors.If you do free your Children from the Sword,Your Childrens Children quits it in your Age.Then in the name of God and all these rights,Aduance your Standards, draw your willing Swords.For me, the ransome of my bold attempt,Shall be this cold Corpes on the earth's cold face.But if I thriue, the gaine of my attempt,The least of you shall share his part thereof.Sound Drummes and Trumpets boldly, and cheerefully,God, and Saint George, Richmond, and Victory.Enter King Richard, Ratcliffe, and Catesby.
K. What said Northumberland as touching Richmond?Rat. That he was neuer trained vp in Armes
King. He said the truth: and what said Surrey then?Rat. He smil'd and said, the better for our purpose
King. He was in the right, and so indeed it is.Tell the clocke there.
Clocke strikes.
Giue me a Kalender: Who saw the Sunne to day?Rat. Not I my Lord
King. Then he disdaines to shine: for by the BookeHe should haue brau'd the East an houre ago,A blacke day will it be to somebody. Ratcliffe
Rat. My Lord
King. The Sun will not be seene to day,The sky doth frowne, and lowre vpon our Army.I would these dewy teares were from the ground.Not shine to day? Why, what is that to meMore then to Richmond? For the selfe-same HeauenThat frownes on me, lookes sadly vpon him.Enter Norfolke.
Nor. Arme, arme, my Lord: the foe vaunts in the field
King. Come, bustle, bustle. Caparison my horse.Call vp Lord Stanley, bid him bring his power,I will leade forth my Soldiers to the plaine,And thus my Battell shal be ordred.My Foreward shall be drawne in length,Consisting equally of Horse and Foot:Our Archers shall be placed in the mid'st;Iohn Duke of Norfolke, Thomas Earle of Surrey,Shall haue the leading of the Foot and Horse.They thus directed, we will followIn the maine Battell, whose puissance on either sideShall be well-winged with our cheefest Horse:This, and Saint George to boote.What think'st thou Norfolke
Nor. A good direction warlike Soueraigne,This found I on my Tent this Morning.Iockey of Norfolke, be not so bold,For Dickon thy maister is bought and sold
King. A thing deuised by the Enemy.Go Gentlemen, euery man to his Charge,Let not our babling Dreames affright our soules:For Conscience is a word that Cowards vse,Deuis'd at first to keepe the strong in awe,Our strong armes be our Conscience, Swords our Law.March on, ioyne brauely, let vs too't pell mell,If not to heauen, then hand in hand to Hell.What shall I say more then I haue inferr'd?Remember whom you are to cope withall,A sort of Vagabonds, Rascals, and Run-awayes,A scum of Brittaines, and base Lackey Pezants,Whom their o're-cloyed Country vomits forthTo desperate Aduentures, and assur'd Destruction.You sleeping safe, they bring you to vnrest:You hauing Lands, and blest with beauteous wiues,They would restraine the one, distaine the other,And who doth leade them, but a paltry Fellow?Long kept in Britaine at our Mothers cost,A Milke-sop, one that neuer in his lifeFelt so much cold, as ouer shooes in Snow:Let's whip these straglers o're the Seas againe,Lash hence these ouer-weening Ragges of France,These famish'd Beggers, weary of their liues,Who (but for dreaming on this fond exploit)For want of meanes (poore Rats) had hang'd themselues.If we be conquered, let men conquer vs,And not these bastard Britaines, whom our FathersHaue in their owne Land beaten, bobb'd, and thump'd,And on Record, left them the heires of shame.Shall these enioy our Lands? lye with our Wiues?Rauish our daughters?
Drum afarre off
Hearke, I heare their Drumme,Right Gentlemen of England, fight boldly yeomen,Draw Archers draw your Arrowes to the head,Spurre your proud Horses hard, and ride in blood,Amaze the welkin with your broken staues.Enter a Messenger.
What sayes Lord Stanley, will he bring his power?Mes. My Lord, he doth deny to come
King. Off with his sonne Georges head
Nor. My Lord, the Enemy is past the Marsh:After the battaile, let George Stanley dye
King. A thousand hearts are great within my bosom.Aduance our Standards, set vpon our Foes,Our Ancient word of Courage, faire S[aint]. GeorgeInspire vs with the spleene of fiery Dragons:Vpon them, Victorie sits on our helpes.
Alarum, excursions. Enter Catesby.
Cat. Rescue my Lord of Norfolke,Rescue, Rescue:The King enacts more wonders then a man,Daring an opposite to euery danger:His horse is slaine, and all on foot he fights,Seeking for Richmond in the throat of death:Rescue faire Lord, or else the day is lost.
Alarums.
Enter Richard.
