Buck.
Good morrow, and well met. How have you done,
Since last we saw in France?

Nor.
I thank your grace:
Healthful; and ever since a^{6 note} fresh admirer
Of what I saw there.

Buck.
An untimely ague
Stay'd me a prisoner in my chamber, when
Those sons of glory, those two lights of men,
Met in the vale of Arde.

Nor.
'Twixt Guines and Arde:
I was then present, saw them salute on horse-back;

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 weigh'd
Such a compounded one?

Buck.
All the whole time
I was my chamber's prisoner.

Nor.
Then you lost
The view of earthly glory: Men might say,
^{7 note}

Made Britain, India: every man, that stood,
Shew'd like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were
As cherubims, 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; ^{1 note}


him in eye,
Still him in praise: and, being present both,
'Twas said, they saw but one; and no discerner
^{2 note}Durst wag his tongue in censure. When these suns,
(For so they phrase 'em) by their heralds challeng'd
The noble spirits to arms, they did perform
Beyond thought's compass; that former fabulous story,
Being now seen possible enough, got credit,
That^{3 note} Bevis was believ'd.

Buck.
Oh, you go far.

Nor.
As I belong to worship, and affect
In honour honesty, ^{4 note}the tract of every thing
Would by a good discourser lose some life,
Which action's self was tongue to. ^{5 note}

To the disposing of it nought rebell'd,
Order gave each thing view; ^{6 note}
the office did
Distinctly his full function.

Buck.
Who did guide,
I mean, who set the body and the limbs
Of this great sport together, as you guess?

Nor.
One, certes, that promises no ^{7 note}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 pye is free'd
From his ambitious finger. What had he
To do in these ^{8 note}

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 propt by ancestry, (whose grace
Chalks successors their way) nor call'd upon
For high feats done to the crown; neither ally'd
To eminent assistants, but, spider-like,
^{1 note}
Out of his self-drawing web, he gives us note,
The force of his own merit makes his way;
^{2 note}

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 that?
If not from hell, the devil is a niggard;
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 ^{3 note}the file
Of all the gentry; for the most part such
Too, whom as great a charge as little honour
He meant to lay upon: and his own letter,
The honourable board of ^{4 note}

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^{6 note}






. ^{7 note}
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.
^{8 note}
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, aboaded
The sudden breach on't.

Nor.
Which is budded out;
For France hath flaw'd the league, and hath attach'd
Our merchants' good at Bourdeaux.

Aber.
Is it therefore
^{9 note}

Nor.
Marry, is't.

Aber.
^{1 note}A proper title of a peace; and purchas'd
At a superfluous rate!

Buck.
Why, all this business
Our reverend cardinal carry'd.

Nor.
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, it may be said,
It reaches far; and where 'twill not extend,
Thither he darts it. Bosom up my counsel,
You'll find it wholesome. Lo, where ^{2 note}comes that rock,
That I advise your shunning. 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.

Wol.
The duke of Buckingham's surveyor? ha?
Where's his examination?

Secr.
Here, so please you.

Wol.
Is he in person ready?

Secr.
Ay, please your grace.

Wol.
Well, we shall then know more; and Buckingham
Shall lessen this big look. [Exeunt Cardinal, and his train.

Buck.
This ^{3 note}

Have not the power to muzzle him; therefore, best
Not wake him in his slumber. ^{4 note}
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
^{5 note}

Nor.
Stay, my lord,
And let your reason with your choler question
What 'tis you go about: To climb steep hills,
Requires slow pace at first: Anger is like^{6 note}

Buck.
I'll to the king;
And ^{7 note}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^{8 note} for your foe so hot
That it do singe yourself: We may out-run,
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 ^{9 note}
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't: ^{1 note}
his mind and place

Infecting one another, yea, reciprocally)
Only to shew his pomp as well in France
As here at home, ^{2 note}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 cardinal
The articles o' the combination drew,
As himself pleas'd; and they were ratify'd,
As he cry'd, Thus let be: to as much end,
As give a crutch to the dead: But our court cardinal^{3 note}

(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. Enter Brandon; a Serjeant at arms before him, and two or three of the guard.

Bran.
Your office, serjeant; execute it.

Serj.
Sir,
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.
Lo you, my lord,
The net has fallen upon me; I shall perish
Under device and practice.

Bran.
^{4 note}

I am sorry
To see you ta'en from liberty, to look on
The business present: 'Tis his highness' pleasure,
You shall to the Tower.

Buck.
It will help me nothing,
To plead mine innocence; for that dye is on me,
Which makes my whitest part black. The will of heaven
Be done in this and all things!—I obey—.
O my lord Aberga'ny, fare you well.

Bran.
Nay, he must bear you company:—The king [To Aberg.
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 Court^{5 note},
^{6 note}

Buck.
So, so;
These are the limbs of the plot: No more, I hope.

Bran.
A monk o' the Chartreux.

Buck.
O, ^{7 note}Nicholas Hopkins?

Bran.
He.

Buck.
My surveyor is false; the o'er-great cardinal
Hath shew'd him gold: ^{8 note}my life is spann'd already:
I am the shadow of poor Buckingham^{9 note}