Charles Kean [1855], Shakespere's historical play of King Henry the Eighth; arranged for representation at the Princess's Theatre, by Charles Kean. First performed on Wednesday, 16th May, 1855 (Printed by John K. Chapman and Co. [etc.], London) [word count] [S35600].
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SCENE I.
—LONDON. OLD PALACE YARD,
WESTMINSTER.* note
Enter the Duke of Norfolk, L.H.; the Duke of Buckingham,
and the Lord Abergavenny,† note R.H.
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 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.‡ note
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 it's. 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,
-- 12 --
Show'd like a mine. The two kings,
Equal in lustre, were now best, now worst,
As presence did present them. When these suns
(For so they phrase them), 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 Bevis was believ'd.* note
Buck.
Who did guide?
I mean, who set the body and the limbs
Of this great sport together?
Nor.
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?
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.
Buck.
Why took he upon him,
Without the privity o' th' king, to appoint
Who should attend on him? He makes up 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. What did this vanity,
But minister communication of a most poor issue?
Nor.
'Like it your Grace,
The State takes notice of the private difference
Betwixt you and the cardinal. 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,
-- 13 --
You'll find it wholesome. Lo, where comes that rock,
That I advise your shunning.
TRUMPET MARCH.
4 Trumpeters.
6 Guards.
Pursuivant, with the great silver-gilt mace of the Chancellor.
2 Gentlemen, with silver headed staves.
Gentleman, carrying the Great Seal of England.
2 Gentlemen Ushers, with wands.
Priest carrying Cardinal's hat.
2 Gentlemen Ushers, with wands.
2 Laymen, carrying silver pillars.(1)8Q0033
2 Priests, carrying silver crosses.* note
8 Henchmen, supporting the canopy over Cardinal Wolsey,
and followed by
2 Pages.
2 Secretaries.
2 Chaplains.
8 Footmen.
6 Guards.
The procession stops when Wolsey is in the centre of the stage.
[The Cardinal L.H., in his passage fixeth
his eye on Buckingham, and Buchingham
on him, both full of disdain.(2)8Q0034
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.
-- 14 --
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.
-- 15 --
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:
-- 16 --
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.
Charles Kean [1855], Shakespere's historical play of King Henry the Eighth; arranged for representation at the Princess's Theatre, by Charles Kean. First performed on Wednesday, 16th May, 1855 (Printed by John K. Chapman and Co. [etc.], London) [word count] [S35600].
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