KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. CARDINAL WOLSEY. CARDINAL CAMPEIUS.
CAPUCIUS, Ambassador from the Emperor Charles the Fifth.
CRANMER, Archbishop of Canterbury. DUKE OF NORFOLK.
DUKE OF SUFFOLK.
DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. EARL OF SURREY. Lord Chancellor. Lord Chamberlain.
GARDINER, Bishop of Winchester. BISHOP OF LINCOLN. LORD ABERGAVENNY. LORD SANDS.
SIR THOMAS LOVELL. SIR HENRY GUILDFORD. SIR ANTHONY DENNY. SIR NICHOLAS VAUX. Secretaries to Wolsey.
CROMWELL, Servant to Wolsey. GRIFFITH, Gentleman-Usher to Queen Katha- rine.
Three Gentlemen. Garter King-at-Arms.
DOCTOR BUTTS, Physician to the King. Surveyor to the Duke of Buckingham. BRANDON, and a Sergeant-at-Arms. Door-keeper of the Council Chamber. Porter, and his Man. Page to Gardiner. A Crier.
QUEEN KATHARINE, Wife to King Henry; afterwards divorced.
ANNE BULLEN, her Maid of Honour; after- wards Queen.
An Old Lady, Friend to Anne Bullen. PATIENCE, Woman to Queen Katharine.
Several Lords and Ladies in the Dumb Shows; Women attending upon the Queen; Spirits which appear to her; Scribes, Officers, Guards, and other Attendants.
SCENE.-Chiefly in London and Westminster; once, at Kimbolton.
I come no more to make you laugh: things now, That bear a weighty and a serious brow, Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe, Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow, We now present. Those that can pity, here May, if they think it well, let fall a tear; The subject will deserve it. Such as give Their money out of hope they may believe, May here find truth too. Those that come to see Only a show or two, and so agree
The play may pass, if they be still and willing, I'll undertake may see away their shilling Richly in two short hours. Only they That come to hear a merry, bawdy play, A noise of targets, or to see a fellow In a long motley coat guarded with yellow, Will be deceiv'd; for, gentle hearers, know, To rank our chosen truth with such a show As fool and fight is, besides forfeiting Our own brains, and the opinion that we bring, To make that only true we now intend,
SCENE I.-London. An Antechamber in the Palace.
Beheld them, when they lighted, how they clung In their embracement, as they grew together; Which had they, what four thron'd ones could have weigh'd
Such a compounded one? Buck.
All the whole time 12 I was my chamber's prisoner. 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 16 Became the next day's master, till the last Made former wonders its. 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 Show'd like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were As cherubins, all gilt: the madams, too, Not us'd to toil, did almost sweat to bear The pride upon them, that their very labour Was to them as a painting. Now this masque Was cried incomparable; and the ensuing night Made it a fool, and beggar. The two kings, 28 Equal in lustre, were now best, now worst, As presence did present them; him in eye, Still him in praise; and, being present both, 'Twas said they saw but one; and no discerner Durst wag his tongue in censure. When these
From his ambitious finger. What had he To do in these fierce vanities? I wonder That such a keech can with his very bulk Take up the rays o' the beneficial sun, And keep it from the earth. Nor. Surely, sir, There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends;
For, being not propp'd by ancestry, whose grace Chalks successors their way, nor call'd upon 60 For high feats done to the crown; neither allied To eminent assistants; but, spider-like, Out of his self-drawing web, he gives us note, The force of his own merit makes his way; 64 A gift that heaven gives for him, which buys A place next to the king. Aber.
I cannot tell What heaven hath given him: let some graver
Of all the gentry; for the most part such To whom as great a charge as little honour He meant to lay upon: and his own letter, – The honourable board of council out,— Must fetch him in he papers. Aber. I do know Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that have By this so sicken'd their estates, that never They shall abound as formerly.
Have broke their backs with laying manors on 'em 84
For this great journey. What did this vanity But minister communication of
The peace between the French and us not
For France hath flaw'd the league, and hath attach'd
Our merchants' goods at Bourdeaux. Aber.
