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Or gentleman, that is not freely merry,
K. Hen. The fairest hand I ever touch'd! 0, Is not my friend : This, to confirm my
beauty, And to you all good health.
(Drinks. ||Till now I never knew thee. (Musie. Dance. Sands.
Your grace iş noble;- Wol. My lord, Let me have such a bowl may hold
Your grace? And save me so much talking.
Wol. Pray, tell them thus much from me : IV ol.
My lord Sands, There should be one amongst them, by his person, I am beholden to you: cheer your neighbours.- More worthy this place than myself; to whom, Ladies, you are not merry ;-Gentlemen, If I but knew him, with my love and duty Whose fault is this?
would surrender it. Sands. The red wine first must rise Cham.
I will, my lord. In their fair cheeks, my lord; then we shall have (Cham. goes to the company, and returns. them
Wol. What say they ? Talk us to silence.
Such a one, they all confess, Anne.
You are a merry gamester, There is, indeed; which they would have your grace My lord Sands.
Find out, and he will take it 3 Sands. Yes, if I make my play.!
Let me see then, Here's to your ladyship; and pledge it, madam,
(Comes from his state. For 'tis to such a thing,
By all your good leaves, gentlemen ;-Here I'll Anne. You cannot show me.
make Sands. I told your grace, they would talk anon. || My royal choice.
[Drum and irumpets within : chambers2 K. Hen. You have found him, cardinal : discharged.
What's that? | You hold a fair assembly; you do well, my lord : Cham. Look out there, some of you.
You are a churchman, or, I'll tell you, cardinal,
Éxit a Servant. || I should judge now unhappily.4
I am glad,
My lord chamberlain,
Prythee, come bither: What fair lady's that? Re-enter Servant.
Cham. An't please your grace, sir Thomas Bul. Cham. How norv? what is't?
len's daughter, Sero.
A noble troop of strangers: The viscount Rochford, one of her highness' women. For so they seem: they have left their barge, and K. Hen. By heaven, she is a dainty one. -Sweetlanded;
heart, And hither make, as great ambassadors
I were unmannerly, to take you out, From foreign princes.
And not to kiss you. --A health, gentlemen, Wol.
Good lord chamberlain, Let it go round. Go, give them welcome ; you can speak the French Wol. Sir Thomas Lovell, is the banquet ready tongue;
I'the privy chamber?
Yes, my lord.
[Erit Chamberlain, atlended. All arise, K. Hen. I fear, too much.
There's fresher air, my lord, You have now a brohen banquet; but we'll mend it. In the next chamber. A good digestion to you ail : and, once more, K. Hen. Lead in your ladies, every one.-Sweet I shower a welcome on you ;-Welcome all.
I must not yet forsake you :-Let's be merry ;Hautboys. Enter the King, and twelve others, os Good my lord cardinal, I have half a dozen healths maskers, habited like Shepherds, with sirteen To drink to these fair ladies, and a measures Torch-bearers ; ushered by the Lord Chamber-) To lead them once again; and then let's dream lain. They pass directly before the Cardinal, || Who's best in favour.-Let the music knock it. and gracefully salute him.
(Exeunt, with trumpets. A noble company! what are their pleasures ? Cham. Because they speak no English, thus they
pray'd To tell your grace ; - That, having heard by fame Of this so noble and so fair assembly
ACT II. This night to meet here, they could do no less,
SCENE 1.-A street. Enter two Gentlemen, Out of the great respect they bear to beauty,
meeting But leave their flocks; and, under your fair conduct,
1 Gent. Whither away so fast? Crave leave to view these ladies, and entreat
0,-God save you! An hour of revels with them.
Even to the hall, to hear what shall become Wol.
Say, lord chamberlain, || Of the great duke of Buckingham. They have done my poor house grace; for which 1 Gent.
I'll save you i pay them
That labour, sir. All's now done, but the ceremony A thousand thanks, and pray them take their plea- Of bringing back the prisoner.
