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And lift my foul to heav'n. Lead on, o' God's name. `
Lov. I do befeech your Grace for charity,
If ever any malice in your heart

Were hid against me, now forgive me frankly.
Buck. Sir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive you,
As I would be forgiven: I forgive all.
There cannot be thofe numberlefs offences

'Gainft me, I can't take peace with no black envy
Shall make my grave..
Commend me to his Grace:
And, if he fpeak of Buckingham, pray tell him,
You met him half in heaven: my vows and pray'rs
Yet are the King's; and, 'till my foul forfake me,
Shall cry for bleffings on him. May he live
Longer than I have time to tell his years !
Ever belov'd and loving may his rule be!
And when old time fhall lead him to his end,
Goodness, and he fill up one monument!

Lov, To th' water fide I must conduct your Grace,
Then give my charge up to Sir Nicholas Vaux,
Who undertakes you to your end.

Vaux. Prepare there,

The Duke is coming: fee the barge be ready:
And fit it with fuch furniture as fuits

The greatness of his Perfon.

Buck. Nay, Sir Nicholas,

Let it alone; my ftate now will but mock me.
When I came hither, I was Lord high Constable,

And Duke of Buckingham; now, poor Edward Bohun :
Yet I am richer than my base accufers,

That never knew what truth meant. I now feal it;
And with that blood, will make 'em one day groan for't.
My noble father, Henry of Buckingham,

Who firft rais'd head againft ufurping Richard,

Flying for fuccour to his fervant Banifter,
Being diftrefs'd, was by that wretch betray'd,
And without tryal fell; God's peace be with him!
Henry the Sev'nth fucceeding, truly pitying
My father's lofs, like a moft royal Prince
Reftor'd to me my honours; and, from ruins,
Made my name once more noble. Now his fon,

Hrary

1

Henry the Eighth, life, honour, name, and all
That made me happy, at one ftroak has taken
For ever from the world. I had my tryal,
And must needs fay, a noble one; which makes me
A little happier than my wretched father :
Yet thus far we are one in fortune, both
Fell by our fervants, by those men we lov’d.
A most unnatural and faithless service!

Heav'n has an end in all: yet, you that hear me,
This from a dying man receive as certain :
Where you are lib'ral of your loves and counfels,
Be fure, you be not loofe; thofe you make friends,
And give your hearts to, when they once perceive
The leaft rub in your fortunes, fall away

Like water from ye, never found again,
But where they mean to fink ye. All good people,
Pray for me! I must leave ye; the last hour
Of my long weary life is come upon me;
Farewel; and when you would fay fomething fad,
Speak, how I fell- -I've done; and God forgive me!
[Exeunt Buckingham and Traini

1 Gen. O, this is full of pity; Sir, it calls,
I fear, too many curfes on their heads,
That were the authors.

2 Gen. If the Duke be guiltless,

'Tis full of woe; yet I can give you inkling Of an enfuing evil, if it fall,

Greater than this.

1 Gen. Good angels keep it from us!

What may it be? you do not doubt my faith, Sir?
2 Gen. This fecret is fo weighty, 'twill require
A ftrong faith to conceal it.

1 Gen. Let me have it;

I do not talk much.

2 Gen. I am confident;

You fhall, Sir; did you not of late days hear
A buzzing of a separation

Between the King and Cath'rine?

1 Gen. Yes, but it held not;

For when the King once heard it, out of

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He fent command to the Lord Mayor strait
To stop the rumour; and allay those tongues,
That durft difperfe it.

2. Gen. But that flander, Sir,

Is found a truth now; for it grows again
Fresher than e'er it was: and held for certain,
The King will venture at it. Either the Cardinal,
Or fome about him near, have (out of malice
To the good Queen) poffefs'd him with a scruple
That will undo her: to confirm this too,
Cardinal Campeius is arriv'd, and lately,
As all think, for this bufinefs.

1 Gen. 'Tis the Cardinal;

And meerly to revenge him on the Emperor,
For not bestowing on him, at his asking,

The Arch-bishoprick of Toledo, this is purpos'd.