Rich. A Horse, a Horse, my Kingdome for a Horse
Cates. Withdraw my Lord, Ile helpe you to a HorseRich. Slaue, I haue set my life vpon a cast,And I will stand the hazard of the Dye:I thinke there be sixe Richmonds in the field,Fiue haue I slaine to day, in stead of him.A Horse, a Horse, my Kingdome for a Horse.
Alarum, Enter Richard and Richmond, they fight, Richard is slaine.
Retreat, and Flourish. Enter Richmond, Derby bearing the Crowne, with diuers other Lords.
Richm. God, and your ArmesBe prais'd Victorious Friends;The day is ours, the bloudy Dogge is dead
Der. Couragious Richmond,Well hast thou acquit thee: Loe,Heere these long vsurped Royalties,From the dead Temples of this bloudy Wretch,Haue I pluck'd off, to grace thy Browes withall.Weare it, and make much of it
Richm. Great God of Heauen, say Amen to all.But tell me, is yong George Stanley liuing?Der. He is my Lord, and safe in Leicester Towne,Whither (if you please) we may withdraw vs
Richm. What men of name are slaine on either side?Der. Iohn Duke of Norfolke, Walter Lord Ferris,Sir Robert Brokenbury, and Sir William Brandon
Richm. Interre their Bodies, as become their Births,Proclaime a pardon to the Soldiers fled,That in submission will returne to vs,And then as we haue tane the Sacrament,We will vnite the White Rose, and the Red.Smile Heauen vpon this faire Coniunction,That long haue frown'd vpon their Enmity:What Traitor heares me, and sayes not Amen?England hath long beene mad, and scarr'd her selfe;The Brother blindely shed the Brothers blood;The Father, rashly slaughtered his owne Sonne;The Sonne compell'd, beene Butcher to the Sire;All this diuided Yorke and Lancaster,Diuided, in their dire Diuision.O now, let Richmond and Elizabeth,The true Succeeders of each Royall House,By Gods faire ordinance, conioyne together:And let thy Heires (God if thy will be so)Enrich the time to come, with Smooth-fac'd Peace,With smiling Plenty, and faire Prosperous dayes.Abate the edge of Traitors, Gracious Lord,That would reduce these bloudy dayes againe,And make poore England weepe in Streames of Blood;Let them not liue to taste this Lands increase,That would with Treason, wound this faire Lands peace.Now Ciuill wounds are stopp'd, Peace liues agen;That she may long liue heere, God say, Amen.
Exeunt.
FINIS. The Tragedy of Richard the Third: with the Landing ofEarleRichmond, and the Battell at Bosworth Field.
The Famous History of the Life of King Henry the Eight
I Come no more to make you laugh, Things now,That beare a Weighty, and a Serious Brow,Sad, high, and working, full of State and Woe:Such Noble Scoenes, as draw the Eye to flowWe now present. Those that can Pitty, heereMay (if they thinke it well) let fall a Teare,The Subiect will deserue it. Such as giueTheir Money out of hope they may beleeue,May heere finde Truth too. Those that come to seeOnely a show or two, and so agree,The Play may passe: If they be still, and willing,Ile vndertake may see away their shillingRichly in two short houres. Onely theyThat come to heare a Merry, Bawdy Play,A noyse of Targets: Or to see a FellowIn a long Motley Coate, garded with Yellow,Will be deceyu'd. For gentle Hearers, knowTo ranke our chosen Truth with such a showAs Foole, and Fight is, beside forfeytingOur owne Braines, and the Opinion that we bringTo make that onely true, we now intend,Will leaue vs neuer an vnderstanding Friend.Therefore, for Goodnesse sake, and as you are knowneThe First and Happiest Hearers of the Towne,Be sad, as we would make ye. Thinke ye seeThe very Persons of our Noble Story,As they were Liuing: Thinke you see them Great,And follow'd with the generall throng, and sweatOf thousand Friends: Then, in a moment, seeHow soone this Mightinesse, meets Misery:And if you can be merry then, Ile say,A Man may weepe vpon his Wedding day.
Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.
Enter the Duke of Norfolke at one doore. At the other, the Duke ofBuckingham, and the Lord Aburgauenny.