Were you there? įLadies chosen for the dance. The King 1 Gent. Yes, indeed, was I. chooses Anne Bullen.
(3) The chief place. (4) Mischievously, (1) Choose my game.
(2) Small capnon.
(5) Dance. VOL. 11.
2 Gent. Pray, speak, what has happen'd? || Hear what I say, and then go home and lose me. 1 Gent. You may guess quickly what.
I have this day receiv'd a traitor's judgment, 2 Gent.
Is he found guilty? And by that name must die; Yet, heaven bear wit1 Gent. Yes, truly is he, and condemn'd upon it.
• ness, 2 Gent. I am sorry for't.
And, if I have a conscience, let it sink me, 1 Gent.
So are a number more. Even as the axe falls, if I be not faithful! 2 Gent. But, pray, how pass'd it?
The law I bear no malice for my death, I Gent. I'll tell you in a little. The great duke It has done, upon the premises, but justice: Came to the bar; where, to his accusations, But those, thai sought it, I could wish more Chris He pleaded still, not guilty, and alley'd
tians : Many sharp reasons to defeat the law.
Be what they will, I heartily forgive them : The king's attorney, on the contrary,
Yet let them look, they glory not in mischief, Urg'd on the examinations, proofs, confessions Nor build their evils on the graves of great men; of divers witnesses ; which the duke desir'd For then my guiltless blood must cry against them : To him brought, vivâ voce, to his face :
For further life in this world I ne'er hope, At which appear'd against him, his surveyor; Nor will I sue, although the king have mercies Sir Gilbert Peck his chancellor; and John Court, | More than I dare make faults. You few that lov'd Confessor to him; with that devil-monk,
me, Hopkins, that made this mischief.
And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham, 2 Gent.
That was he, His noble friends, and fellows, whom to leave That fed him with his prophecies?
Is only bitter to him, only dying, 1 Gent.
The same. Go with me, like good angels, to my end; All these accus'd him strongly; which he fain And, as the long divorce of steel falls on me, Would have flung from him, but, indeed, he could Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice, not:
And lift my soul to heaven.-Lead on, o‘God's name. And so his peers, upon this evidence,
Lov. I do beseech your grace, for charity, Have found him guilty of high treason. Much If ever any malice in your heart He spoke, and learnedly, for life: but all Were hid against me, now to forgive me frankly. Was either pitied in him, or forgotten.
Buck. Sir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive you, 2 Gent. After all this, how did he bear himself? || As I would be forgiven : I forgive all; 1 Gent. When he was brought again to the bar,- ||There cannot be those numberless offences to hear
'Gainst me, I can't take peace with: no black envy His knell rung out, his judgment -he was stirrd Shall makel my grave. —Commend me to his grace; With such an agony, he sweat extremely, And, if he speak of Buckingham, pray, tell him, And something spoke in choler, ill, and hasty: You met him half in heaven: My vows and prayers But he fell to himself again, and, sweetly, Yet are the king's; and, till my soul forsake me, In all the rest show'd a most noble patience. Shall cry for blessings on him: May he live 2 Gent. I do not think, he fears death.
Longer than I have time to tell his years ! 1 Gent.
Sure, he does not. Ever belov'd, and loving, may his rule be! He never was so womanish: the cause
And, when old time shall lead him to his end, He may a little grieve at.
Goodness and he fill up one monument ! 2 Gent. Certainly,
Lov. To the water-side I must conduct your The cardinal is the end of this.
grace; 1 Gent.
'Tis likely, Then give my charge up to sir Nicholas Vaux, By all conjectures : First, Kildare's attainder, Who undertakes
end. Then deputy of Ireland; who remov'd,
Prepare there, Earl Surrey was sent thither, and in haste too, The duke is coming : see, the barge be ready; Lest he should help his father.
And fit it with such furniture, as suits 2 Gent.