2 Gen. I think, you've hit the mark; but is't not cruel, That she should feel the smart of this? the Cardinal Will have his will, and the must fall.

1. Gen. 'Tis woful.

We are too open here to argue this:
Let's think in private more.

[Exeunt

SCENE, an Antichamber in the Palace.
Enter Lord Chamberlain reading a letter.

M

Y lord, the horses your lordship sent for, with all the care I had, I faw well chofen, ridden, and furnifb'd. They were young and handsome, and of the best breed in the North: When they were ready to fet out for London, a man of my lord Cardinal's, by commiffion and main power took 'em from me, with this reafon; his master would be ferv'd before a subject, if not before the King, which flopp'd our mouths, Sir.

I fear, he will, indeed; well, let him have them;
He will have all, I think.

Enter to the Lord Chamberlain, the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk.

Nor. Well met, my Lord Chamberlain.

Cham.

Cham. Good day to both your Graces.

Suf. How is the King employ'd?
Cham. I left him private,

Full of fad thoughts and troubles.

Nor. What's the cause?

Cham. It feems, the marriage with his brother's wife Has crept too near his confcience.

Suf. No, his confcience

Has crept too near another lady.

Nor. 'Tis fo;

This is the Cardinal's doing; the King Cardinal:
That blind prieft, like the eldeft fon of fortune,
Turns what he lifts. The King will know him one day.
Suf. Pray God, he do! he'll never know himself elle.
Nor. How holily he works in all his business,

And with what zeal? for now he has crackt the league
Tween us and th' Emperor, the Queen's great nephew,
He dives into the King's foul, and there scatters
Doubts, dangers, wringing of the confcience,
Fears, and defpair, and all these for his marriage;
And out of all these, to restore the King,
He counfels a divorce; a lofs of Her,
That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years
About his neck, yet never loft her luftre;
Of her, that loves him with that excellence,
That angels love good men with; even of her,
That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls,
Will blefs the King; and is not this course pious?
Cham. Heav'n keep me from fuch counfel! 'tis most
true,

Thefe news are ev'ry where; ev'ry tongue fpeaks 'em,
And ev'ry true heart weeps for't. All, that dare
Look into thefe affairs, fee his main end,

The French King's fifter. Heav'n will one day open
The King's eyes, that fo long have flept upon
.This bold, bad man.

Suf. And free us from his flavery.

Nor. We had need pray, and heartily, for deliv'rance; Or this imperious man will work us all

From princes into pages; all men's honours

Lye

Lye like one lump before him, to be fashion'd
Into what pitch he please.

Suf. For me, my lords,

I love him not, nor fear him, there's my Creed:
As I am made without him, fo I'll ftand,

If the King please: his curfes and his bleffings
Touch me alike; they're breath I not believe in.
I knew him, and I know him; so I leave him
To him, that made him proud, the Pope.

Nor. Let's in.

And with fome other business put the King

From these fad thoughts, that work too much upon him; My lord, you'll bear us company?

Cham. Excufe me,

The King hath fent me other where befides,
You'll find a most unfit time to disturb him:

Health to your lordships.

[Exit Lord Chamberlain.

Nor. Thanks, my good Lord Chamberlain.

The Scene draws, and difcovers the King fitting and reading penfively.

Suf. How fad he looks! fure, he is much afflicted.
King. Who's there? ha?

Nor. Pray God, he be not angry.

King. Who's there, I fay? how dare you thruft your felves

Into my private meditations?

Who am I? ha?

Nor. A gracious King, that pardons all offences, Malice ne'er meant: our breach of duty, this way, Is business of eftate; in which we come

To know your royal pleasure.

King. Ye are too bold:

Go to: I'll make ye know your times of bufinefs:
Is this an hour for temporal affairs? ha?

Enter Wolfey, and Campeius the Pope's Legat, with a Commission.

Who's there? my good Lord Cardinal? O my Wolfey, The quiet of my wounded confcience !

Thou

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