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2 Gent. I do not think, he fears death.
Ever belor'd, and loving, may his rule be: 1 Gent.
Sure, he does not; And when old time shall lead him to his end, He was never so womanish: the cause
Goodness and he fill up one monument! He may a little grieve at.
Lov. To the water side I must conduct your grace; 2 Gent. Certainly,
Then, give my charge up to sir Nicholas Vaux, The cardinal is the end of this.
Who undertakes you to your end. 1 Gent.
'Tis likely -
Prepare there! By all conjectures: first, Kildare's attainder,
The duke is coming : see, the barge be ready; Then deputy of Ireland; who remov'd,
And fit it with such furniture, as suits Earl Surrey was sent thither, and in haste too,
The greatness of his person. Lest he should help his father.
Nay, sir Nicholas, 2 Gent.
That trick of state Let it alone: my state now will but mock me, Was a deep envious one.
When I came hither I was lord high constable, 1 Gent. At his return,
And duke of Buckingham; now, poor Edward Bohun: No doubt, he will requite it. This is noted,
Yet I am richer than my base accusers, And generally ;-whoever the king favours,
That never knew what truth meant. I now seal it; The cardinal instantly will find employment,
And with that blood will one day make them groan for't. And far enough from court too.
My noble father, Henry of Buckingham, 2 Gent.
All the commons Who first rais'd head against usurping Richard, Hate him perniciously, and, o' my conscience, Flying for succour to his servant Banister, Wish him ten fathom deep: this duke as much Being distress'd, was by that wretch betray'd, They love and dote on; call him, bounteous Bucking-| And without trial fell : God's peace be with him ! ham,
| Henry the seventh succeeding, truly pitying The mirror of all courtesy
My father's loss, like a most royal prince, 1 Gent.
Stay there, sir;
Restor'd me to my honours, and out of ruins And see the noble ruin'd man you speak of.
Made my name once more noble. Now, his son, Enter BUCKINGHAM from his Arraignment; Tipstaves Henry the eighth, life, honour, name, and all before him; the Axe with the edge towards him; That made me happy, at one stroke has taken Halberds on each side : accompanied with Sir Thomas For ever from the world. I had my trial, Lovell, Sir Nicholas Vaux, Sir WILLIAM SANDS, And, must needs say, a noble one; which makes me and common People.
A little happier than my wretched father: 2 Gent. Let's stand close, and behold him.
Yet thus far we are one in fortunes,—both Buck.
All good people, Fell by our servants, by those men we lov'd most: You that thus far have come to pity me,
A most unnatural and faithless service, Hear what I say, and then go home and lose me. Heaven has an end in all; yet, you that hear me, I have this day receiv'd a traitor's judgment,
This from a dying man receive as certain : And by that name must die: yet, heaven bear witness, Where you are liberal of your loves and counsels, And if I have a conscience let it sink me,
Be sure, you be not loose; for those you make friends, Even as the axe falls, if I be not faithful.
And give your hearts to, when they once perceive The law I bear no malice for my death,
The least rub in your fortunes, fall away It has done upon the premises but justice;
Like water from ye, never found again But those that sought it I could wish more Christians: But when they mean to sink ye. All good people, Be what they will, I heartily forgive them.
Pray for me. I must now forsake ye: the last hour Yet let them look they glory not in mischief,
Of my long weary life is come upon me. Nor build their evils on the graves of great men; Farewell: and when you would say something that is For then my guiltless blood must cry against them.
sad, For farther life in this world I ne'er hope,
Speak how I fell.--I have done, and God forgive me! Nor will I sue, although the king have mercies
[Exeunt BuckINGHAM, &c. More than I dare make faults. You few that lov'd me, 1 Gent. O! this is full of pity.--Sir, it calls, And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham,
I fear, too many curses on their heads His noble friends and fellows, whom to leave
That were the authors. Is only bitter to him, only dying,
If the duke be guiltless, Go with me, like good angels, to my end;
"Tis full of woe: yet I can give you inkling And, as the long divorce of steel falls on me,
Of an ensuing evil, if it fall, Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice,
Greater than this. And lift my soul to heaven.-Lead on, o' God's name. 1 Gent. Good angels keep it from us ! Lov. I do beseech your grace, for charity,
What may it be? You do not doubt my faith, sir? If ever any malice in your heart
2 Gent. This secret is so weighty, 'twill require Were hid against me, now to forgive me frankly. A strong faith to conceal it. Buck. Sir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive you, 1 Gent.
