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

1 Secr.
Here, so please you.

Wol.
Is he in person ready?

1 Secr.
Ay, please your grace.

Wol.
Well, we shall then know more; and Buckingham
Shall lessen this big look [Exeunt Wolsey and train, R.H. March repeated.

Buck.
This butcher's cur is venom-mouth'd, and I
Have not the power to muzzle him. 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 'tis you go about.

Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot
That it do singe yourself. Be advis'd.

Buck.
Sir,
I am thankful to you; and I'll go along
By your prescription:—but this top-proud fellow,
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):
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'th' rinsing.

Nor.
'Faith, and so it did.

Buck.
Pray, give me favour, sir. This cunning cardinal
The articles o'th' combination drew,
As himself pleas'd; and they were ratified,
As he cried, Thus let be. Now this follows,
(Which, as I take it, is a kind of puppy
To th' old dam, treason)—Charles the emperor,
Under pretence to see the queen his aunt,
(For 'twas, 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. He privily
Deals with our cardinal; 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. Enter Brandon, R.H., a Sergeant at Arms, and eight of the King's Guard.

Bran.
Your office, Sergeant; execute it.

Serg.
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 fall'n upon me; I shall perish
Under device and practice.

Bran.
I am sorry
To see you ta'en from liberty. 'Tis his highness' pleasure,
You shall to th' Tower.

Buck.
It will help me nothing,
To plead mine innocence; for that die 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 Abergavenny.
Is pleas'd, you shall to th' 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.
I have a warrant from
The king, to attach Lord Montacute; and the bodies
Of the duke's confessor, John de la Court,
One Gilbert Peck, his chancellor,—

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

Bran.
A monk o'th' Chartreux.

Buck.
O, Nicholas Hopkins?

Bran.
He.

Buck.
My surveyor is false; the o'er-great cardinal
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 lord, farewell.* ^note [Exeunt Buckingham, Abergavenny, Brandon, and Guards, L.H. Norfolk, R.H. SCENE II. —THE COUNCIL-CHAMBER.† ^note Flourish of Trumpets—Bishops Judges, and Lords of the Privy Council discovered. Enter, L.H., four Mace Bearers, Lord Chamberlain, King and Wolsey, Lovell and Guildford, two Secretaries. 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' th' 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—[Exit Guildford, L.H.] 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. A noise within, crying, Room for the Queen. Enter the Queen, ushered by the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, and Guildford: she kneels. The King riseth from his state, takes her up, and placeth her by him.

K. Hen.
Arise.

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

K. Hen.
Arise, and take 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.

Q. Kath.
Thank your majesty.
That you would love yourself; and, in that love,
Not unconsidered 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 commissions
Sent down among them, which hath 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
In loud rebellion.

Nor. (rising)
Not almost appears,
It doth appear: for, upon these taxations.
The clothiers all, not able to maintain
The many to them 'longing, compell'd by hunger,
And lack of other means, 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
Pertains to th' state; and front but in that file
Where others tell steps with me.

Q. Kath.
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 sovereign would have note, they are
Most pestilent to th' hearing; and, to bear them,
The back is sacrifice to th' load. They say,
They are devis'd by you; or else you suffer
Too hard an exclamation.

K. Hen.
Still exaction!
The nature of it? In what kind, let's know,
Is this exaction?

Q. Kath.
I am much too venturous
In tempting of your patience; but am bolden'd
Under your promis'd pardon. The subject's grief
Comes through commissions, which compel from each
The sixth part of his substance, to be levied
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; their curses now
Live where their prayers did; I would your highness
Would give it quick consideration.

K. Hen.
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 pass'd me, but
By learned approbation of the judges.
If I am traduc'd by ignorant 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. 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' th' timber.
And, though we leave it with a root, thus hack'd,
The air will drink the sap. Top 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 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, L.H.

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;
Yet 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. Enter Surveyor,* ^note L.H., followed by two Gentlemen.
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 you,
Most like a careful subject, have collected
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'd carry it so
To make the scepter 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
By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Hopkins,
His confessor; who fed him every minute
With words of sovereignty.
Neither the king, nor his heirs
(Tell you the duke, said he,) 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' th' tenants: Take good heed,
You charge not in your spleen a noble person,
And spoil your nobler soul! I say, take heed.

K. Hen.
Go forward.

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 'was dang'rous for him,
To ruminate on this: 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:—Cans't thou say further?

Surv.
I can, my liege.

K. Hen.
Proceed.

Surv.
Being at Greenwich,
After your highness had reproved the duke
About Sir William Blomer,—

K. Hen.
I remember,
Of such a time:—Being my servant sworn,
The duke retained 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 play'd
The part my father meant to act upon
Th' usurper Richard: who, being at Salisbury,
Made suit to come in his presence; which if granted,
As he made semblance of his duty, would
Have put his knife into him.

