| KING HENRY
the Eighth |
(KING HENRY VIII:) |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY: | |
| CARDINAL CAMPEIUS: | |
| CAPUCIUS | Ambassador from the Emperor Charles V |
| CRANMER | Archbishop of Canterbury. |
| DUKE OF NORFOLK | (NORFOLK:) |
| DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM | (BUCKINGHAM:) |
| DUKE OF SUFFOLK | (SUFFOLK:) |
| EARL OF SURREY | (SURREY:) |
| Lord Chamberlain | (Chamberlain:) |
| Lord Chancellor | (Chancellor:) |
| GARDINER | Bishop of Winchester. |
| Bishop of Lincoln. (LINCOLN:) | |
| LORD ABERGAVENNY | (ABERGAVENNY:) |
| LORD SANDS | (SANDS:) |
| SIR HENRY
GUILDFORD |
(GUILDFORD:) |
| SIR THOMAS LOVELL | (LOVELL:) |
| SIR ANTHONY DENNY | (DENNY:) |
| SIR NICHOLAS VAUX | (VAUX:) |
| Secretaries to Wolsey.
(First Secretary:) (Second Secretary:) | |
| CROMWELL | Servant to Wolsey. |
| GRIFFITH | Gentleman-usher to Queen Katharine. |
| Three Gentlemen.
(First Gentleman:) (Second Gentleman:) (Third Gentleman:) | |
| DOCTOR BUTTS | Physician to the King. |
| Garter King-at-Arms. (Garter:) | |
| Surveyor to the Duke of Buckingham. (Surveyor:) | |
| BRANDON: | |
| A Sergeant-at-Arms. (Sergeant:) | |
| Door-keeper of the Council-chamber. Porter, (Porter:)
and his Man. (Man:) | |
| Page to Gardiner. (Boy:)
A Crier. (Crier:) | |
| QUEEN KATHARINE | (QUEEN KATHARINE:) Wife to King Henry, afterwards
divorced. (KATHARINE:) |
| ANNE BULLEN | (ANNE:) her Maid of Honour, afterwards Queen. (QUEEN ANNE:) |
| An old Lady, friend to Anne Bullen. (Old Lady:) | |
| PATIENCE | woman to Queen Katharine. |
| Several Lords and Ladies in the Dumb Shows; Women
attending upon the Queen; Scribes, Officers, Guards, and other Attendants. Spirits. | |
| (Scribe:)
(Keeper:) (Servant:) (Messenger:) |
| THE PROLOGUE | |
| 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 deceived; for, gentle hearers, know, To rank our chosen truth with such a show As fool and fight is, beside forfeiting Our own brains, and the opinion that we bring, To make that only true we now intend, Will leave us never an understanding friend. Therefore, for goodness' sake, and as you are known The first and happiest hearers of the town, Be sad, as we would make ye: think ye see The very persons of our noble story As they were living; think you see them great, And follow'd with the general throng and sweat Of thousand friends; then in a moment, see How soon this mightiness meets misery: And, if you can be merry then, I'll say A man may weep upon his wedding-day. |
| [Enter NORFOLK at one door; at the other, BUCKINGHAM
and ABERGAVENNY] | |
| BUCKINGHAM | Good morrow, and well met. How have ye done
Since last we saw in France? |
| NORFOLK | I thank your grace,
Healthful; and ever since a fresh admirer Of what I saw there. |
| BUCKINGHAM | 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. |
| NORFOLK | 'Twixt Guynes and Arde:
I was then present, saw them salute on horseback; Beheld them, when they lighted, how they clung In their embracement, as they grew together; Which had they, what four throned ones could have weigh'd Such a compounded one? |
| BUCKINGHAM | All the whole time
I was my chamber's prisoner. |
| NORFOLK | 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 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 guilt: the madams too, Not used 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, 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 suns-- For so they phrase 'em--by their heralds challenged 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 believed. |
| BUCKINGHAM | O, you go far. |
| NORFOLK | As I belong to worship and affect
In honour honesty, the tract of every thing Would by a good discourser lose some life, Which action's self was tongue to. All was royal; To the disposing of it nought rebell'd. Order gave each thing view; the office did Distinctly his full function. |
| BUCKINGHAM | Who did guide,
I mean, who set the body and the limbs Of this great sport together, as you guess? |
| NORFOLK | One, certes, that promises no element
In such a business. |
| BUCKINGHAM | I pray you, who, my lord? |
| NORFOLK | All this was order'd by the good discretion
Of the right reverend Cardinal of York. |
| BUCKINGHAM | The devil speed him! no man's pie is freed