That trick of state,|| The greatness of his person. Was a deep envious one.
Nay, sir Nicholas, 1 Gent. At his return,
Let it alone; my state now will but mock me. No doubt, he will requite-it. This is noted, When I came hither, I was lord high constable, And generally; whoever the king favours, And duke of Buckingham; now, poor Edward The cardinal instantly will find employment,
Bohun : And far enough from court too.
Yet I am richer than my base accusers, 2 Gent.
All the commons That never knew what truth meant: I now seal it; Hate him perniciously, and o'my conscience,
And with that blood will make them one day groan Wish him ten fathom deep: this duke as much
for't. They love and dote on; call him, bounteous Buck-My noble father, Henry of Buckingham, ingham,
Who first rais'd head against usurping Richard, The mirror of all courtesy ;
Flying for succour to his servant Banister, 1 Gent.
Stay there, sir, Being distress'd, was by that wretch betray'd, And see the noble ruin'd man you speak of. And without trial fell; God's peace be with him! Enter Buckingham from his arraignment ; Tip-|| My father's
loss, like a most royal prince,
Henry the Seventh succeeding, truly pitying staves before him, the axe with the edge towards Restor'd me to my honours, and out of ruins, him; halberds on each side ; with him, Sir Thomas Lovell, Sir Nicholas Vaux, Sir William Henry the Eighth, life, honour, name, and all
Now his son, Sands, and common people.
That made me happy, at one stroke has taken 2 Gent. Let's stand close, and behold him. For ever from the world. I had my trial, Buck.
All good people, | And, must needs say, a noble one; which makes me You that thus far have come to pity me,
A little happier than my wretched father:
Yet thus far we are one in fortunes,-Both (1) Close.
Fell by our servants, by those men we lov'd most:
A most unnatural and faithless service!
He will have all, I think. Heaven has an end in all: Yet, you that hear me,
Enter the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk. This from a dying man receive as certain :
Nor. Where you are liberal of your loves, and counsels,
Well met, my good
Lord chamberlain. Be sure, you be not loose; for those you make
Good day to both your graces. And give your hearts to, when they once perceive
Suff. How is the king employ'd ? The least rub in your fortunes, fall away
'I left him private, Like water from ye, never found again
Full of sad thoughts and troubles.
What's the cause ?
Cham. It seems, the marriage with his brother's
wife Of my long weary life is come upon me. Farewell :
Has crept too near his conscience. And when you would say something that is sad,
No, his conscience Speak how I fell.—I have done; and God forgive
Has crept too near another lady.
Nor. [Exeunt Buckingham and train. 1 Gent. O, this is full of pity Sir, it calls,
This is the cardinal's doing, the king-cardinal : I fear, too many curses on their heads,
That blind priest, like the eldest son of fortune, That were the authors.
Turns what he lists. The king will know him one 2 Gent. If the duke be guiltless,
day. 'Tis full of wo: yet I can give you inkling
Suff. Pray God, he do! he'll never know himself
else. Of an ensuing evil, if it fall, Greater than this.
Nor. How holily he works in all his business ! 1 Gent. Good angels keep it from us ! And with what zeal ! For, now he has crack'd the Where
it be? You do not doubt my faith, sir? 2 Gent. This secret is so weighty, 'twill require
Between us and the emperor, the queen's great A strong faith1 to conceal it.
nephew, 1 Gent.
Let me have it;
He dives into the king's soul; and there scatters I do not talk much.
Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience, 2 Gent. I am confident;
Fears, and despairs, and all these for bis mar. You shall, sir: Did you not of late days hear
riage: A buzzing, of a separation
And, out of all these to restore the king,
He counsels a divorce; a loss of her, Between the king and Katharine?
That, like a jewel, bas hung twenty years 1 Gent.
Yes, but it held not ;
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 durst disperse it.
That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls,
Will bless the king : And is not this course pious ? 2 Gent.