K. Hen.
A giant traitor!

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

Q. Kath.
Heaven mend all!

K. Hen.
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 his breast, mounting his eyes,
He did discharge a horrible oath; whose tenour
Was,—Where he evil us'd, he would out-go
His father, by as much as a performance
Does an irresolute purpose.

K. Hen.
There's his period,
To sheath his knife in us. He is attach'd;
Call him to present trial: 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 L.H., Lord Chamberlain, King and Queen, Wolsey, Norfolk and Suffolk, Guilford and Lovell, the rest enter into conversation with each other, and are closed in.

SCENE III. —A ROOM IN THE PALACE. Enter Lord Sands and the Lord Chamberlain,* ^note R.H.

Cham.
Is it possible, the spells of France should juggle
Men into such strange mysteries?

Sands.
New customs,
Though they be never so ridiculous,
Nay, let them be unmanly, yet are follow'd.

Cham.
As far as I see, all the good our English
Have got by the late voyage, is but merely
A fit or two o' th' face; but they are shrewd ones;
For when they hold them, you would swear directly,
Their very noses had been counsellors
To Pepin, or Clotharius, they keep state so.

Sands.
They have all new legs, and lame ones; one would take it,
That never saw them pace before, the spavin,
A springhalt reign'd among them.

Cham.
Death! my lord,
Their clothes are after such a pagan cut, too,
That, sure, they have worn out Christendom. How now?
What news, Sir Thomas Lovell? Enter Sir Thomas Lovell, R.H. cross to C.

Lov.
'Faith, my lord,
I hear of none, but the new proclamation
That's clapp'd upon the court-gate.

Cham.
What is't for?

Lov.
The reformation of our travell'd gallants,
That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors.

Cham.
I am glad 'tis there; now I would pray our monsieurs
To think an English courtier may be wise,

And never see the Louvre. What a loss our ladies
Will have of these trim vanities!

Lov.
Ay, marry,
There will be woe indeed, lords;
A French song, and a fiddle, has no fellow.

Sands.
The devil fiddle them! I am glad, they're going;
Now an honest country lord, as I am, beaten
A long time out of play, may bring his plain song,
And have the honour of hearing; and, by'r lady,
Held current music, too.

Cham.
Well said, Lord Sands;
Your colt's tooth is not cast yet.

Sands.
No, my lord;
Nor shall not, while I have a stump.

Cham.
Sir Thomas,
Whither are you a going?

Lov.
To the cardinal's;
Your lordship is a guest, too.

Cham.
O, 'tis true:
This night he makes a supper, and a great one,
To many lords and ladies; there will be
The beauty of this kingdom, I'll assure you.

Lov.
That churchman bears a bounteous mind indeed,
A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us.

Sands.
He may, my lord, he has wherewithal; in him,
Sparing would show a worse sin than ill doctrine:
Men of his way should be most liberal,
They are set here for examples.

Cham.
True, they are so.
But few now give so great ones. My barge stays;
Your lordship shall along:—Come, good Sir Thomas,
We shall be late else: which I would not be,
For I was spoke to, with Sir Henry Guildford,
This night to be comptrollers.

Sands.
I am your lordship's. [Exeunt, L.H.

SCENE IV. —THE PRESENCE-CHAMBER IN YORK PLACE. Music. A small table under a state for the Cardinal; R.H., a longer table for the guests, C. Enter at L.H. Anne Boleyn,* ^note and divers Lords, Ladies, and Gentlewomen, as guests; at another door, enter Sir Henry Guildford, R. 1 E. Various Lords and Ladies discovered. Servants in attendance.

Guild.
Ladies, a general welcome from his grace
Salutes ye all: This night he dedicates
To fair content, and you: none here, he hopes,
In all this noble bevy, has brought with her
One care abroad; he would have all as merry
As first-good company, good wine, good welcome
Can make good people (Music). O, my lord, you are tardy. Enter Lord Chamberlain, Lord Sands, and Sir Thomas Lovell, and more Lords and Ladies, L.H. 2 E.
The very thought of this fair company
Clapp'd wings to me.

Cham.
You are young, Sir Harry Guildford.
By my life, they are a sweet society of fair ones.

Lov.
O, that your lordship were but now confessor
To one or two of these!

Sands.
I would, I were;
They should find easy penance.

Cham.
Sweet ladies, will it please you sit? Sir Harry,
Place you that side, I'll take the charge of this. Trumpets.
His grace is ent'ring. My Lord Sands,
Pray, sit between these ladies.

Sands.
By my faith,
And thank your lordship.—By your leave, sweet ladies: [Seats himself between Anne Boleyn and another Lady.
If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me;
I had it from my father.

Anne.
Was he mad, sir?

Sands.
O, very mad, exceeding mad,—in love, too:
But he would bite none; just as I do now,
He would kis you twenty with a breath. [Kisses her.