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. |
| NORFOLK | 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 For high feats done to the crown; neither allied For eminent assistants; but, spider-like, Out of his self-drawing web, he gives us note, The force of his own merit makes his way A gift that heaven gives for him, which buys A place next to the king. |
| ABERGAVENNY | 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: whence has he that, If not from hell? the devil is a niggard, Or has given all before, and he begins A new hell in himself. |
| BUCKINGHAM | Why the devil,
Upon this French going out, took he upon him, Without the privity o' the king, to appoint Who should attend on him? He makes up the file 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 the papers. |
| ABERGAVENNY | I do know
Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that have By this so sickened their estates, that never They shall abound as formerly. |
| BUCKINGHAM | O, many
Have broke their backs with laying manors on 'em For this great journey. What did this vanity But minister communication of A most poor issue? |
| NORFOLK | Grievingly I think,
The peace between the French and us not values The cost that did conclude it. |
| BUCKINGHAM | Every man,
After the hideous storm that follow'd, was A thing inspired; and, not consulting, broke Into a general prophecy; That this tempest, Dashing the garment of this peace, aboded The sudden breach on't. |
| NORFOLK | Which is budded out;
For France hath flaw'd the league, and hath attach'd Our merchants' goods at Bourdeaux. |
| ABERGAVENNY | Is it therefore
The ambassador is silenced? |
| NORFOLK | Marry, is't. |
| ABERGAVENNY | A proper title of a peace; and purchased
At a superfluous rate! |
| BUCKINGHAM | Why, all this business
Our reverend cardinal carried. |
| NORFOLK | Like it your grace,
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 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 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, 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. CARDINAL WOLSEY in his passage fixeth his eye on BUCKINGHAM, and BUCKINGHAM on him, both full of disdain] | |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | The Duke of Buckingham's surveyor, ha?
Where's his examination? |
| First Secretary | Here, so please you. |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | Is he in person ready? |
| First Secretary | Ay, please your grace. |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | Well, we shall then know more; and Buckingham
Shall lessen this big look. |
| [Exeunt CARDINAL WOLSEY and his Train] | |
| BUCKINGHAM | This butcher's cur is venom-mouth'd, and I
Have not the power to muzzle him; therefore best Not wake him in his slumber. A beggar's book Outworths a noble's blood. |
| NORFOLK | What, are you chafed?
Ask God for temperance; that's the appliance only Which your disease requires. |
| BUCKINGHAM | I read in's looks
Matter against me; and his eye reviled Me, as his abject object: at this instant He bores me with some trick: he's gone to the king; I'll follow and outstare him. |
| NORFOLK | 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. |
| BUCKINGHAM | I'll to the king;
And from a mouth of honour quite cry down This Ipswich fellow's insolence; or proclaim There's difference in no persons. |
| NORFOLK | Be advised;
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 over-running. Know you not, The fire that mounts the liquor til run o'er, In seeming to augment it wastes it? Be advised: I say again, there is no English soul More stronger to direct you than yourself, If with the sap of reason you would quench, Or but allay, the fire of passion. |
| BUCKINGHAM | 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 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. |
| NORFOLK | Say not 'treasonous.' |
| BUCKINGHAM | 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't; his mind and place Infecting one another, yea, reciprocally-- 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' the rinsing. |
| NORFOLK | Faith, and so it did. |
| BUCKINGHAM | Pray, give me favour, sir. This cunning cardinal