But that slander, sir, Is found a truth now : for it grows again
Cham. Heaven keep me from such counsel! 'Tis
most true, Fresher than e'er it was; and held for certain,
These news are every where; erery tongue speaks The king will venture at it. Either the cardinal,
them, Or some about him near, have, out of malice To the good queen, possess'd him with a scruple
And every true heart weeps fort: All, that dare That will undo her: To confirm this too,
Look into these affairs, see this main end,
The French king's sister. Heaven will one day open Cardinal Campeius is arriv'd, and lately;
The king's eyes, that so long have slept upon As all think, for this business.
This bold bad man. 1 Gent.
'Tis the cardinal;
And free us from his slavery. And merely to revenge him on the emperor,
Nor. We had need pray,
And heartily, for our deliverance;
From princes into pages : all men's honours That she should feel the smart of this? The cardinal | Lie in one lump before him, to be fashion'd
Into what pitch2 he please.
For me, my lords, We are too open here to argue this;
I love him not, nor fear him; there's my creed : Let's think in private more.
As I am made without him, so I'll stand,
If the king please ; his curses and his blessings SCENE II.-An ante-chamber in the palace. Touch me alike, they are breath I not believe in. Enter the Lord Chamberlain, reading a letter. I knew him, and I know him ; so I leave him
To him, that made him proud, the pope. Cham. My lord,—The horses your lordship sent Nor.
Let's in ; for, with all the care I had, I saw well chosen, rid.||And, with some other business, put the king, dlen, and furnished. They were young, and hand- From these sad thoughts, that work too much upon some; and of the best breed in the north. When
him :they were ready to set out for London, a man of My lord, you'll bear us company ? my lord cardinal's, by commission, and main Cham.
Excuse me; power, took 'em from me; with this reason, -His|The king hath sent me other-where: Besides, master would be served before a subject, if not be- || You'll find a most unfit time to disturb him : fore the king : which stopped our mouths, sir. Health to your lordships.
Nor. I fear, he will, indeed : Well, let him have them :)
Thanks, my good lord chamberlain.
Exit Lord Chamberlain, (1) Great fidelity.
(2) High or low.
Norfolk opens a folding-door. The King is dis- || So dear in heart, not to deny her that
covered sitting, and reading pensively. A woman of less place might ask by law, Suff How sad he looks! sure, he is much af- Scholars, allow'd freely to argue to her.
K. Hen. Ay, and the best, she shail have; and my flicted.
favour K. Hen. Who is there? ha?
To him that does best; God forbid else. Cardinal, Nor.
'Pray God, he be not angry. K. Hen. Who's there, I say? How dare you thrust Pr’ythee, call Gardiner to me, my new secretary;
I find him a fit fellow.
[Exit Wolsey. yourselves Into my private meditations ?
Re-enter Wolsey, with Gardiner. Who am I? ha?
Wol. Give me your hand : much joy and favour Nor. A gracious king, that pardons all offences Malice ne'er meant : our breach of duty, this way, | You are the king's now.
to you; Is business of estate ; in which, we come
But to be commanded To know your royal pleasure. K. Hen.
You are too bold :
For ever by your grace, whose hand has rais'd me. Go to; I'll make ye know your times of business :
K. Hen. Come hither, Gardiner. Is this an hour for temporal affairs ? ha?-
(They converse apart, Enter Wolse ; and Campeius.
Cam. My lord of York, was not one doctor Pace Who's there? my good lord cardinal ?-0 my
In this man's place before him?
Yes, he was.
Cam. Was he not held a learned man? The quiet of my wounded conscience,
Wol. Thou art a cure fit for a king.--You're welcome,
Yes, surely. (To Cainpeius.
Cam. Believe me, there's an ill opinion spread Most learned reverend sir, into our kingdon ;
then Use us, and it :-My good lord, have great care
Even of yourself, lord cardinal.
How! of me?
Cam. They will not stick to say, you envied him; I would your grace would give us but an hour
And fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous, of private conference.
