Enter the Queen, ushered by GUILDFORD, who places

a Cushion, on which she kneels.The King rises,
takes her up, and places her by him.
King, Rise.
Queen. Nay, we must longer kneel; I am a suitor.
King. Arise, and take your place by us :-Half

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 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 have 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. Not almost appears,
It doth appear: for, upon these taxations,
The clothiers all, not able to maintain
The many to them ’longing,
Compelld by hunger,
And lack of other means, are all in uproar,
And danger serves among them.
King. Taxation !



Wherein i and what taxation?—My lord cardinal,
You that are blam'd for it alike with us,

you of this taxation ?
Wol. Please you sir,
I know but of a single part, in aught
Pertains to the state ; and front but in that file
Where others tell steps with me.

Queen. No, my lord,
You know no more than others : but

Things, that are known alike; which are not whole-
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 the hearing; and, to bear them,
The back is sacrifice to the 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 venturous
In tempting of your patience; but am bolden'd
Under your promis'd pardon. The subjects' grief
Comes through commissions, which coinpel 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

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.

King. By my life,
This is against our pleasure.

Wol. And for me,

I have no surther gone in this, than by
A single voice; and that not past 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.

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 From every tree, lop, bark, and part o’ the timber ; And, though we leave it with a root, thus hack'd, The air will drink the sap. To every 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 CROMWELL. Let there be letters writ of the king's grace and pardon.-The griev'd com,

every shire,


Hardly conceive of me; let it nois'd,
That through our intercession, this revokement
And pardon comes : I shall anon


you Further in the proceeding. [Exit CROMWELL

Queen. I am sorry, that the Duke of Buckingham Is run in your displeasure, King. It grieves many:

• C-3

The gentleman is learned, a most rare speaker,
To nature none more bound: but 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. 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.

King. Speak freely.

Suru. 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 sceptre his: These very

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.

Queen. My learn'd lord cardinal,
Deliver all with charity.

King. 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.

King. How know'st thou this?
Surv. “ There is,” says he, “ a Chartreux friar,

that oft
Hath sent to me, wishing me to permit
John de la Court, my chaplain, a choice hour
To hear from him a matter of some moment:
Whom after, under the confession's seal,
He solemnly had sworn, that what he spoke
My chaplain to no creature living, but

To me, should utter, with demure confidence
This pausingly ensu'd, -Neither the king, nor his

(Tell you the duke,) shall prosper: bid him strive
To the love of the commonalty; the duke
Shall govern England."

Queen. If I know you well,
You were the duke's surveyor, and lost
On the complaint o’the tenants : Take good heed,
You charge not in your spleen a


person, And spoil your nobler soul; I say take heed.

King. Go forward.

Suru. 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 'twas danger-

ous 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 cardinals and Sir Thomas Lovel's heads
Should have gone off.

King. Ha! what, so rank! Ah, ha!
There's mischief in this man:-Canst thou


fur ther? Suro. I can, my liege. King. Proceed. Surv. Being at Greenwich,

your office

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