King.
My life it self, and the best heart of it,
Thanks you for this great care: I stood i'th level
Of a full-charg'd confed'racy, and give thanks
To you that choak'd it. Let be call'd before us
That gentleman of Buckingham's in person;
I'll hear him his confessions justifie,
And point by point the treasons of his master
He shall again relate. A noise within, crying, Room for the Queen. Enter the Queen usher'd by the Duke of Norfolk, and Suffolk; she kneels. The King riseth from his state, takes her up, kisses and placeth her by him.

Queen.
Nay, we must longer kneel; I am a suitor.

King.
Arise, and take your place by us; half your suit
Never name to us; you have half our power:
The other moiety, ere you ask, is given;
Repeat your will, and take it.

Queen.
Thank your Majesty.

That you would love your self, and in that love
Not unconsider'd leave your honour, nor
The dignity of your office, is the point
Of my petition.

King.
Lady mine, proceed.

Queen.
I am sollicited, not by a few,
And those of true condition, that your subjects
Are in great grievance. There have been commissions
Sent down among 'em, which have flaw'd the heart
Of all their loyalties; wherein although [To Wolsey.
(My good lord Cardinal) they vent reproaches
Most bitterly on you, as putter on
Of these exactions; yet the King our master
(Whose honour heav'n shield from soil) ev'n he escapes not
Language unmannerly; yea such, which breaks
The sides of loyalty, and almost appears
In loud rebellion.

Nor.
Not almost appears,
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 desp'rate manner
Daring th' event to th' teeth, are all in uproar,
And danger serves among them.

King.
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 ought
Pertains to th' state, and front but in that file
Where others tell steps with me.

Queen.
No, my lord,
You know no more than others: but you frame
Things that are known alike, which are not wholesome
To those which would not know them, and yet must
Perforce be their acquaintance. These exactions
(Whereof my Sov'raign would have note) they are

Most pestilent to th' hearing; and, to bear 'em,
The back is sacrifice to th' load; they say,
They are devis'd by you, or else you suffer
Too hard an exclamation.

King.
Still, exaction!
The nature of it, in what kind let's know
Is this exaction?

Queen.
I am much too vent'rous
In tempting of your patience, but am bolden'd
Under your promis'd pardon. The subjects grief
Comes through commissions, which compel from each
The sixth part of his substance, to be levy'd
Without delay; and the pretence for this
Is nam'd, your wars in France. This makes bold mouths;
Tongues spit their duties out, and cold hearts freeze
Allegiance in them; All their curses now
Live where their pray'rs did; and it's come to pass,
That tractable obedience is a slave
To each incensed will. I would, your Highness
Would give it quick consideration, for
There is no primer baseness.

King.
By my life,
This is against our pleasure.

Wol.
And for me,
I have no further gone in this, than by
A single voice; and that not past me, but
By learned approbation of the judges.
If I'm traduc'd by tongues, which neither know
My faculties, nor person; yet will be
The chronicles of my doing; let me say,
'Tis 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 rav'nous 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, or weak ones, is
Not ours, or not allow'd: what worst, as oft
Hitting a grosser quality, is cry'd up

For our best act: if we stand still, in fear
Our motion will be mock'd or carped at,
We should take root here where we sit:
Or sit state-statues only.

King.
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 ev'ry tree, lop, bark, and part o'th' timber:
And though we leave it with a root, thus hackt,
The air will drink the sap. To ev'ry county,
Where this is question'd, send our letters, with
Free pardon to each man that has deny'd
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 ev'ry shire,
Of the King's grace and pardon: The griev'd commons
Hardly conceive of me, let it be nois'd,
That, through our intercession, this revokement
And pardon comes; I shall anon advise you
Further in the proceeding. [Exit Secretary. Enter Surveyor.

Queen.
I'm sorry that the Duke of Buckingham
Is run in your displeasure.

King.
It grieves many;
The gentleman is learn'd, 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 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 compleat,
Who was enroll'd 'mongst wonders, and when we,

Almost with list'ning ravish'd, 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, 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 you,
Most like a careful subject, have collected
Out of the Duke of Buckingham.

King.
Speak freely.

Surv.
First, it was usual with him, ev'ry day
It would infect his speech, that if the King
Should without issue die, he'd carry't so
To make the scepter his. These very words
I've 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
His 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.

Queen.
My learn'd lord Cardinal,
Deliver all with charity.

King.
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,
By a vain prophecie of Nicholas Hopkins.(7) ^note

King.
What was that Hopkins?

Surv.
Sir, a Chartreux Friar,
His confessor, who fed him ev'ry minute
With words of Sov'reignty.

King.
How know'st thou this?

Surv.
Not long before your Highness sped to France,
The Duke being at the Rose, within the parish
St. Lawrence Poultney, did of me demand
What was the speech among the Londoners
Concerning the French journey? I reply'd,
Men fear'd the French would prove perfidious,
To the King's danger: presently the Duke
Said, 'twas the fear, indeed; and that he doubted,
'Twould 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(8) ^note

He solemnly had sworn, that, what he spoke,
My chaplain to no creature living, but
To me, should utter; with demure confidence,
This pausingly ensu'd;—Neither the King, nor's heirs
(Tell you the Duke) shall prosper; bid him strive
To gain the love o'th' commonalty; the Duke
Shall govern England.—

Queen.
If I know you well,
You were the Duke's surveyor, and lost your office
On the complaint o'th' tenants; take good heed,

You charge not in your spleen a noble person,
And spoil your nobler soul: I say, take heed;(9) ^note
Yes, heartily I beseech you.

King,
Let him on.
Go forward.

Surv.
On my soul, I'll speak but truth.
I told my lord the Duke, by th' devil's illusions
The Monk might be deceiv'd, and that 'twas dang'rous
For him to ruminate on this, 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.

King.
Ha! what, so rank? ah ha—
There's mischief in this man; canst thou say further?

Surv.
I can, my Liege.

King.
Proceed.

Surv.
Being at Greenwich,
After your Highness had reprov'd the Duke
About Sir William Blomer—

King.
I remember
Of such a time, he being my sworn servant,
The Duke retain'd him his. But on; what hence?

Surv.
If, quoth he, I for this had been committed,
As to the Tower, I thought; I would have plaid
The part my father meant to act upon
Th' usurper Richard, who being at Salisbury,
Made suit to come in's presence; which, if granted,
(As he made semblance of his duty) would
Have put his knife into him.

King.
A giant traitor!

Wol.
Now, Madam, may his Highness live in freedom,
And this man out of prison?

Queen.
God mend all!

King.
There's something more would out of thee; what say'st?

Surv.
After the Duke his father with the knife,—
He 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 tenour
Was, were he evil us'd, he would out-go
His father, by as much as a performance
Does an irresolute purpose.

King.
There's his period,
To sheath his knife in us; he is attach'd,
Call him to present tryal; if he may
Find mercy in the Law, 'tis his; if none,
Let him not seek't of us: by day and night,
He's traitor to the height. [Exeunt.

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