Buckingham. Good morrow, and well met. How haue ye doneSince last we saw in France?Norf. I thanke your Grace:Healthfull, and euer since a fresh AdmirerOf what I saw there
Buck. An vntimely AgueStaid me a Prisoner in my Chamber, whenThose Sunnes of Glory, those two Lights of MenMet 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 clungIn their Embracement, as they grew together,Which had they,What foure Thron'd ones could haue weigh'dSuch a compounded one?Buck. All the whole timeI was my Chambers Prisoner
Nor. Then you lostThe view of earthly glory: Men might sayTill this time Pompe was single, but now marriedTo one aboue it selfe. Each following dayBecame the next dayes master, till the lastMade former Wonders, it's. To day the French,All Clinquant all in Gold, like Heathen GodsShone downe the English; and to morrow, theyMade Britaine, India: Euery man that stood,Shew'd like a Mine. Their Dwarfish Pages wereAs Cherubins, all gilt: the Madams too,Not vs'd to toyle, did almost sweat to beareThe Pride vpon them, that their very labourWas to them, as a Painting. Now this MaskeWas cry'de incompareable; and th' ensuing nightMade it a Foole, and Begger. The two KingsEquall in lustre, were now best, now worstAs presence did present them: Him in eye,Still him in praise, and being present both,'Twas said they saw but one, and no DiscernerDurst wagge his Tongue in censure, when these Sunnes(For so they phrase 'em) by their Heralds challeng'dThe Noble Spirits to Armes, they did performeBeyond thoughts Compasse, that former fabulous StorieBeing now seene, possible enough, got creditThat Beuis was beleeu'd
Buc. Oh you go farre
Nor. As I belong to worship, and affectIn Honor, Honesty, the tract of eu'ry thing,Would by a good Discourser loose some life,Which Actions selfe, was tongue too
Buc. All was Royall,To the disposing of it nought rebell'd,Order gaue each thing view. The Office didDistinctly his full Function: who did guide,I meane who set the Body, and the LimbesOf this great Sport together?Nor. As you guesse:One certes, that promises no ElementIn such a businesse
Buc. I pray you who, my Lord?Nor. All this was ordred by the good DiscretionOf the right Reuerend Cardinall of Yorke
Buc. The diuell speed him: No mans Pye is freedFrom his Ambitious finger. What had heTo do in these fierce Vanities? I wonder,That such a Keech can with his very bulkeTake 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 graceChalkes Successors their way; nor call'd vponFor high feats done to'th' Crowne; neither AlliedTo eminent Assistants; but Spider-likeOut of his Selfe-drawing Web. O giues vs note,The force of his owne merit makes his wayA guift that heauen giues for him, which buyesA place next to the King
Abur. I cannot tellWhat Heauen hath giuen him: let some Grauer eyePierce into that, but I can see his PridePeepe 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 beginsA new Hell in himselfe
Buc. Why the Diuell,Vpon this French going out, tooke he vpon him(Without the priuity o'th' King) t' appointWho should attend on him? He makes vp the FileOf all the Gentry; for the most part suchTo whom as great a Charge, as little HonorHe meant to lay vpon: and his owne LetterThe Honourable Boord of Councell, outMust fetch him in, he Papers
Abur. I do knowKinsmen of mine, three at the least, that haueBy this, so sicken'd their Estates, that neuerThey shall abound as formerly
Buc. O manyHaue broke their backes with laying Mannors on 'emFor this great Iourney. What did this vanityBut minister communication ofA most poore issue
Nor. Greeuingly I thinke,The Peace betweene the French and vs, not valewesThe Cost that did conclude it
Buc. Euery man,After the hideous storme that follow'd, wasA thing Inspir'd, and not consulting, brokeInto a generall Prophesie; That this TempestDashing the Garment of this Peace, aboadedThe sodaine breach on't
Nor. Which is budded out,For France hath flaw'd the League, and hath attach'dOur Merchants goods at Burdeux
Abur. Is it thereforeTh' Ambassador is silenc'd?Nor. Marry is't
Abur. A proper Title of a Peace, and purchas'dAt a superfluous rate
Buc. Why all this BusinesseOur Reuerend Cardinall carried
Nor. Like it your Grace,The State takes notice of the priuate differenceBetwixt you, and the Cardinall. I aduise you(And take it from a heart, that wishes towards youHonor, and plenteous safety) that you readeThe Cardinals Malice, and his PotencyTogether; To consider further, thatWhat his high Hatred would effect, wants notA Minister in his Power. You know his Nature,That he's Reuengefull; and I know, his SwordHath a sharpe edge: It's long, and't may be saideIt reaches farre, and where 'twill not extend,Thither he darts it. Bosome vp my counsell,You'l finde it wholesome. Loe, where comes that RockThat I aduice your shunning.Enter Cardinall Wolsey, the Purse borne before him, certaine ofthe Guard,and two Secretaries with Papers: The Cardinall in his passage,fixeth hiseye on Buckingham, and Buckingham on him, both full ofdisdaine.
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, & BuckinghamShall lessen this bigge looke.
Exeunt. Cardinall, and his Traine.