Kept him a foreign man2 still; which so griev'd him, K. Hen. We are busy; go.
That he ran mad, and died. [To Norfolk and Suffolk.
Heaven's peace be with him! Nor. This priest has no pride in him?
That's christian care enough: for living murmurers, Suff Not to speak of ;
There's places of rebuke. He was a fool; I would not be so sick though, for his
For he would needs be virtuous : That good fellow, place :
If I command him, foilows my appointment;
Aside. But this cannot continue.
I will have none so near else. Learn this, brother, Nor. If it do,
We live not to be grip'd by meaner persons. I'll venture one heave at him.
K. Hen. Deliver this with modesty to the queen. Suff I another
(Éxit Gardiner. [Exeunt Norfolk and Suffolk. The most convenient place that I can think of, Wol. Yourgrace has given a precedent of wisdom | For such receipt of learning, is Black-Friars; Above all princes, in committing freely
There ye shall meet about this weighty business : Your scruple to the voice of Christendom : My Wolsey, see it furnish’d.–O my lord, Who can be angry now? what envy reach you?
Would it not grieve an able man, to leave The Spaniard, tied by blood and favour to her,
So sweet a bedfellow? But, conscience, conMust now confess, if they have any goodness,
science, The trial just and noble. All the clerks,
O, 'tis a tender place, and I must leave her. (Exe. I mean, the learned ones, in Christian kingdoms,
SCENE III.-An ante-chamber in the Queen's Have their free voices; Rome, the nurse of judg.
apartments. Enter Anne Bullen, and an old ment,
Anne. Not for that neither;—Here's the pang This just and learned priest, cardinal Campeius ;
that pinches : Whom once more, I present unto your highness. His highness having liv'd so long with her: and she K. Hen. And, once more, in mine arms,
I bid him | So good a lady, that no tongue could ever welcome,
Pronounce dishonour of her,-by my life, And thank the holy conclave for their loves ;
She never knew harm-doing :-Ó They have sent me such a man I would have wish'd So many courses of the sun enthron'd, for.
Still growing in a majesty and pomp,—the which Cam. Yourgrace must needs deserve all strangers' || To leave is a thousand-fold more bitter, than loves,
'Tis sweet at first to acquire, -after this process, You are so noble: to your highness' hand
To give her the avaunt :3 it is a pity I tender my commission; by whose virtue,
Would move a monster. (The court of Rome commanding,)-you, my lord
Hearts of most hard temper Cardinal of York, are join'd with me their servant, || Melt and lament for her. In the unpartial judging of this business.
0, God's will! much better. K. Hen. Two equal men. The queen shall be She ne'er had known pomp: though it be temporal, acquainted
Yet, if that quarrel,4 fortune, do divorce Forthwith, for what you come:-Where's Gardiner? || It from the bearer, 'tis a sufferance, panging Wol. I know, your majesty has always lov'd her As soul and body's severing.
Alas, poor lady!
(3) A sentence of ejection. (4) Quarrelles.
She's a stranger now again.'
More than my all, is nothing; vor my prayers Anne.
So much the more Are not words duly hallow'd, nor my wishes Must pity drop upon her. Verily,
More worth than empty vanities; yet prayers, and I swear, 'tis better to be lowly born,
wishes, And range with humble livers in content, Are all I can return. 'Beseech your lordship, Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief, Vouchsafe to speak my thanks, and my obedience, And wear a golden sorrow.
As from a blushing handmaid, to his highness; Old L.
Whose health, and royalty, I pray for. Is our best having 2
By my troth, and maidenhead, I shall not fail to approve the fair conceit,6 I would not be a queen.
The king bath of you.- I have perus'd her well; Old L. Beshrew me, I would,
[.Aside. And venture maidenhead for't; and so would Beauty and honour in her are so mingled, you,
That they have caught the king: and who knows For all this spice of your hypocrisy:
yet, You, that have so fair parts of woman on you,
But from this lady may proceed a gem,
I spoke with you.