The articles o' the combination drew As himself pleased; 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 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-- 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 menaced him: he privily Deals with our cardinal; and, as I trow,-- Which I do well; for I am sure the emperor Paid ere he promised; whereby his suit was granted Ere it was ask'd; but when the way was made, And paved with gold, the emperor thus desired, 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. |
| NORFOLK | I am sorry
To hear this of him; and could wish he were Something mistaken in't. |
| BUCKINGHAM | No, not a syllable:
I do pronounce him in that very shape He shall appear in proof. |
| [Enter BRANDON, a Sergeant-at-arms before him, and
two or three of the Guard] | |
| BRANDON | Your office, sergeant; execute it. |
| Sergeant | 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. |
| BUCKINGHAM | Lo, you, my lord,
The net has fall'n upon me! I shall perish Under device and practise. |
| BRANDON | I am sorry
To see you ta'en from liberty, to look on The business present: 'tis his highness' pleasure You shall to the Tower. |
| BUCKINGHAM | It will help me nothing
To plead mine innocence; for that dye 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 Abergavenny, fare you well! |
| BRANDON | Nay, he must bear you company. The king |
| [To ABERGAVENNY] | |
| Is pleased you shall to the Tower, till you know
How he determines further. | |
| ABERGAVENNY | As the duke said,
The will of heaven be done, and the king's pleasure By me obey'd! |
| BRANDON | Here is a warrant from
The king to attach Lord Montacute; and the bodies Of the duke's confessor, John de la Car, One Gilbert Peck, his chancellor-- |
| BUCKINGHAM | So, so;
These are the limbs o' the plot: no more, I hope. |
| BRANDON | A monk o' the Chartreux. |
| BUCKINGHAM | O, Nicholas Hopkins? |
| BRANDON | He. |
| BUCKINGHAM | My surveyor is false; the o'er-great cardinal
Hath show'd him gold; my life is spann'd already: I am the shadow of poor Buckingham, Whose figure even this instant cloud puts on, By darkening my clear sun. My lord, farewell. |
| [Exeunt] |
| [Cornets. Enter KING HENRY VIII, leaning on
CARDINAL WOLSEY's shoulder, the Nobles, and LOVELL; CARDINAL WOLSEY places himself under KING HENRY VIII's feet on his right side] | |
| KING HENRY VIII | My life itself, and the best heart of it,
Thanks you for this great care: I stood i' the level Of a full-charged confederacy, and give thanks To you that choked it. Let be call'd before us 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 NORFOLK, and SUFFOLK: she kneels. KING HENRY VIII riseth from his state, takes her up, kisses and placeth her by him] | |
| QUEEN KATHARINE | Nay, we must longer kneel: I am a suitor. |
| KING HENRY VIII | Arise, and take place by us: half your suit
Never name to us; you have half our power: The other moiety, ere you ask, is given; Repeat your will and take it. |
| QUEEN KATHARINE | 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 HENRY VIII | Lady mine, proceed. |
| QUEEN KATHARINE | 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 'em, which hath 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. |
| NORFOLK | Not almost appears,
It doth appear; for, upon these taxations, The clothiers all, not able to maintain The many to them longing, have put off The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers, who, Unfit for other life, compell'd by hunger And lack of other means, in desperate manner Daring the event to the teeth, are all in uproar, And danger serves among then! |
| KING HENRY VIII | Taxation!
Wherein? and what taxation? My lord cardinal, You that are blamed for it alike with us, Know you of this taxation? |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | 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 KATHARINE | No, my lord,
You know no more than others; but you frame Things that are known alike; which are not wholesome 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 bearing; and, to bear 'em, The back is sacrifice to the load. They say They are devised by you; or else you suffer Too hard an exclamation. |
| KING HENRY VIII | Still exaction!