The ambassador is silenc'd? Nor. Aber. A proper title of a peace; and pur- chas'd
Is it therefore 96 I'll follow, and out-stare him. Nor. Stay, my lord, And let your reason with your choler question What 'tis you go about. To climb steep hills Requires slow pace at first: anger is like A full-hot horse, who being allow'd his way, Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England Can advise me like you: be to yourself As you would to your friend. Buck. I'll to the king; 136 And from a mouth of honour quite cry down This Ipswich fellow's insolence, or proclaim There's difference in no persons.
Buck. Why, all this business Our reverend cardinal carried. Nor. Like it your Grace, 100 The state takes notice of the private difference Betwixt you and the cardinal. I advise you,- And take it from a heart that wishes towards you
Honour and plenteous safety,-that you read 104 The cardinal's malice and his potency Together; to consider further that
What his high hatred would effect wants not A minister in his power. You know his nature, That he's revengeful; and I know his sword 109 Hath a sharp edge: it's long, and 't may be said, It reaches far; and where 'twill not extend, Thither he darts it. Bosom up my counsel, 112 You'll find it wholesome. Lo where comes that rock
That I advise your shunning.
Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY,-the Purse borne before him,-certain of the Guard, and two Secretaries with papers. The CARDINAL in his passage fixeth his eye on BUCKINGHAM, and BUCKINGHAM on him, both full of dis
Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot That it do singe yourself. We may outrun By violent swiftness that which we run at, And lose by overrunning. Know you not, The fire that mounts the liquor till it run o'er, In seeming to augment it wastes it? Be advis'd: I say again, there is no English soul More stronger to direct you than yourself, If with the sap of reason you would quench, 148 Or but allay, the fire of passion. Buck. Sir,
I am thankful to you, and I'll go along By your prescription: but this top-proud fellow, Whom from the flow of gall I name not, but 152 From sincere motions,-by intelligence, And proofs as clear as founts in July, when We see each grain of gravel,-I do know To be corrupt and treasonous. Nor. Say not, 'treasonous.' 156 Buck. To the king I'll say 't; and make my vouch as strong
The articles o' the combination drew As himself pleas'd; and they were ratified As he cried, "Thus let be,' to as much end As give a crutch to the dead. But our count cardinal
172 Has done this, and 'tis well; for worthy Wolsey, Who cannot err, he did it. Now this follows, Which, as I take it, is a kind of puppy To the old dam, treason, Charles the emperor, Under pretence to see the queen his aunt,- 177 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; for from this league Peep'd harms that menac'd him. He privily Deals with our cardinal, and, as I trow, Which I do well; for, I am sure the emperor Paid ere he promis'd; whereby his suit was granted
Ere it was ask'd; 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, 192 And for his own advantage.
Nor. I am sorry To hear this of him; and could wish he were Something mistaken in 't.
No, not a syllable: I do pronounce him in that very shape He shall appear in proof.
SCENE II.-The Council Chamber.
Enter the KING, leaning on the CARDINAL'S shoulder, the Lords of the Council, SIR THOMAS LOVELL, Officers, and Attendants. The CARDINAL places himself under the KING'S feet on the right side.
K. Hen. My life itself, and the best heart of it, Thanks you for this great care: I stood i' the level
Of a full-charg'd confederacy, and give thanks To you that chok'd it. Let be call'd before us 4 That gentleman of Buckingham's; in person I'll hear him his confessions justify; And point by point the treasons of his master He shall again relate.
A noise within, crying, 'Room for the Queen!' Enter QUEEN KATHARINE, ushered by the DUKES OF NORFOLK and SUFFOLK: she kneels. The KING riseth from his state, takes her up, kisses, and placeth her by him. Q. Kath. Nay, we must longer kneel: I am a suitor.
K. Hen. Arise, and take place by us: half your suit
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. We must not stint
Our necessary actions, in the fear
To cope malicious censurers; which ever, As rav'nous fishes, do a vessel follow That is new-trimm'd, but benefit no further 80 Than vainly longing. What we oft do best, By sick interpreters, once weak ones, is Not ours, or not allow'd; what worst, as oft, Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up For our best act. 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;
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