Cham.
Well said, my lord.—
So, now you are fairly seated. Gentlemen,
The penance lies on you, if these fair ladies
Pass away frowning.

Sands.
For my little cure,
Let me alone. Flourish of Trumpets. Enter R.H., Four Trumpeters, Pursuivant with mace, Two Silver Pillar-bearers, Two Gentlemen Ushers, Cardinal Wolsey, attended by Two Pages; and takes his state.

Wol.
You are welcome, my fair guests; that noble lady,
Or gentleman, that is not freely merry,
Is not my friend: This, to confirm my welcome;
And to you all good health. Drinks. Flourish of trumpets.

Sands.
Your grace is noble:
Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks,
And save me so much talking.

Wol.
My Lord Sands,
I am beholden to you: cheer your neighbours.—

Ladies, you are not merry;—Gentlemen,
Whose fault is this?

Sands.
The red wine first must rise
In their fair cheeks, my lord; then we shall have them
Talk us to silence.

Anne.
You are a very merry gamester,
My Lord Sands.

Sands.
Yes, if I make my play. Chambers discharged,* ^note L.H. Drums and fifes heard in the distance:

Wol.
What's that?

Cham.
Look out there, some of you. [Exeunt Servants, L.H.

Wol.
What warlike voice?
And to what end is this?—Nay, ladies, fear not;
By all the laws of war you are privileg'd. Enter Servants and a Seneschal, L.H. 2 E.

Cham.
How now? what is't?

Serv.
A noble troop of strangers;
For so they seem: they have left their barge, and landed;
And hither make, as great ambassadors
From foreign princes.

Wol.
Good Lord Chamberlain,
Go, give them welcome, you can speak the French tongue;
And, pray, receive them nobly, and conduct them,
Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty
Shall shine at full upon them:—Some attend him.— [Exit Chamberlain, L.H. 2 E., attended by Guildford. All arise, and tables removed.
You have now a broken banquet; but we'll mend it.
A good digestion to you all: and, once more,
I shower a welcome on you;—Welcome all. [Drums and Fifes.

Enter the King, L.H.U.E., and twelve others, as maskers, habited like Shepherds, preceded by sixteen Drummers and Fifers, and sixteen torch-bearers; ushered by the Lord Chamberlain. They pass directly before the Cardinal, and gracefully salute him.
A noble company! what are their pleasures?

Cham.
Because they speak no English, thus they pray'd
To tell your grace;—That, having heard by fame
Of this so noble and so fair assembly
This night to meet here, they could do no less,
Out of the great respect they bear to beauty,
But leave their flocks; and under your fair conduct,
Crave leave to view these ladies, and entreat
An hour of revels with them.

Wol.
Say, Lord Chamberlain,
They have done my poor house grace, for which I pay them
A thousand thanks, and pray them take their pleasures. [Ladies chosen for the dance. The King chooses Anne Boleyn.

K. Hen.
The fairest hand I ever touch'd! O, beauty,
Till now I never knew thee. MUSIC—DANCE.

Wol.
My lord,—

Cham.
Your grace?

Wol.
Pray, tell them thus much from me:
There should be one amongst them, by his person,
More worthy this place than myself; to whom,
If I but knew him, with my love and duty
I would surrender it.

Cham.
I will, my lord. [Cham. goes to the company, and returns.

Wol.
What say they?

Cham.
Such a one, they all confess,
There is, indeed, which they would have your grace
Find out, and he will take it.

Wol.
Let me see then— [Comes from his state.
By all your good leaves, gentlemen;—Here I'll make
My royal choice.

K. Hen.
You have found him, cardinal: [Unmasking.
You hold a fair assembly; you do well, lord:
You are a churchman, or, I'll tell you, cardinal,
I should judge now unhappily.

Wol.
I am glad,
Your grace is grown so pleasant.

K. Hen.
My Lord Chamberlain,
Pr'ythee, come hither: What fair lady's that?

Cham.
An't please your grace, Sir Thomas Bullen's daughter,
The Viscount Rochford, one of her highness' women.

K. Hen.
By heaven, she is a dainty one.—Sweetheart,
I were unmannerly, to take you out,
And not to kiss you.* ^note



—A health, gentlemen,
Let it go round.

Wol.
Sir Thomas Lovell, is the banquet ready
I' th' privy chamber?

Lov.
Yes, my lord.

Wol.
Your grace,
I fear, with dancing is a little heated.

K. Hen.
I fear, too much.

Wol.
There's fresher air, my lord,
In the next chamber.

K. Hen.
Lead in your ladies, every one.—Sweet partner,
I must not yet forsake you:—Let's be merry;—
Good, my Lord Cardinal, I have half a dozen healths
To drink to these fair ladies, and a measure
To lead them once again; and then let's dream
Who's best in favour.—Let the music knock it. [Exeunt with music.(3)8Q0035 END OF ACT FIRST.

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