Let me have it: As I would be forgiven: I forgive all;
I do not talk much. There cannot be those numberless offences
I am confident:
A buzzing of a separation
Yes, but it held not You met him half in heaven. My vows and prayers For when the king once heard it, out of anger Yet are the king's; and, till my soul forsake,
He sent command to the lord mayor straight Shall cry for blessings on him: may he live
To stop the rumour, and allay those tongues Longer than I have time to tell his years.
That durst disperse it.
The king's eyes, that so long have slept upon Is found a truth now; for it grows again
This bold bad man. Fresher than e'er it was, and held for certain
And free us from his slavery.
And heartily, for our deliverance,
From princes into pages. All men's honours Cardinal Campeius is arriv'd, and lately,
Lie like one lump before him, to be fashion'd As all think, for this business.
Into what pitch he please. 1 Gent. 'Tis the cardinal;
For me, my lords, And merely to revenge him on the emperor,
I love him not, nor fear him; there's my creed. For not bestowing on him, at his asking,
As I am made without him, so I'll stand, The archbishoprick of Toledo, this is purpos’d. If the king please: his curses and his blessings 2 Gent. I think, you have hit the mark: but is't not Touch me alike, they're breath I not believe in, cruel,
I knew him, and I know him ; so I leave him That she should feel the smart of this? The cardinal To him that made bim proud, the pope. Will have his will, and she must fall.
Nor. 1 Gent.
'Tis woful. And with some other business put the king We are too open here to argue this;
From these sad thoughts, that work too much upot Let's think in private more.
him. SCENE II.—An Ante-chamber in the Palace.
My lord, you'll bear us company?
Excuse me; Enter the Lord Chamberlain, reading a Letter. The king hath sent me other-where: besides, Cham. “My lord,—The horses your lordship sent You'll find a most unfit time to disturb him. for, with all the care I had, I saw well chosen, ridden, Health to your lordships. and furnished. They were young, and handsome, and Nor.
Thanks, my good lord chamberlain. of the best breed in the north. When they were
[Exit Lord Chamberlain. ready to set out for London, a man of my lord car Curtain drawn : the King is discovered sitting, and dinal's, by commission and main power, took them from
reading pensively. me; with this reason,-his master would be served Suf. How sad he looks : sure, he is much afflicted. before a subject, if not before the king; which stopped K. Hen. Who is there? ha! our mouths, sir.”
Pray God, he be not angri. I fear, he will, indeed. Well, let him have them : K. Hen. Who's there, I say? How dare you thras He will have all, I think.
yourselves Enter the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk. Into my private meditations? Nor. Well met, my lord chamberlain.
Who am I? ha! Cham. Good day to both your graces.
Nor. A gracious king, that pardons all offences, Suf. How is the king employ'd ?
Malice ne'er meant; our breach of duty this way | Cham.
. I left him private, Is business of estate, in which we come Full of sad thoughts and troubles.
To know your royal pleasure.
Ye are too bold. Cham. It seems, the marriage with his brother's wife Go to; I'll make ye know your times of business : Has crept too near his conscience.
Is this an hour for temporal affairs ? halSuf.
No; his conscience Has crept too near another lady.
Enter WOLSEY and Campeius. Nor..
Who's there ? my good lord cardinal ?-0! my Wolsti This is the cardinal's doing, the king-cardinal: The quiet of my wounded conscience; That blind priest, like the eldest son of fortune, Thou art a cure fit for a king.--You're welcome, Turns what he list. The king will know him one day.
Suf. Pray God, he do: he'll never know himself else. Most learned reverend sir, into our kingdom :
Nor. How holily he works in all his business. Use us, and it.-My good lord, have great care And with what zeal; for, now he has crack'd the league I be not found a talker. Between us and the emperor, the queen's great nephew, Wol.
Sir, you cannot. He dives into the king's soul; and there scatters I would, your grace would give us but an hour Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience,
Of private conference. Fears, and despairs, and all these for his marriage : K. Hen.
We are busy: go. And, out of all these, to restore the king,
[To NORFOLK and SOFTOLU He counsels a divorce; a loss of her,
Nor. This priest has no pride in him. That like a jewel has hung twenty years
Not to speak of; About his neck, yet never lost her lustre;
I would not be so sick though for his place: Of her, that loves him with that excellence
But this cannot continue. That angels love good men with ; even of her
If it do, That when the greatest stroke of fortune falls,
I'll venture one heave at him. Will bless the king. And is not this course pious ? Suf.
