King.
My life itself, ^{4 note}

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. A 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.

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 yourself, 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 'scapes 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

^{6 note}
The many to them 'longing, have put off
The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers; who,
Unfit for other life, compell'd by hunger
^{7 note}

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 aught
Pertains to th' state, ^{9 note}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 wholsome
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 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 its come to pass,
That tractable obedience is a slave
To each incensed will. I would, your Highness
Would give it quick consideration, for
^{1 note}

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
^{2 note}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,
^{3 note}

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

^{5 note}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.

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