Enter a Messenger.

What says lord Stanley? will he bring his power?
Mess. My lord, he doth deny to come.
K. Rich. Off with his son George's head!
Nor. My lord, the enemy is pass'd the marsh;
After the battle let George Stanley die.

K. Rich. A thousand hearts are great within my
Advance our standards, set upon our foes; [bosom:
Our ancient word of courage, fair Saint George,
Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons!
Upon them! Victory sits on our helms.

[Exeunt. SCENE IV.-Another Part of the Field. Alarum: Excursions. Enter Norfolk and Forces; to him Catesby.

Cate. Rescue, my lord of Norfolk, rescue, rescue! The king enacts more wonders than a man, Daring an opposite to every danger; His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights, Seeking for Richmond in the throat of death: Rescue, fair lord, or else the day is lost!

Alarum. Enter King Richard.

K. Rich. A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a

horse!

Cate. Withdraw, my lord, I 'll help you to a horse. K. Rich. Slave, I have set my life upon a cast, And I will stand the hazard of the die: I think there be six Richmonds in the field; Five have I slain to-day, instead of him:

A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse! [Exe. Alarums. Enter King Richard and Richmond; they fight; Richard is slain.

Retreat and flourish. Then enter Richmond, Stanley bearing the crown, with divers other Lords, and Forces.

Richm. God, and your arms, be prais'd, victorious friends;

The day is ours, the bloody dog is dead.

[thee!

Stan. Courageous Richmond, well hast thou acquit
Lo, here, these long-usurped royalties,
From the dead temples of this bloody wretch
Have I pluck'd off, to grace thy brows withal;
Wear it, endure it, make much of it.
Richm. Great God of heaven, say, amen, to all!
But, tell me, is young George Stanley living?
Stan. He is, my lord, and safe in Leicester town;
Whither, if you please, we may withdraw us.
Richm. What men of name are slain on either side?
Stan. John duke of Norfolk, Walter lord Ferrers,
Sir Robert Brakenbury, and sir William Brandon.
Richm. Inter their bodies as becomes their births.
Proclaim a pardon to the soldiers fled
That in submission will return to us;
We will unite the white rose and the red:
And then, as we have ta'en the sacrament,
Smile heaven upon this fair conjunction,
That long hath frown'd upon their enmity!
What traitor hears me, and says not amen?
England hath long been mad, and scarr'd herself;
The brother blindly shed the brother's blood,
The father rashly slaughter'd his own son,
The son, compell'd, been butcher to the sire;
All this divided York and Lancaster,
Divided in their dire division.

O, now let Richmond and Elizabeth,
The true succeeders of each royal house,
By God's fair ordinance conjoin together!
And let their heirs, (God, if thy will be so,)
Enrich the time to come with smooth-fac'd peace,
Abate the edge of traitors, gracious Lord,
With smiling plenty, and fair prosperous days!
That would reduce these bloody days again,
And make poor England weep in streams of blood!
Let them not live to taste this land's increase,
That would with treason wound this fair land's peace!
Now civil wounds are stopp'd, peace lives again;
That she may long live here, God say-Amen!

[Exeunt.

QUEEN KATHARINE, wife to King Henry, afterwards di vorced.

ANNE BULLEN, her Maid of
Honour, afterwards Queen.
An old Lady, friend to Anne
Bullen.

I come no more to make you laugh; things now, That bear a weighty and a serious brow, Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe, Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow, We now present. Those that can pity, here May, if they think it well, let fall a tear; The subject will deserve it. Such as give Their money out of hope they may believe, May here find truth too. Those that come to see Only a show or two, and so agree

Katharine.

The play may pass, if they be still and willing,
I'll undertake may see away their shilling
Richly in two short hours. Only they
That come to hear a merry, bawdy play,
A noise of targets; or to see a fellow
In a long motley coat, guarded with yellow,
Will be deceived: for, gentle hearers, know,
To rank our chosen truth with such a show
As fool and fight is, beside forfeiting
Our own brains, and the opinion that we bring,
(To make that only true we now intend,)
Will leave us never an understanding friend.

As they were living; think, you see them great,
And follow'd with the general throng and sweat
Of thousand friends; then in a moment see
How soon this mightiness meets misery!
And if you can be merry then, I'll say
A man may weep upon his wedding-day.

ACT I.

SCENE I.-London. An Ante-chamber in the Palace.

Enter the Duke of Norfolk, at one door; at the other, the Duke of Buckingham, and the Lord Abergavenny.