My honour'd lord. gifts
[Exit Lord Chamberlain. (Saving your mincing) the capacity
Old L. Why, this it is; see,
see! Of your soft cheveril4 conscience would receive, I have been beyging sixteen years in court, If you might please to stretch it.
(Am yet a courtier beggarly,) nor could Anne.
Nay, good troth,-||Come pat betwixt too early and too late, Old L. Yes, troth, and troth,—You would not be For any suit of pounds : and you, (O fate!) a queen?
A very fresh-fish here, (fie, fie upon Anne. No, not for all the riches under heaven. This compelld fortune.) have your mouth fill'd up, Old L. 'Tis strange; a three-pence bow'ds Before you open it. would hire me,
This is strange to me. Old as I am, to queen it: But, I pray you,
Old L. How tastes it? is it bitter? forty pence, no. What think you of a duchess? have you limbs There was a lady once ('tis an old story) To bear that load of title?
That would not be a queen, that would she not, Anne.
No, in truth. For all the mud in Egypt:-Have you heard it? Old L. Then you are weakly made: Pluck off Anne. Come, you are pleasant. a little;
With your theme, I could I would not be a young count in your way, O'ermount the lark. The marchioness of Pembroke! For more than blushing comes to: if your back A thousand pounds a year! for pure respect; Cannot vouchsafe this burden, 'tis too weak No other obligation : By my life, Ever to get a boy.
That promises more thousands : Honour's train Anne. How you do talk !
Is longer than his foreskirt. By this time, I swear again, I would not be a queen
I know, your back will bear a duchess ;-Say, For all the world.
Are you not stronger than you were?
Good lady, You'd venture an emballing: I myself
Make yourself mirth with your particular fancy, Would for Carnarvonshire, although there 'long'd || And leave me out on't. Would I had no being, No more to the crown but that. Lo, who comes If this salute my blood a jot; it faints me, here?
To think what follows.
is comfortless, and we forgetful
In our long absence : Pray, do not deliver Cham. Good-morrow, ladies. What were't worth || What here you have heard, to her. to know
What do you think me? The secret of your conference ?
My good lord, SCENE IV.-A Hall in Black-Friars. TrumNot your demand; it values not your asking :
pets, sennet, and cornets. Enter two Vergers, Our mistress' sorrows we were pitying:
with short silver wands; next them, two Scribes, Cham. It was a gentle business, and becoming in the habits of doctors ; after them, the ArchThe action of good women: there is hope,
bishop of Canterbury alone; after him, the All will be well.
Bishops of Lincoln, Ely, Rochester, and Saint Anne. Now I pray God, amen!
Asaph; next them, with some small distance, Cham. You bear a gentle mind, and heavenly
follows a gentleman bearing the purse, with the blessings
great seal, and a cardinal'shat; then two Priests, Follow such creatures. That you may, fair lady,
bearing each a silver cross; then a Gentleman Perceive I speak sincerely, and high note's Usher bare-headed, accompanied with a Serjeant Ta'en of your many virtues, the king's majesty
at Arms, bearing a silver mace; then two Gene Commends his good opinion to you, and
tlemen, bearing two great silver pillars, 8 after Does purpose honour to you no less flowing
side by side, the two Cardinals, Wolsey Than marchioness of Pembroke; to which title A thousand pound a year, annual support,
and Campeius; two Noblemen with the sword and mace.
Then enter the King and Queen, Out of his grace he adds.
and their trains. The King takes place under Anne. I do not know,
the cloth of state ; the two Cardinals sit under What kind of my obedience I should tender;
him as judges. The Queen takes place at some (1) No longer an Englishwoman. (2) Possession. (6) Opinion. (7) Flourish on cornets. (3) Truth. (4) Kid-skin. (5) Crook'd. (8) Ensigns of dignity carried before cardinals.