Buc. This Butchers Curre is venom'd-mouth'd, and IHaue not the power to muzzle him, therefore bestNot 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 onelyWhich your disease requires
Buc. I read in's looksMatter against me, and his eye reuil'dMe as his abiect obiect, at this instantHe 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 questionWhat 'tis you go about: to climbe steepe hillesRequires slow pace at first. Anger is likeA full hot Horse, who being allow'd his waySelfe-mettle tyres him: Not a man in EnglandCan 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 downeThis Ipswich fellowes insolence; or proclaime,There's difference in no persons
Norf. Be aduis'd;Heat not a Furnace for your foe so hotThat it do sindge your selfe. We may out-runneBy 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 SouleMore 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 alongBy your prescription: but this top-proud fellow,Whom from the flow of gall I name not, butFrom sincere motions, by Intelligence,And proofes as cleere as Founts in Iuly, whenWee see each graine of grauell; I doe knowTo be corrupt and treasonous
Norf. Say not treasonous
Buck. To th' King Ile say't, & make my vouch as strongAs shore of Rocke: attend. This holy Foxe,Or Wolfe, or both (for he is equall rau'nousAs he is subtile, and as prone to mischiefe,As able to perform't) his minde, and placeInfecting one another, yea reciprocally,Only to shew his pompe, as well in France,As here at home, suggests the King our MasterTo this last costly Treaty: Th' enteruiew,That swallowed so much treasure, and like a glasseDid breake ith' wrenching
Norf. Faith, and so it did
Buck. Pray giue me fauour Sir: This cunning CardinallThe Articles o'th' Combination drewAs himselfe pleas'd; and they were ratifiedAs he cride thus let be, to as much end,As giue a Crutch to th' dead. But our Count-CardinallHas 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 PuppieTo th' old dam Treason) Charles the Emperour,Vnder pretence to see the Queene his Aunt,(For twas indeed his colour, but he cameTo whisper Wolsey) here makes visitation,His feares were that the Interview betwixtEngland and France, might through their amityBreed him some preiudice; for from this League,Peep'd harmes that menac'd him. PriuilyDeales with our Cardinal, and as I troaWhich I doe well; for I am sure the EmperourPaid ere he promis'd, whereby his Suit was grantedEre it was ask'd. But when the way was madeAnd 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 CardinallDoes buy and sell his Honour as he pleases,And for his owne aduantage
Norf. I am sorryTo heare this of him; and could wish he wereSomthing mistaken in't
Buck. No, not a sillable:I doe pronounce him in that very shapeHe shall appeare in proofe.Enter Brandon, a Sergeant at Armes before him, and two or threeof theGuard.
Brandon. Your Office Sergeant: execute it
Sergeant. Sir,My Lord the Duke of Buckingham, and EarleOf Hertford, Stafford and Northampton, IArrest thee of High Treason, in the nameOf our most Soueraigne King
Buck. Lo you my Lord,The net has falne vpon me, I shall perishVnder deuice, and practise
Bran. I am sorry,To see you tane from liberty, to looke onThe busines present. Tis his Highnes pleasureYou shall to th' Tower
Buck. It will helpe me nothingTo plead mine Innocence; for that dye is on meWhich makes my whit'st part, black. The will of Heau'nBe done in this and all things: I obey.O my Lord Aburgany: Fare you well
Bran. Nay, he must beare you company. The KingIs pleas'd you shall to th' Tower, till you knowHow he determines further
Abur. As the Duke said,The will of Heauen be done, and the Kings pleasureBy me obey'd
Bran. Here is a warrant fromThe King, t' attach Lord Mountacute, and the BodiesOf 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 oregreat CardinallHath 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.
Scena Secunda.