Buck. Good morrow, and well met. How have you
Since last we saw in France?
[done,
Nor.
I thank your grace:
Healthful; and ever since a fresh admirer
Of what I saw there. Buck. An untimely ague
Stay'd me a prisoner in my chamber, when
Those suns of glory, those two lights of men,
Met in the vale of Andren.
Nor.

'Twixt Guynes and Arde:
I was then present, saw them salute on horseback;
Beheld them, when they lighted, how they clung
In their embracement as they grew together;
Which had they, what four thron'd ones could have
Such a compounded one?
[weigh'd
Buck.

All the whole time I was my chamber's prisoner. Nor. Then you lost The view of earthly glory: Men might say, Till this time pomp was single, but now married To one above itself. Each following day Became the next day's master, till the last Made former wonders its: To-day, the French, All clinquant, all in gold, like heathen gods, Shone down the English; and, to-morrow, they Made Britain, India: every man that stood Show'd like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were As cherubins, all gilt: the madams too, Not us'd to toil, did almost sweat to bear The pride upon them, that their very labour Was to them as a painting: Now this mask Was cry'd incomparable; and the ensuing night Made it a fool, and beggar. The two kings, Equal in lustre, were now best, now worst, As presence did present them; him in eye Still him in praise: and, being present both, 'T was said they saw but one; and no discerner Durst wag his tongue in censure. When these suns (For so they phrase them) by their heralds chalThe noble spirits to arms, they did perform [leng'd Beyond thought's compass; that former fabulous Being now seen possible enough, got credit, [story, That Bevis was believ'd. Buck. O, you go far. Nor. As I belong to worship, and affect In honour honesty, the tract of everything Would by a good discourser lose some life, Which action's self was tongue to.

Buck.

All was royal; To the disposing of it nought rebell'd, Order gave each thing view; the office did Distinctly his full function. Who did guide? I mean, who set the body and the limbs Of this great sport together? Nor. As you guess: One, certes, that promises no element In such a business.

Buck. I pray you, who, my lord? Nor. All this was order'd by the good discretion Of the right reverend cardinal of York. Buck. The devil speed him! no man's pie is freed From his ambitious finger. What had he To do in these fierce vanities? I wonder That such a keech can with his very bulk Take up the rays o' the beneficial sun, And keep it from the earth. Nor. Surely, sir, There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends: For, being not propp'd by ancestry, whose grace Chalks successors their way; nor call'd upon For high feats done to the crown; neither allied To eminent assistants; but, spider-like,

The force of his own merit makes his way
A gift that heaven gives for him, which buys
A place next to the king. Aber. I cannot tell
What heaven hath given him; let some graver eye
Pierce into that; but I can see his pride
Peep through each part of him: Whence has he
If not from hell-the devil is a niggard, [that?
Or has given all before, and he begins
A new hell in himself. Buck. Why the devil,
Upon this French going-out, took he upon him,
Without the privity o' the king, to appoint
Who should attend on him? He makes up the file
Of all the gentry; for the most part such
He meant to lay upon: and his own letter,
To whom as great a charge as little honour
(The honourable board of council out,)
Must fetch him in he papers.
Aber. I do know
Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that have
By this so sicken'd their estates, that never
They shall abound as formerly.
Buck. O, many
Have broke their backs with laying manors on them
For this great journey. What did this vanity,
But minister communication of

A most poor issue? Nor. Grievingly I think,
The peace between the French and us not values
The cost that did conclude it. Buck. Every man,
After the hideous storm that follow'd, was
A thing inspir'd; and, not consulting, broke
Into a general prophecy, That this tempest,
Dashing the garment of this peace, aboded
The sudden breach on 't.

Nor.

Which is budded out; For France hath flaw'd the league, and hath attach'd Our merchants' goods at Bourdeaux. Aber.

Nvor.

Is it therefore
The ambassador is silenc'd? Nor. Marry, is 't.
Aber. A proper title of a peace; and purchas'd
At a superfluous rate! Buck. Why, all this business
Our reverend cardinal carried.
'Like it your grace,
The state takes notice of the private difference
Betwixt you and the cardinal. I advise you,
(And take it from a heart that wishes towards you
Honour and plenteous safety,) that you read
The cardinal's malice and his potency
Together: to consider further, that

What his high hatred would effect wants not
A minister in his power: You know his nature,
That he's revengeful; and I know his sword
Hath a sharp edge: it's long, and 't may be said,
It reaches far; and where 't will not extend,
Thither he darts it. Bosom up my counsel,
You 'll find it wholesome. Lo, where comes that
That I advise your shunning.
[rock

Enter Cardinal Wolsey, (the purse borne before him,) certain of the Guard, and two Secretaries with papers. The Cardinal in his passage fixeth his eye on Buckingham, and Buckingham on him, both full of disdain.