The nature of it? in what kind, let's know, Is this exaction? |
| QUEEN KATHARINE | I am much too venturous
In tempting of your patience; but am bolden'd Under your promised pardon. The subjects' grief Comes through commissions, which compel from each The sixth part of his substance, to be levied Without delay; and the pretence for this Is named, your wars in France: this makes bold mouths: Tongues spit their duties out, and cold hearts freeze Allegiance in them; their curses now Live where their prayers did: and it's come to pass, This tractable obedience is a slave To each incensed will. I would your highness Would give it quick consideration, for There is no primer business. |
| KING HENRY VIII | By my life,
This is against our pleasure. |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | And for me,
I have no further gone in this than by A single voice; and that not pass'd me but By learned approbation of the judges. If I am Traduced 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. We must not stint Our necessary actions, in the fear To cope malicious censurers; which ever, As ravenous fishes, do a vessel follow That is new-trimm'd, but benefit no further 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. |
| KING HENRY VIII | 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 denied The force of this commission: pray, look to't; I put it to your care. |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | A word with you. |
| [To the Secretary] | |
| Let there be letters writ to every shire,
Of the king's grace and pardon. The grieved commons Hardly conceive of me; let it be noised That through our intercession this revokement And pardon comes: I shall anon advise you Further in the proceeding. | |
| [Exit Secretary] | |
| [Enter Surveyor] | |
| QUEEN KATHARINE | I am sorry that the Duke of Buckingham
Is run in your displeasure. |
| KING HENRY VIII | It grieves many:
The gentleman is learn'd, and a most rare speaker; To nature none more bound; his training such, That he may furnish and instruct great teachers, And never seek for aid out of himself. Yet see, When these so noble benefits shall prove Not well disposed, the mind growing once corrupt, They turn to vicious forms, ten times more ugly Than ever they were fair. This man so complete, Who was enroll'd 'mongst wonders, and when we, Almost with ravish'd listening, could not find His hour of speech a minute; 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. 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 practises; whereof We cannot feel too little, hear too much. |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | Stand forth, and with bold spirit relate what you,
Most like a careful subject, have collected Out of the Duke of Buckingham. |
| KING HENRY VIII | Speak freely. |
| Surveyor | First, it was usual with him, every day
It would infect his speech, that if the king Should without issue die, he'll carry it so To make the sceptre his: these very words I've heard him utter to his son-in-law, Lord Abergavenny; to whom by oath he menaced Revenge upon the cardinal. |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | Please your highness, note
This dangerous conception in this point. Not friended by by his wish, to your high person His will is most malignant; and it stretches Beyond you, to your friends. |
| QUEEN KATHARINE | My learn'd lord cardinal,
Deliver all with charity. |
| KING HENRY VIII | 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? |
| Surveyor | He was brought to this
By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Hopkins. |
| KING HENRY VIII | What was that Hopkins? |
| Surveyor | Sir, a Chartreux friar,
His confessor, who fed him every minute With words of sovereignty. |
| KING HENRY VIII | How know'st thou this? |
| Surveyor | Not long before your highness sped to France,
The duke being at the Rose, within the parish Saint Lawrence Poultney, did of me demand What was the speech among the Londoners Concerning the French journey: I replied, Men fear'd the French would prove perfidious, To the king's danger. Presently the duke Said, 'twas the fear, indeed; and that he doubted 'Twould prove the verity of certain words Spoke by a holy monk; 'that oft,' says he, 'Hath sent to me, wishing me to permit John de la Car, 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 ensued: neither the king nor's heirs, Tell you the duke, shall prosper: bid him strive To gain the love o' the commonalty: the duke Shall govern England.' |
| QUEEN KATHARINE | If I know you well,
You were the duke's surveyor, and lost your office On the complaint o' the tenants: take good heed You charge not in your spleen a noble person And spoil your nobler soul: I say, take heed; Yes, heartily beseech you. |
| KING HENRY VIII | Let him on.
Go forward. |
| Surveyor | On my soul, I'll speak but truth.
I told my lord the duke, by the devil's illusions The monk might be deceived; and that 'twas dangerous for him To ruminate on this so far, until It forged him some design, which, being believed, It was much like to do: he answer'd, 'Tush, It can do me no damage;' adding further, That, had the king in his last sickness fail'd, The cardinal's and Sir Thomas Lovell's heads Should have gone off. |
| KING HENRY VIII | Ha! what, so rank? Ah ha!