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' leuellOf a full-charg'd confederacie, and giue thankesTo you that choak'd it. Let be cald before vsThat 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 DukeofNorfolke. Enter the Queene, Norfolke and Suffolke: she kneels.King risethfrom 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 SuitNeuer 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 MaiestyThat you would loue your selfe, and in that loueNot vnconsidered leaue your Honour, norThe dignity of your Office; is the poyntOf my Petition
Kin. Lady mine proceed
Queen. I am solicited not by a few,And those of true condition; That your SubiectsAre in great grieuance: There haue beene CommissionsSent downe among 'em, which hath flaw'd the heartOf all their Loyalties; wherein, althoughMy good Lord Cardinall, they vent reprochesMost bitterly on you, as putter onOf these exactions: yet the King, our MaisterWhose Honor Heauen shield from soile; euen he escapes notLanguage vnmannerly; yea, such which breakesThe sides of loyalty, and almost appearesIn lowd Rebellion
Norf. Not almost appeares,It doth appeare; for, vpon these Taxations,The Clothiers all not able to maintaineThe many to them longing, haue put offThe Spinsters, Carders, Fullers, Weauers, whoVnfit for other life, compeld by hungerAnd lack of other meanes, in desperate mannerDaring 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 oughtPertaines to th' State; and front but in that FileWhere others tell steps with me
Queen. No, my Lord?You know no more then others? But you frameThings that are knowne alike, which are not wholsomeTo those which would not know them, and yet mustPerforce be their acquaintance. These exactions(Whereof my Soueraigne would haue note) they areMost pestilent to th' hearing, and to beare 'em,The Backe is Sacrifice to th' load; They sayThey are deuis'd by you, or else you sufferToo hard an exclamation
Kin. Still Exaction:The nature of it, in what kinde let's know,Is this Exaction?Queen. I am much too venturousIn tempting of your patience, but am boldnedVnder your promis'd pardon. The Subiects griefeComes through Commissions, which compels from eachThe sixt part of his Substance, to be leuiedWithout delay; and the pretence for thisIs nam'd, your warres in France: this makes bold mouths,Tongues spit their duties out, and cold hearts freezeAllegeance in them; their curses nowLiue where their prayers did: and it's come to passe,This tractable obedience is a SlaueTo each incensed Will: I would your HighnesseWould giue it quicke consideration; forThere 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 byA single voice, and that not past me, butBy learned approbation of the Iudges: If I amTraduc'd by ignorant Tongues, which neither knowMy faculties nor person, yet will beThe Chronicles of my doing: Let me say,'Tis but the fate of Place, and the rough BrakeThat Vertue must goe through: we must not stintOur necessary actions, in the feareTo cope malicious Censurers, which euer,As rau'nous Fishes doe a Vessell followThat is new trim'd; but benefit no furtherThen vainly longing. What we oft doe best,By sicke Interpreters (once weake ones) isNot ours, or not allow'd; what worst, as oftHitting a grosser quality, is cride vpFor 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 issueAre to be fear'd. Haue you a PresidentOf 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 takeFrom 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 CountyWhere this is question'd, send our Letters, withFree pardon to each man that has deny'deThe 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 CommonsHardly conceiue of me. Let it be nois'd,That through our Intercession, this ReuokementAnd pardon comes: I shall anon aduise youFurther in the proceeding.
Exit Secret[ary].
Enter Surueyor.
Queen. I am sorry, that the Duke of BuckinghamIs 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 proueNot well dispos'd, the minde growing once corrupt,They turne to vicious formes, ten times more vglyThen euer they were faire. This man so compleat,Who was enrold 'mongst wonders; and when weAlmost with rauish'd listning, could not findeHis houre of speech, a minute: He, (my Lady)Hath into monstrous habits put the GracesThat 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 himThings to strike Honour sad. Bid him recountThe fore-recited practises, whereofWe cannot feele too little, heare too much
Card. Stand forth, & with bold spirit relate what youMost like a carefull Subiect haue collectedOut of the Duke of Buckingham
Kin. Speake freely
Sur. First, it was vsuall with him; euery dayIt would infect his Speech: That if the KingShould without issue dye; hee'l carry it soTo make the Scepter his. These very wordsI'ue heard him vtter to his Sonne in Law,Lord Aburgany, to whom by oth he menac'dReuenge vpon the Cardinall
Card. Please your Highnesse noteThis dangerous conception in this point,Not frended by his wish to your High person;His will is most malignant, and it stretchesBeyond you to your friends
Queen. My learn'd Lord Cardinall,Deliuer all with Charity
Kin. Speake on;How grounded hee his Title to the CrowneVpon 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 minuteWith 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 ParishSaint Laurence Poultney, did of me demandWhat was the speech among the Londoners,Concerning the French Iourney. I replide,Men feare the French would proue perfidiousTo the Kings danger: presently, the DukeSaid, 'twas the feare indeed, and that he doubted'Twould proue the verity of certaine wordsSpoke by a holy Monke, that oft, sayes he,Hath sent to me, wishing me to permitIohn de la Car, my Chaplaine, a choyce howreTo heare from him a matter of some moment:Whom after vnder the Commissions Seale,He sollemnly had sworne, that what he spokeMy Chaplaine to no Creature liuing, butTo me, should vtter, with demure Confidence,This pausingly ensu'de; neither the King, nor's Heyres(Tell you the Duke) shall prosper, bid him striueTo the loue o'th' Commonalty, the DukeShall gouerne England
Queen. If I know you well,You were the Dukes Surueyor, and lost your OfficeOn the complaint o'th' Tenants; take good heedYou 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 illusionsThe Monke might be deceiu'd, and that 'twas dangerousFor this to ruminate on this so farre, vntillIt forg'd him some designe, which being beleeu'dIt was much like to doe: He answer'd, Tush,It can do me no damage; adding further,That had the King in his last Sicknesse faild,The Cardinals and Sir Thomas Louels headsShould 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 DukeAbout 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 plaidThe Part my Father meant to act vponTh' Vsurper Richard, who being at Salsbury,Made suit to come in's presence; which if granted,(As he made semblance of his duty) wouldHaue 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 knifeHe 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 tenorWas, were he euill vs'd, he would outgoeHis Father, by as much as a performanceDo'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 mayFinde mercy in the Law, 'tis his; if none,Let him not seek't of vs: By day and nightHee's Traytor to th' height.