I another. Cham. Heaven keep me from such counsel! 'Tis
[Ereunt Norfolk and SUFFELI. most true,
Wol. Your grace has given a precedent of wisdom These news are every where; every tongue speaks them, Above all princes, in committing freely And every true heart weeps for't. All, that dare Your scruple to the voice of Christendom. Look into these affairs, see this main end,
Who can be angry now? what envy reach you! The French king's sister. Heaven will one day open The Spaniard, tied by blood and favour to her,
[Raising his beat
Must now confess, if they have any goodness,
SCENE III.-An Ante-chamber in the Queen's I mean the learned ones, in Christian kingdoms
Apartments. Have their free voices: Rome, the nurse of judg Enter Anne Bullen, and an old Lady. '
ment, Invited by your noble self, hath sent
Anne. Not for that neither :-here's the pang that One general tongue unto us, this good man,
pinches; This just and learned priest, Cardinal Campeius; His highness having liv'd so long with her, and she Whom once more I present unto your highness.
So good a lady, that no tongue could ever K. Hen. And once more in mine arms I bid him Pronounce dishonour of her: by my life, welcome,
She never knew harm-doing,-0! now, after
So many courses of the sun enthron'd,
Sweet at first t' acquire,-after this process,
| To give her the avaunt! it is a pity [Kneeling and rising again. Would move a monster. I tender my commission ; by whose virtue,
Hearts of most hard temper (The court of Rome commanding) you, my lord Melt and lament for her. Cardinal of York, are join'd with me, their servant, Anne.
0, God's will! much better, In the unpartial judging of this business.
She ne'er had known pomp: though it be temporal, K. Hen. Two equal men. The queen shall be ac- Yet, if that cruel fortune do divorce quainted
It from the bearer, 'tis a sufferance panging
Alas, poor lady!
She's a stranger now again? A woman of less place might ask by law,
So much the more Scholars, allow'd freely to argue for her.
Must pity drop upon her. Verily,
And range with humble livers in content,
Is our best having.
By my troth, and maidenhead, you;
I would not be a queen. You are the king's now.
Beshrew me, I would, Gard.
But to be commanded | And venture maidenhead for't; and so would you,
You that have so fair parts of woman on you,
Which, to say sooth, are blessings, and which gifts Wol.
Yes, he was. (Saving your mincing) the capacity Cam. Was he not held a learned man?
Of your soft cheveril conscience would receive, Wol.
Yes, surely. If you might please to stretch it. Cam. Believe me, there's an ill opinion spread, Anne.
Nay, good troth. then,
Old L. Yes, troth, and troth.—You would not be a Even of yourself, lord cardinal.
queen ? Wol.
How! of me?
Anne. No, not for all the riches under heaven. Cam. They will not stick to say, you envied him ; Old L. 'Tis strange: a three-pence bowed would hire And fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous,
me, Kept him a foreign man still; which so griev'd him, Old as I am, to queen it. But, I pray you, That he ran mad, and died.
What think you of a duchess ? have you limbs Wol.
Heaven's peace be with him! | To bear that load of title? That's Christian care enough: for living murmurers Anne.
No, in truth. There's places of rebuke. He was a fool,
Old L. Then you are weakly made. Pluck off a For he would needs be virtuous : that good fellow,
little: If I command him, follows my appointment:
I would not be a young count in your way,
Cannot vouchsafe this burden, 'tis too weak
How you do talk !
For all the world.
| You'd venture an emballing : I myself Would it not grieve an able man, to leave
Would for Carnarvonshire, although there 'long'd So sweet a bedfellow? But, conscience, conscience,- No more to the crown but that. Lo! who comes 0! 'tis a tender place, and I must leave her. (Exeunt. here?
Enter the Lord Chamberlain.
SCENE IV.-A Hall in Black-Friars. Cham. Good morrow, ladies. What were't worth to
Trumpets, Sennet, and Cornets. Enter two Vergers, know
with short silver Wands; next them, two Scribes, in The secret of your conference?
the habit of Doctors; after them, the Archbishop of
My good lord,
CANTERBURY alone ; after him, the Bishops of LINOur mistress' sorrows we were pitying.
COLN, Ely, Rochester, and Saint Asaph; next Cham. It was a gentle business, and becoming
them, with some small distance, follows a Gentleman The action of good women : there is hope
bearing the Purse, with the Great Seal, and a Cardi
nal's Hat; then two Priests, bearing each a silver All will be weil. Anne. Now, I pray God, amen!