I Secr.

Wol. The duke of Buckingham's surveyor? ha?
Where's his examination?
Here, so please you.
Wol. Is he in person ready?
I Secr.
Ay, please your grace.
Wol. Well, we shall then know more; and Buck-
Shall lessen this big look.

[ingham
[Exeunt Wolsey, and Train.
Buck. This butcher's cur is venom-mouth'd, and I
Have not the power to muzzle him; therefore, best
Not wake hini in his slumber. A beggar's book
Out-worths a noble's blood.
Nor.
What, are you chaf'd?
Ask God for temperance; that's the appliance only
Which your disease requires.
Buck.
I read in his looks

Matter against me; and his eye revil'd
Me, as his abject object: at this instant
He bores me with some trick: he's gone to the king;
I'll follow, and out-stare him.

Nor.
Stay, my lord,
And let your reason with your choler question
What 't is you go about: To climb steep hills
Requires slow pace at first: Anger is like
A full-hot horse; who being allow'd his way,

Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England
Can advise me like you: be to yourself
As you would to your friend.
Buck.
I'll to the king:
And from a mouth of honour quite cry down
This Ipswich fellow's insolence; or proclaim
There's difference in no persons.

Nor.

Be advis'd.
Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot
That it do singe yourself: We may outrun,
By violent swiftness, that which we run at,
And lose by over-running. Know you not
The fire that mounts the liquor till it run o'er,
In seeming to augment it, wastes it? Be advis'd:
I say again, there is no English soul

More stronger to direct you than yourself;
If with the sap of reason you would quench,
Or but allay, the fire of passion.

Buck. Sir,

I am thankful to you: and I'll go along
By your prescription :-but this top-proud fellow,
(Whom from the flow of gall I name not, but
From sincere motions,) by intelligence,
And proofs as clear as founts in July, when
We see each grain of gravel, I do know
To be corrupt and treasonous.
Nor.

Say not treasonous. Buck. To the king I'll say 't; and make my vouch as strong

As shore of rock. Attend. This holy fox,
Or wolf, or both, (for he is equal ravenous
As he is subtle; and as prone to mischief
As able to perform it: his mind and place
Infecting one another, yea, reciprocally,)
Only to show his pomp as well in France
As here at home, suggests the king our master
To this last costly treaty, the interview,
That swallow'd so much treasure, and like a glass
Did break i' the rinsing.

Nor.

'Faith, and so it did.

Buck. Pray, give me favour, sir. This cunning car-
The articles o' the combination drew
dinal
As himself pleas'd; and they were ratified,
As he cried, Thus let it be: to as much end [dinal
As give a crutch to the dead: But our count-car-
Has done this, and 't is well; for worthy Wolsey,
Who cannot err, he did it. Now this follows,
(Which, as I take it, is a kind of puppy

To the old dam, treason,)-Charles the emperor,
Under pretence to see the queen his aunt,
(For 't was, indeed, his colour; but he came
To whisper Wolsey,) here makes visitation:
His fears were, that the interview betwixt
England and France might, through their amity,
Breed him some prejudice; for from this league,
Peep'd harms that menac'd him: He privily
Deals with our cardinal; and, as I trow,---
Which I do well; for I am sure the emperor
Paid ere he promis'd; whereby his suit was granted
Ere it was asked;-but when the way was made,
And pav'd with gold, the emperor thus desir'd,
That he would please to alter the king's course,
And break the foresaid peace. Let the king know,
(As soon he shall by me,) that thus the cardinal
Does buy and sell his honour as he pleases,
And for his own advantage. Nor. I am sorry
To hear this of him; and could wish he were
Something mistaken in 't.

Buck.

No, not a syllable;

I do pronounce him in that very shape

He shall appear in proof.

To plead mine innocence; for that dye is on me,
Which makes my whitest part black. The will of
Be done in this and all things!-I obey.- [heaven
O my lord Aberga'ny, fare you well.
Bran. Nay, he must bear you company:-The
king
[To Abergavenny.

Is pleas'd you shall to the Tower, till you know
How he determines further.

Aber.
As the duke said,
The will of heaven be done, and the king's pleasure
By me obey'd. Bran. Here is a warrant from
The king, to attach lord Montacute; and the bodies
Of the duke's confessor, John de la Car,
One Gilbert Peck, his chancellor,-

Buck.

So, so;

These are the limbs of the plot: no more, I hope.
Bran. A monk o' the Chartreux.
Buck. O, Michael Hopkins?