Exeunt.
Scaena Tertia.
L.Ch. Is't possible the spels of France should iuggleMen 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 EnglishHaue got by the late Voyage, is but meerelyA fit or two o'th' face, (but they are shrewd ones)For when they hold 'em, you would sweare directlyTheir very noses had been CouncelloursTo 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 SpauenA 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: how now?What newes, Sir Thomas Louell?Enter 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 MonsieursTo thinke an English Courtier may be wise,And neuer see the Louure
Lou. They must either(For so run the Conditions) leaue those remnantsOf Foole and Feather, that they got in France,With all their honourable points of ignorancePertaining thereunto; as Fights and Fire-workes,Abusing better men then they can beOut of a forreigne wisedome, renouncing cleaneThe 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 Priuilegio, wee awayThe lag end of their lewdnesse, and be laugh'd at
L.San. Tis time to giue 'em Physicke, their diseasesAre growne so catching
L.Cham. What a losse our LadiesWill haue of these trim vanities?Louell. I marry,There will be woe indeed Lords, the slye whorsonsHaue 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: nowAn honest Country Lord as I am, beatenA long time out of play, may bring his plaine song,And haue an houre of hearing, and by'r LadyHeld 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 beThe Beauty of this Kingdome Ile assure you
Lou. That ChurchmanBeares 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 GuilfordThis night to be Comptrollers
L.San. I am your Lordships.
Exeunt.
Scena Quarta.
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 GraceSalutes ye all; This Night he dedicatesTo faire content, and you: None heere he hopesIn all this Noble Beuy, has brought with herOne care abroad: hee would haue all as merry:As first, good Company, good wine, good welcome,Can make good people.Enter L[ord]. Chamberlaine L[ord]. 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 CardinallBut halfe my Lay-thoughts in him, some of theseShould 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 HarryPlace 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: Gentlemen,The pennance lyes on you; if these faire LadiesPasse away frowning
San. For my little Cure,Let me alone.
Hoboyes. Enter Cardinall Wolsey, and takes his State.
Card. Y'are welcome my faire Guests; that noble LadyOr Gentleman that is not freely merryIs 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 riseIn their faire cheekes my Lord, then wee shall haue 'em,Talke vs to silence
An.B. You are a merry GamsterMy 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.
Drum and Trumpet, Chambers dischargd.
San. I told your Grace, they would talke anon
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 EmbassadorsFrom forraigne Princes
Card. Good Lord Chamberlaine,Go, giue 'em welcome; you can speake the French tongueAnd pray receiue 'em Nobly, and conduct 'emInto our presence, where this heauen of beautyShall 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 moreI 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 praidTo tell your Grace: That hauing heard by fameOf 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 ConductCraue leaue to view these Ladies, and entreatAn 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 personMore worthy this place then my selfe, to whom(If I but knew him) with my loue and dutyI would surrender it.
Whisper.
Cham. I will my Lord
Card. What say they?Cham. Such a one, they all confesseThere is indeed, which they would haue your GraceFind out, and he will take it
Card. Let me see then,By all your good leaues Gentlemen; heere Ile makeMy 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 gladYour 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 readyI'th' Priuy Chamber?Lou. Yes, my Lord
Card. Your GraceI 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 measureTo lead 'em once againe, and then let's dreameWho's best in fauour. Let the Musicke knock it.
Exeunt. with Trumpets.
Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.
Enter two Gentlemen at seuerall Doores.