Cross ; then a Gentleman-Usher bare-headed, accomCham. You bear a gentle mind, and heavenly blessings
panied with a Sergeant at Arms, bearing a silver Follow such creatures. That you may, fair lady,
Mace; then two Gentlemen, bearing two great silver Perceive I speak sincerely, and high notes
Pillars ; after them, side by side, the two Cardinals Ta'en of your many virtues, the king's majesty
Wolsey and CAMPEIUS ; two Noblemen with the Commends his good opinion of you to you, and
Sword and Mace. The King takes place under the
cloth of state ; the two Cardinals sit under him as Does purpose honour to you, no less flowing Than marchioness of Pembroke; to which title
judges. The Queen takes place at some distance from A thousand pound a year, annual support,
the King. The Bishops place themselves on each side Out of his grace he adds.
the court, in manner of a consistory; below them, the
Scribes. The Lords sit next the Bishops. The rest I do not know, Anne. What kind of my obedience I should tender:
of the Attendants stand in convenient order about the More than my all is nothing ; nor my prayers
stage. Are not words duly hallow'd, nor my wishes
Wol. Whilst our commission from Rome is read, More worth than empty vanities : yet prayers, and Let silence be commanded. wishes,
What's the need ? Are all I can return. Beseech your lordship,
It hath already publicly been read, Vouchsafe to speak my thanks, and my obedience, / And on all sides th' authority allow'd ; As from a blushing handmaid, to bis highness; You may, then, spare that time. Whose health, and royalty, I pray for.
Be't so.-Proceed. | Cham.
Lady, Scribe. Say, Henry king of England, come into the I shall not fail t' improve the fair conceit,
court. The king hath of you.--I have perus’d her well: [Aside. Crier. Henry king of England, &c. Beauty and honour in her are so mingled,
K. Hen. Here. That they have caught the king; and who knows yet, Scribe. Say, Katharine queen of England, come into But from this lady may proceed a gem
the court. To lighten all this isle?- [To her.) I'll to the king, Crier. Katharine, queen of England, &c. And say, I spoke with you.
[The Queen makes no answer, rises out of her chair, Anne. My honour'd lord. [Exit Lord Chamberlain. goes about the court, comes to the King, and Old L. Why, this it is ; see, see !
keneels at his feet; then speaks.] I have been begging sixteen years in court,
Q. Kath. Sir, I desire you, do me right and justice, (Am yet a courtier beggarly) nor could
And to bestow your pity on me; for Come pat betwixt too early and too late
I am a most poor woman, and a stranger, For any suit of pounds; and you, O fate!
Born out of your dominions; having here A very fresh-fish here, (fie, fie, fie upon
No judge indifferent, nor no more assurance
In what have I offended you? what cause
| Hath my behaviour given to your displeasure, Old L. How tastes it? is it bitter? forty pence, no. That thus you should proceed to put me off, There was a lady once, ('tis an old story)
| And take your good grace from me? Heaven witness, That would not be a queen, that would she not, I have been to you a true and humble wife, For all the mud in Egypt:-have you heard it ? At all times to your will conformable; Anne. Come, you are pleasant.
Ever in fear to kindle your dislike, Old L.
With your theme I could Yea, subject to your countenance; glad, or sorry, O'ermount the lark. The marchioness of Pembroke! As I saw it inclin'd. When was the hour A thousand pounds a year for pure respect;
I ever contradicted your desire, No other obligation. By my life,
Or made it not mine too? or which of your friends That promises more thousands : honour's train Have I not strove to love, although I knew Is longer than his foreskirt. By this time,
He were mine enemy? what friend of mine, I know, your back will bear a duchess.-Say,
That had to him deriv'd your anger, did I Are you not stronger than you were ?
Continue in my liking? pay, gave notice Anne.
He was from thence discharg'd. Sir, call to mind Make yourself mirth with your particular fancy, That I have been your wife, in this obedience, And leave me out on't. Would I had no being, Upward of twenty years, and have been blest If this elate my blood a jot: it faints me,
With many children by you : if in the course To think what follows.
And process of this time you can report, The queen is comfortless, and we forgetful
And prove it too, against mine honour aught, In our long absence. Pray, do not deliver
My bond to wedlock, or my love and duty, What here you've heard, to her.