Bran. He. Buck. My surveyor is false; the o'er-great car

dinal

Hath show'd him gold: my life is spann'd already :
I am the shadow of poor Buckingham;
Whose figure even this instant cloud puts on,
By dark'ning my clear sun.-My lords, farewell.
[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-The Council-Chamber. Cornets. Enter King Henry, Cardinal Wolsey, the Lords of the Council, Sir Thomas Lovell, Officers, and Attendants. The King enters, leaning on the Cardinal's shoulder.

K. Hen. My life itself, and the best heart of it,
Thanks you for this great care: I stood i' the level
Of a full-charg'd confederacy, and give thanks
To you that chok'd it.-Let be call'd before us
That gentleman of Buckingham's: in person
I'll hear him his confessions justify:

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

The King takes his State. The Lords of the Council take their several places. The Cardinal places himself under the King's feet, on his right side.

noise within, crying, Room for the Queen! Enter the Queen, ushered by the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk: she kneels. The King riseth from his State, takes her up, kisses, and placeth her by him.

Q. Kath. Nay, we must longer kneel; I am a suitor.
K. Hen. Arise, and take place by us :-Half your
Never name to us; you have half our power; [suit
The other moiety, ere you ask, is given;
Repeat your will, and take it.
Q. Kath.
Thank your majesty.
That you would love yourself, and, in that love,
Not unconsider'd leave your honour, nor
The dignity of your office, is the point
Of my petition. K. Hen. Lady mine, proceed.
Q. Kath. I am solicited, not by a few,
And those of true condition, that your subjects
Are in great grievance: there have been commis-
sions

Sent down among them, which have flaw'd the heart
Of all their loyalties:-wherein, although,
My good lord cardinal, they vent reproaches
Most bitterly on you, as putter-on

Of these exactions, yet the king our master,
(Whose honour heaven shield from soil!) even he
escapes not

Language unmannerly, yea, such which breaks
The sides of loyalty, and almost appears

and two or three of the Guard.

Bran. Your office, sergeant; execute it.
Serg.

My lord the duke of Buckingham, and earl
Of Hereford, Stafford, and Northampton, I
Arrest thee of high treason, in the name
Of our most sovereign king.
Buck.

Sir,

Lo you, my lord, The net has fallen upon me; I shall perish Under device and practice. Bran. I am sorry To see you ta'en from liberty, to look on The business present: 'T is his highness' pleasure, You shall to the Tower. Buck.

It will help me nothing

It doth appear: for, upon these taxations,
The clothiers all, not able to maintain
The many to them 'longing, have put off
The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers, who,
Unfit for other life, compell'd by hunger,
And lack of other means, in desperate manner
Daring the event to the teeth, are all in uproar,
And Danger serves among them.

K. Hen.

Taxation! Wherein? and what taxation?-My lord cardinal, You that are blam'd for it alike with us, Know you of this taxation? Wol.

Please you, sir, I know but of a single part, in aught

To those which would not know them, and yet must
Perforce be their acquaintance. These exactions
Whereof my sovereign would have note, they are
Most pestilent to the hearing; and to bear them
The back is sacrifice to the load. They say
They are devis'd by you; or else you suder
Too hard anexclamation. K. Hen. Still exaction!
îne nature of it? In what kind, let 's know,
Is this exaction?
Q. Kath.
In tempting of your patience; but am bolden'd
Under your promis'd pardon. The subject's grief
Comes through commissions, which compel from
The sixth part of his substance, to be levied [each
Without delay; and the pretence for this [mouths;
Is nani'd, your wars in France: This makes bold
Tongues spit their duties out; and cold hearts freeze
Allegiance in them; their curses now

I am much too venturous

Live where their prayers did; and it's come to pass,
This tractable obedience is a slave
To each incensed will. I would your highness
Would give it quick consideration, for
There is no primer baseness.
This is against our pleasure.