1. Whether away so fast?2. O, God saue ye:Eu'n to the Hall, to heare what shall becomeOf the great Duke of Buckingham
1. Ile saue you That labour Sir. All's now done but the Ceremony Of bringing backe the Prisoner
2. Were you there ? 1. Yes indeed was I
2. Pray speake what ha's happen'd
1. You may guesse quickly what
2. Is he found guilty?1. Yes truely is he,And condemn'd vpon't
2. I am sorry fort
1. So are a number more
2. But pray how past it?1. Ile tell you in a little. The great DukeCame to the Bar; where, to his accusationsHe pleaded still not guilty, and alleadgedMany sharpe reasons to defeat the Law.The Kings Atturney on the contrary,Vrg'd on the Examinations, proofes, confessionsOf diuers witnesses, which the Duke desir'dTo him brought viua voce to his face;At which appear'd against him, his SurueyorSir Gilbert Pecke his Chancellour, and Iohn Car,Confessor to him, with that Diuell Monke,Hopkins, that made this mischiefe
2. That was heeThat fed him with his Prophecies
1. The same,All these accus'd him strongly, which he faineWould haue flung from him; but indeed he could not;And so his Peeres vpon this euidence,Haue found him guilty of high Treason. MuchHe spoke, and learnedly for life: But allWas either pittied in him, or forgotten
2. After all this, how did he beare himselfe? 1. When he was brought agen to th' Bar, to heare His Knell rung out, his Iudgement, he was stir'd With such an Agony, he sweat extreamly, And somthing spoke in choller, ill, and hasty: But he fell to himselfe againe, and sweetly, In all the rest shew'd a most Noble patience
2. I doe not thinke he feares death
1. Sure he does not, He neuer was so womanish, the cause He may a little grieue at
2. Certainly,The Cardinall is the end of this
1. Tis likely,By all coniectures: First Kildares Attendure;Then Deputy of Ireland, who remou'dEarle Surrey, was sent thither, and in hast too,Least he should helpe his Father
2. That tricke of State Was a deepe enuious one, 1. At his returne, No doubt he will requite it; this is noted (And generally) who euer the King fauours, The Cardnall instantly will finde imployment, And farre enough from Court too
2. All the Commons Hate him perniciously, and o' my Conscience Wish him ten faddom deepe: This Duke as much They loue and doate on: call him bounteous Buckingham, The Mirror of all courtesie. Enter Buckingham from his Arraignment, Tipstaues before him, the Axe with the edge towards him, Halberds on each side, accompanied with Sir Thomas Louell, Sir Nicholas Vaux, Sir Walter Sands, and common people, &c.
1. Stay there Sir, And see the noble ruin'd man you speake of
2. Let's stand close and behold him
Buck. All good people,You that thus farre haue come to pitty me;Heare what I say, and then goe home and lose me.I haue this day receiu'd a Traitors iudgement,And by that name must dye; yet Heauen beare witnes,And if I haue a Conscience, let it sincke me,Euen as the Axe falls, if I be not faithfull.The Law I beare no mallice for my death,T'has done vpon the premises, but Iustice:But those that sought it, I could wish more Christians:(Be what they will) I heartily forgiue 'em;Yet let 'em looke they glory not in mischiefe;Nor build their euils on the graues of great men;For then, my guiltlesse blood must cry against 'em.For further life in this world I ne're hope,Nor will I sue, although the King haue merciesMore then I dare make faults.You few that lou'd me,And dare be bold to weepe for Buckingham,His Noble Friends and Fellowes; whom to leaueIs only bitter to him, only dying:Goe with me like good Angels to my end,And as the long diuorce of Steele fals on me,Make of your Prayers one sweet Sacrifice,And lift my Soule to Heauen.Lead on a Gods name
Louell. I doe beseech your Grace, for charityIf euer any malice in your heartWere hid against me, now to forgiue me frankly
Buck. Sir Thomas Louell, I as free forgiue youAs I would be forgiuen: I forgiue all.There cannot be those numberlesse offencesGainst me, that I cannot take peace with:No blacke Enuy shall make my Graue.Commend mee to his Grace:And if he speake of Buckingham; pray tell him,You met him halfe in Heauen: my vowes and prayersYet are the Kings; and till my Soule forsake,Shall cry for blessings on him. May he liueLonger then I haue time to tell his yeares;Euer belou'd and louing, may his Rule be;And when old Time shall lead him to his end,Goodnesse and he, fill vp one Monument
Lou. To th' water side I must conduct your Grace;Then giue my Charge vp to Sir Nicholas Vaux,Who vndertakes you to your end
Vaux. Prepare there,The Duke is comming: See the Barge be ready;And fit it with such furniture as suitesThe Greatnesse of his Person
Buck. Nay, Sir Nicholas,Let it alone; my State now will but mocke me.When I came hither, I was Lord High Constable,And Duke of Buckingham: now, poore Edward Bohun;Yet I am richer then my base Accusers,That neuer knew what Truth meant: I now seale it;And with that bloud will make 'em one day groane for't.My noble Father Henry of Buckingham,Who first rais'd head against Vsurping Richard,Flying for succour to his Seruant Banister,Being distrest; was by that wretch betraid,And without Tryall, fell; Gods peace be with him.Henry the Seauenth succeeding, truly pittyingMy Fathers losse; like a most Royall PrinceRestor'd me to my Honours: and out of ruinesMade my Name once more Noble. Now his Sonne,Henry the Eight, Life, Honour, Name and allThat made me happy; at one stroake ha's takenFor euer from the World. I had my Tryall,And must needs say a Noble one; which makes meA little happier then my wretched Father:Yet thus farre we are one in Fortunes; bothFell by our Seruants, by those Men we lou'd most:A most vnnaturall and faithlesse Seruice.Heauen ha's an end in all: yet, you that heare me,This from a dying man receiue as certaine:Where you are liberall of your loues and Councels,Be sure you be not loose; for those you make friends,And giue your hearts to; when they once perceiueThe least rub in your fortunes, fall awayLike water from ye, neuer found againeBut where they meane to sinke ye: all good peoplePray for me, I must now forsake ye; the last houreOf my long weary life is come vpon me:Farewell; and when you would say somthing that is sad,Speake how I fell.I haue done; and God forgiue me.
