Good my lord cardinal, I have half a dozen healths Even to the hall, to hear what shall become Of the great duke of Buckingham. 1 Gent. I'll save you That labour, sir. All's now done, but the ceremony Of bringing back the prisoner. 2 Gent. 1 Gent. Yes, indeed, was I. 2 Gent. Were you there? Pray, speak, what has happen'd? Is he found guilty? 1 Gent. You may guess quickly what. 2 Gent. 1 Gent. Yes, truly is he, and condemn'd upon it. 2 Gent. I am sorry for't. 1 Gent, So are a number more. 2 Gent. But, pray, how pass'd it? 1 Gent. I'll tell you in a little. The great duke Came to the bar; where, to his accusations, He pleaded still, not guilty, and alleg'd Many sharp reasons to defeat the law. The king's attorney, on the contrary, * Dance. At which appear'd against him, his surveyor; 2 Gent. That fed him with his prophecies ? 1 Gent. That was he, The same. All these accus'd him strongly; which he fain Would have flung from him, but, indeed, he could not: And so his peers, upon this evidence, Have found him guilty of high treason. Much Was either pitied in him, or forgotten. 2 Gent. After all this, how did he bear himself? 1 Gent. When he was brought again to the bar,to hear His knell rung out, his judgement, he was stirr'd 1 Gent. Sure, he does not. He never was so womanish: the cause He may a little grieve at. 2 Gent. The cardinal is the end of this. 1 Gent. Certainly, 'Tis likely, By all conjectures: First, Kildare's attainder, Earl Surrey was sent thither, and in haste too, 2 Gent. Was a deep envious one. That trick of state At his return, 1 Gent. 2 Gent. All the commons Hate him perniciously, and, o' my conscience, The mirror of all courtesy ; 1 Gent. Stay there, sir, And see the noble ruin'd man you speak of. Enter Buckingham from his arraignment; Tipstaves before him, the axe with the edge towards him; halberds on each side: with him Sir Tho mas Lovell, Sir Nicholas Vaux, Sir William Sands, and common people. 2 Gent. Let's stand close, and behold him. Buck. All good people, You that thus far have come to pity me, Hear what I say, and then go home and lose me. ness, And, if I have a conscience, let it sink me, It has done, upon the premises, but justice: Be what they will, I heartily forgive them : Yet let them look they glory not in mischief, Nor build their evils on the graves of great men; For then my guiltless blood must cry against them: For further life in this world I ne'er hope, Nor will I sue, although the king have mercies More than I dare make faults. You few that lov'd me, And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham, His noble friends, and fellows, whom to leave Is only bitter to him, only dying, Go with me, like good angels, to my end; And, as the long divorce of steel falls on me, And lift my soul to heaven.-Lead on, o'God's name. Lov. I do beseech your grace, for charity, If ever any malice in your heart Were hid against me, now to forgive me frankly. There cannot be those numberless offences Lov. To the water-side I must conduct your grace; Vaux. Prepare there, The duke is coming: see, the barge be ready; And fit it with such furniture, as suits The greatness of his person. Buck. Nay, sir Nicholas, Let it alone; my state now will but mock me. When I came hither, I was lord high constable, And duke of Buckingham; now, poor Edward Bo hun: Yet I am richer than my base accusers, That never knew what truth meant: I now seal it; And with that blood will make them one day groan for't. My noble father, Henry of Buckingham, Who first rais'd head against usurping Richard, • Close. Being distress'd, was by that wretch betray'd, And, must needs say, a noble one; which makes me Fell by our servants, by those men we lov'd most;, Heaven has an end in all: Yet, you that hear me, This from a dying man receive as certain: Where you are liberal of your joves, and counsels, Be sure, you be not loose; for those you make friends, And give your hearts to, when they once perceive The least rub in your fortunes, fall away Like water from ye, never found again But where they mean to sink ye. All good people, Pray for me! I must now forsake ye; the last hour, Of my long weary life is come upon me. Farewell: And when you would say something that is sad, Speak how I fell.-I have done; and God forgive me! [Exeunt Buckingham and train. 1 Gent. O, this is full of pity!-Sir, it calls, I fear, too many curses on their heads, That were the authors. 2 Gent. If the duke be guiltless, "Tis full of woe: yet I can give you inkling Of an ensuing evil, if it fall, Greater than this. 1 Gent. Good angels keep it from us! Where may it be? You do not doubt my faith, sir? 2 Gent. This secret is so weighty, 'twill require A strong faith to conceal it. |