There's mischief in this man: canst thou say further? |
| Surveyor | I can, my liege. |
| KING HENRY VIII | Proceed. |
| Surveyor | Being at Greenwich,
After your highness had reproved the duke About Sir William Blomer,-- |
| KING HENRY VIII | I remember
Of such a time: being my sworn servant, The duke retain'd him his. But on; what hence? |
| Surveyor | 'If,' quoth he, 'I for this had been committed,
As, to the Tower, I thought, I would have play'd The part my father meant to act upon The usurper Richard; who, being at Salisbury, Made suit to come in's presence; which if granted, As he made semblance of his duty, would Have put his knife to him.' |
| KING HENRY VIII | A giant traitor! |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | Now, madam, may his highness live in freedom,
and this man out of prison? |
| QUEEN KATHARINE | God mend all! |
| KING HENRY VIII | There's something more would out of thee; what say'st? |
| Surveyor | After 'the duke his father,' with 'the knife,'
He stretch'd him, and, with one hand on his dagger, Another spread on's breast, mounting his eyes He did discharge a horrible oath; whose tenor Was,--were he evil used, he would outgo His father by as much as a performance Does an irresolute purpose. |
| KING HENRY VIII | There's his period,
To sheathe his knife in us. He is attach'd; Call him to present trial: if he may Find mercy in the law, 'tis his: if none, Let him not seek 't of us: by day and night, He's traitor to the height. |
| [Exeunt] |
| [Enter Chamberlain and SANDS] | |
| Chamberlain | Is't possible the spells of France should juggle
Men into such strange mysteries? |
| SANDS | New customs,
Though they be never so ridiculous, Nay, let 'em be unmanly, yet are follow'd. |
| Chamberlain | As far as I see, all the good our English
Have got by the late voyage is but merely A fit or two o' the face; but they are shrewd ones; For when they hold 'em, you would swear directly Their very noses had been counsellors To Pepin or Clotharius, they keep state so. |
| SANDS | They have all new legs, and lame ones: one would take it,
That never saw 'em pace before, the spavin Or springhalt reign'd among 'em. |
| Chamberlain | Death! my lord,
Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too, That, sure, they've worn out Christendom. |
| [Enter LOVELL] | |
| How now!
What news, Sir Thomas Lovell? | |
| LOVELL | Faith, my lord,
I hear of none, but the new proclamation That's clapp'd upon the court-gate. |
| Chamberlain | What is't for? |
| LOVELL | The reformation of our travell'd gallants,
That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors. |
| Chamberlain | I'm glad 'tis there: now I would pray our monsieurs
To think an English courtier may be wise, And never see the Louvre. |
| LOVELL | They must either,
For so run the conditions, leave those remnants Of fool and feather that they got in France, With all their honourable point of ignorance Pertaining thereunto, as fights and fireworks, Abusing better men than they can be, Out of a foreign wisdom, renouncing clean The faith they have in tennis, and tall stockings, Short blister'd breeches, and those types of travel, And understand again like honest men; Or pack to their old playfellows: there, I take it, They may, 'cum privilegio,' wear away The lag end of their lewdness and be laugh'd at. |
| SANDS | 'Tis time to give 'em physic, their diseases
Are grown so catching. |
| Chamberlain | What a loss our ladies
Will have of these trim vanities! |
| LOVELL | Ay, marry,
There will be woe indeed, lords: the sly whoresons Have got a speeding trick to lay down ladies; A French song and a fiddle has no fellow. |
| SANDS | The devil fiddle 'em! I am glad they are going,
For, sure, there's no converting of 'em: now An honest country lord, as I am, beaten A long time out of play, may bring his plainsong And have an hour of hearing; and, by'r lady, Held current music too. |
| Chamberlain | Well said, Lord Sands;
Your colt's tooth is not cast yet. |
| SANDS | No, my lord;
Nor shall not, while I have a stump. |
| Chamberlain | Sir Thomas,
Whither were you a-going? |
| LOVELL | To the cardinal's:
Your lordship is a guest too. |
| Chamberlain | O, 'tis true:
This night he makes a supper, and a great one, To many lords and ladies; there will be The beauty of this kingdom, I'll assure you. |
| LOVELL | That churchman bears a bounteous mind indeed,
A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us; His dews fall every where. |
| Chamberlain | No doubt he's noble;
He had a black mouth that said other of him. |
| SANDS | He may, my lord; has wherewithal: in him
Sparing would show a worse sin than ill doctrine: Men of his way should be most liberal; They are set here for examples. |
| Chamberlain | True, they are so:
But few now give so great ones. My barge stays; Your lordship shall along. Come, good Sir Thomas, We shall be late else; which I would not be, For I was spoke to, with Sir Henry Guildford This night to be comptrollers. |