Exeunt. Duke and Traine.
1. O, this is full of pitty; Sir, it cals I feare, too many curses on their heads That were the Authors
2. If the Duke be guiltlesse,'Tis full of woe: yet I can giue you incklingOf an ensuing euill, if it fall,Greater then this
1. Good Angels keepe it from vs:What may it be? you doe not doubt my faith Sir?2. This Secret is so weighty, 'twill requireA strong faith to conceale it
1. Let me haue it:I doe not talke much
2. I am confident;You shall Sir: Did you not of late dayes heareA buzzing of a SeparationBetweene the King and Katherine?1. Yes, but it held not;For when the King once heard it, out of angerHe sent command to the Lord Mayor straightTo stop the rumor; and allay those tonguesThat durst disperse it
2. But that slander Sir,Is found a truth now: for it growes agenFresher then e're it was; and held for certaineThe King will venture at it. Either the Cardinall,Or some about him neere, haue out of maliceTo the good Queene, possest him with a scrupleThat will vndoe her: To confirme this too,Cardinall Campeius is arriu'd, and lately,As all thinke for this busines
1. Tis the Cardinall;And meerely to reuenge him on the Emperour,For not bestowing on him at his asking,The Archbishopricke of Toledo, this is purpos'd
2. I thinkeYou haue hit the marke; but is't not cruell,That she should feele the smart of this: the CardinallWill haue his will, and she must fall
1. 'Tis wofull. Wee are too open heere to argue this: Let's thinke in priuate more.
Exeunt.
Scena Secunda.
Enter Lord Chamberlaine, reading this Letter.
My Lord, the Horses your Lordship sent for, with all the care I had, I saw well chosen, ridden, and furnish'd. 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 Cardinalls, by Commission, and maine power tooke 'em from me, with this reason: his maister would bee seru'd before a Subiect, if not before the King, which stop'd our mouthes Sir. I feare he will indeede; well, let him haue them; hee will haue all I thinke. Enter to the Lord Chamberlaine, the Dukes of Norfolke and Suffolke.
Norf. Well met my Lord Chamberlaine
Cham. Good day to both your Graces
Suff. How is the King imployd?Cham. I left him priuate,Full of sad thoughts and troubles
Norf. What's the cause?Cham. It seemes the Marriage with his Brothers WifeHa's crept too neere his Conscience
Suff. No, his ConscienceHa's crept too neere another Ladie
Norf. Tis so;This is the Cardinals doing: The King-Cardinall,That blinde Priest, like the eldest Sonne of Fortune,Turnes what he list. The King will know him one day
Suff. Pray God he doe,Hee'l neuer know himselfe else
Norf. How holily he workes in all his businesse,And with what zeale? For now he has crackt the LeagueBetween vs & the Emperor (the Queens great Nephew)He diues into the Kings Soule, and there scattersDangers, doubts, wringing of the Conscience,Feares, and despaires, and all these for his Marriage.And out of all these, to restore the King,He counsels a Diuorce, a losse of herThat like a Iewell, ha's hung twenty yearesAbout his necke, yet neuer lost her lustre;Of her that loues him with that excellence,That Angels loue good men with: Euen of her,That when the greatest stroake of Fortune fallsWill blesse the King: and is not this course pious?Cham. Heauen keep me from such councel: tis most trueThese newes are euery where, euery tongue speaks 'em,And euery true heart weepes for't. All that dareLooke into these affaires, see this maine end,The French Kings Sister. Heauen will one day openThe Kings eyes, that so long haue slept vponThis bold bad man
Suff. And free vs from his slauery
Norf. We had need pray,And heartily, for our deliuerance;Or this imperious man will worke vs allFrom Princes into Pages: all mens honoursLie like one lumpe before him, to be fashion'dInto what pitch he please
Suff. For me, my Lords,I loue him not, nor feare him, there's my Creede:As I am made without him, so Ile stand,If the King please: his Curses and his blessingsTouch me alike: th'are breath I not beleeue in.I knew him, and I know him: so I leaue himTo him that made him proud; the Pope