K. Hen. By my life,

Wol. And for me,

If I am

I have no further gone in this, than by
A single voice; and that not pass'd me, but
By learned approbation of the judges.
Traduc'd by ignorant tongues, which neither know
My faculties, nor person, yet will be
The chronicles of my doing,-let me say
'T is but the fate of place, and the rough brake
That virtue must go through. We must not stint
Our necessary actions, in the fear

To cope malicious censurers; which ever,
As ravenous fishes, do a vessel follow

That is new-trimm'd; but benefit no further
Than vainly longing. What we oft do best,
By sick interpreters, once weak ones, is
Not ours, or not allow'd; what worst, as oft
Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up
For our best act. If we shall stand still,
In fear our motion will be mock'd or carp'd at,
We should take root here where we sit, or sit
State statues only. K. Hen. Things done well,
And with a care, exempt themselves from fear;
Things done without example, in their issue
Are to be fear'd. Have you a precedent
Of this commission? I believe not any.
We must not rend our subjects from our laws,
And stick them in our will. Sixth part of each?
A trembling contribution! Why, we take
From every tree, lop, bark, and part o the timber;
And, though we leave it with a root, thus hack'd
The air will drink the sap. To every county
Where this is question'd, send our letters, with
Free pardon to each man that has denied
The force of this commission: Pray, look to 't;
I put it to your care. Wol. A word with you.
[To the Secretary.
Let there be letters writ to every shire,
Of the king's grace and pardon. The griev'd com-
Hardly conceive of me; let it be nois'd, [mons
That through our intercession this revokement
And pardon comes: I shall anon advise you
Further in the proceeding. [Exit Secretary.

Enter Surveyor.
Q. Kath. I am sorry that the duke of Buckingham
Is run in your displeasure.
K. Hen.
It grieves many:
The gentleman is learn'd, and a most rare speaker,
To nature none more bound; his training such
That he may furnish and instruct great teachers,
And never seek for aid out of himself. Yet see
When these so noble benefits shall prove
Not well dispos'd, the mind growing once corrupt,
They turn to vicious forms, ten times more ugly
Than ever they were fair. This man so complete,
Who was enroll'd 'mongst wonders, and when we,
Almost with ravish'd list'ning, could not find

His hour of speech a minute; he, my lady,
Hath into monstrous habits put the graces
That once were his, and is become as black
As if besmear'd in hell. Sit by us; you shall hear
(This was his gentleman in trust) of him
Things to strike honour sad.-Bid him recount
The fore-recited practices; whereof
We cannot feel too little, hear too much.
Wol. Stand forth; and with bold spirit relate what
Most like a careful subject, have collected
[you,
Out of the duke of Buckingham.
K. Hen.
Speak freely.
Surv. First, it was usual with him, every day
It would infect his speech, That if the king
Should without issue die, he 'll carry it so
To make the sceptre his: These very words
I have heard him utter to his son-in-law,
Lord Aberga'ny; to whom by oath he menac'd
Revenge upon the cardinal.

Wol.

Please your highness, note This dangerous conception in this point. Not friended by his wish, to your high person His will is most malignant; and it stretches Beyond you, to your friends. Q. Kath.

My learn'd lord cardinal, Deliver all with charity. K. Hen. Speak on: How grounded he his title to the crown, Upon our fail? to this point hast thou heard him At any time speak aught?

Surv.

He was brought to this

The duke being at the Rose, within the parish
Saint Lawrence Poultney, did of me demand
What was the speech among the Londoners
Concerning the French journey: I replied,
Men fear'd the French would prove perfidious,
To the king's danger. Presently the duke
Said, 'T was the fear, indeed; and that he doubted
'T would prove the verity of certain words
Spoke by a holy monk: that oft,' says he,
Hath sent to me, wishing me to permit
John de la Car, my chaplain, a choice hour
To hear from him a matter of some moment:
Whom after under the confession's seal
He solemnly had sworn, that, what he spoke,
My chaplain to no creature living, but
To me, should utter, with demure confidence,
This pausingly ensued-Neither the king, nor his
heirs,

(Tell you the duke) shall prosper: bid him strive
To gain the love of the commonalty; the duke
Shall govern England.'
Q. Kath.
If I know you well,
You were the duke's surveyor, and lost your office
On the complaint o' the tenants: Take good heed
You charge not in your spleen a noble person,
And spoil your nobler soul! I say, take heed:
Yes, heartily beseech you.

K. Hen.

Go forward.

Let him on :

Surv. On my soul, I'll speak but truth. I told my lord the duke, by the devil's illusions The monk might be deceiv'd; and that 't was dan gerous for him

To ruminate on this so far, until

It forg'd him some design, which, being believ'd,
It was much like to do: He answer'd, Tush!
It can do me no damage:' adding further,
That had the king in his last sickness fail'd,
The cardinal's and sir Thomas Lovell's heads
Should have gone off.
K. Hen.
Ha! what so rank? Ah, ha!
There 's mischief in this man: Canst thou say
Surv. I can, my liege.
[further?

K. Ken. Proceed. Surv. Being at Greenwich,
After your highness had reprov'd the duke
About sir William Blomer,-

K. Hen.

I remember

Of such a time-Being my sworn servant,