Against your sacred person, in God's name, Old L. What do you think me? [Exeunt. Turn me away; and let the foul'st contempt
Shut door upon me, and so give me up
| Q. Kath.
My lord, my lord, To the sharp'st knife of justice. Please you, sir, I am a simple woman, much too weak The king, your father, was reputed for
To oppose your cunning. Y'are meek, and humbleA prince most prudent, of an excellent
mouth'd ; An unmatch'd wit and judgment: Ferdinand, | You sign your place and calling in full seeming, My father, king of Spain, was reckon'd one
With meekness and humility ; but your heart The wisest prince, that there had reign'd by many Is cramm’d with arrogancy, spleen, and pride. A year before : it is not to be question'd
You have, by fortune and his highness' favours, That they had gather'd a wise council to them
Gone slightly o'er low steps, and now are mounted Of every realm, that did debate this business,
Where powers are your retainers; and your words, Who deem'd our marriage lawful. Wherefore I humbly Domestics to you, serve your will, as't please Beseech you, sir, to spare me, till I may
Yourself pronounce their office. I must tell you, Be by my friends in Spain advis'd, whose counsel You tender more your person's honour, than I will implore : if not, i' the name of God,
Your high profession spiritual; that again Your pleasure be fulfill'd!
I do refuse you for my judge, and here, Wol.
You have here, lady, Before you all, appeal unto the pope, (And of your choice) these reverend fathers; men To bring my whole cause 'fore his holiness, Of singular integrity and learning,
And to be judg'd by him. Yea, the elect o' the land, who are assembled
[She curtsies to the King, and offers to depart. To plead your cause. It shall be therefore bootless,
The queen is obstinate, That longer you defer the court, as well
Stubborn to justice, apt to accuse it, and For your own quiet, as to rectify
| Disdainful to be tried by't: 'tis not well. What is unsettled in the king.
She's going away.
K. Hen. Call her again.
court. And that, without delay, their arguments
Gent. Ush. Madam, you are call'd back. Be now produc'd and heard.
Q. Kath. What need you note it? pray you, keep Q. Kath. Lord cardinal,
your way: To you I speak.
When you are callid, return. Now the Lord help! Wol. Your pleasure, madam ?
They vex me past my patience.-Pray you, pass on. Q. Kath.
Sir, I will not tarry; no, nor ever more,
Upon this business, my appearance make
[Exeunt Queen, and her Attendants. I'll turn to sparks of fire.
Go thy ways, Kate :
That man i' the world who shall report he has
For speaking false in that. Thou art alone Induc'd by potent circumstances, that
(If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness, You are mine enemy, and make my challenge: Thy meekness saint-like, wife-like government, You shall not be my judge; for it is you
Obeying in commanding, and thy parts Have blown this coal betwixt my lord and me, Sovereign and pious else, could speak thee out) Which God's dew quench.—Therefore, I say again, The queen of earthly queens.-She's nobly born; I utterly abhor, yea, from my soul,
And, like her true nobility, she has Refuse you for my judge; whom, yet once more,
Carried herself towards me. I hold my most malicious foe, and think not
Most gracious sir,
In bumblest manner I require your highness,
That it shall please you to declare, in hearing
Of all these ears, (for where I am robb’d and bound,
At once, and fully satisfied) whether ever I
Laid any scruple in your way, which might
Induce you to the question on't? or ever Or how far farther shall, is warranted
Have to you, but with thanks to God for such By a commission from the consistory,
A royal lady, spake one the least word, that might Yea, the whole consistory of Rome. You charge me, Be to the prejudice of her present state, That I have blown this coal: I do deny it.
Or touch of her good person? The king is present: if it be known to him,
My lord cardinal, That I gainsay my deed, how may he wound,
I do excuse you; yea, upon mine honour, And worthily, my falsehood; yea, as much
I free you from't. You are not to be taught As you have done my truth. If he know
That you have many enemies, that know not That I am free of your report, he knows,
Why they are so, but, like to village curs, I am not of your wrong: therefore, in him
Bark when their fellows do: by some of these It lies to cure me; and the cure is, to
The queen is put in anger. Y'are excus'd; Remove these thoughts from you : the which, before But will you be more justified? You ever His highness shall speak in, I do beseech
Have wish'd the sleeping of this business ; never You, gracious madam, to unthink your speaking, Desir'd it to be stirr'd; but oft have hinder'd, oft, And to say so no more.
| The passages made toward it. -On my honour,