| SANDS | I am your lordship's. |
| [Exeunt] |
| [Hautboys. A small table under a state for CARDINAL
WOLSEY, a longer table for the guests. Then enter ANNE and divers other Ladies and Gentlemen as guests, at one door; at another door, enter GUILDFORD] | |
| GUILDFORD | Ladies, a general welcome from his grace
Salutes ye all; this night he dedicates To fair content and you: none here, he hopes, In all this noble bevy, has brought with her One care abroad; he would have all as merry As, first, good company, good wine, good welcome, Can make good people. O, my lord, you're tardy: |
| [Enter Chamberlain, SANDS, and LOVELL] | |
| The very thought of this fair company
Clapp'd wings to me. | |
| Chamberlain | You are young, Sir Harry Guildford. |
| SANDS | Sir Thomas Lovell, had the cardinal
But half my lay thoughts in him, some of these Should find a running banquet ere they rested, I think would better please 'em: by my life, They are a sweet society of fair ones. |
| LOVELL | O, that your lordship were but now confessor
To one or two of these! |
| SANDS | I would I were;
They should find easy penance. |
| LOVELL | Faith, how easy? |
| SANDS | As easy as a down-bed would afford it. |
| Chamberlain | Sweet ladies, will it please you sit? Sir Harry,
Place you that side; I'll take the charge of this: His grace is entering. Nay, you must not freeze; Two women placed together makes cold weather: My Lord Sands, you are one will keep 'em waking; Pray, sit between these ladies. |
| SANDS | By my faith,
And thank your lordship. By your leave, sweet ladies: If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me; I had it from my father. |
| ANNE | Was he mad, sir? |
| SANDS | O, very mad, exceeding mad, in love too:
But he would bite none; just as I do now, He would kiss you twenty with a breath. |
| [Kisses her] | |
| Chamberlain | Well said, my lord.
So, now you're fairly seated. Gentlemen, The penance lies on you, if these fair ladies Pass away frowning. |
| SANDS | For my little cure,
Let me alone. |
| [Hautboys. Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, and takes his state] | |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | You're welcome, my fair guests: that noble lady,
Or gentleman, that is not freely merry, Is not my friend: this, to confirm my welcome; And to you all, good health. |
| [Drinks] | |
| SANDS | Your grace is noble:
Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks, And save me so much talking. |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | My Lord Sands,
I am beholding to you: cheer your neighbours. Ladies, you are not merry: gentlemen, Whose fault is this? |
| SANDS | The red wine first must rise
In their fair cheeks, my lord; then we shall have 'em Talk us to silence. |
| ANNE | You are a merry gamester,
My Lord Sands. |
| SANDS | Yes, if I make my play.
Here's to your ladyship: and pledge it, madam, For 'tis to such a thing,-- |
| ANNE | You cannot show me. |
| SANDS | I told your grace they would talk anon. |
| [Drum and trumpet, chambers discharged] | |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | What's that? |
| Chamberlain | Look out there, some of ye. |
| [Exit Servant] | |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | What warlike voice,
And to what end is this? Nay, ladies, fear not; By all the laws of war you're privileged. |
| [Re-enter Servant] | |
| Chamberlain | How now! what is't? |
| Servant | A noble troop of strangers;
For so they seem: they've left their barge and landed; And hither make, as great ambassadors From foreign princes. |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | Good lord chamberlain,
Go, give 'em welcome; you can speak the French tongue; And, pray, receive 'em nobly, and conduct 'em Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty Shall shine at full upon them. Some attend him. |
| [Exit Chamberlain, attended. All rise, and tables removed] | |
| You have now a broken banquet; but we'll mend it.
A good digestion to you all: and once more I shower a welcome on ye; welcome all. | |
| [Hautboys. Enter KING HENRY VIII and others, as
masquers, habited like shepherds, ushered by the Chamberlain. They pass directly before CARDINAL WOLSEY, and gracefully salute him] | |
| A noble company! what are their pleasures? | |
| Chamberlain | Because they speak no English, thus they pray'd
To tell your grace, that, having heard by fame Of this so noble and so fair assembly This night to meet here, they could do no less Out of the great respect they bear to beauty, But leave their flocks; and, under your fair conduct, Crave leave to view these ladies and entreat An hour of revels with 'em. |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | Say, lord chamberlain,
They have done my poor house grace; for which I pay 'em A thousand thanks, and pray 'em take their pleasures. |
| [They choose Ladies for the dance. KING HENRY VIII
chooses ANNE] | |
| KING HENRY VIII | The fairest hand I ever touch'd! O beauty,
Till now I never knew thee! |
| [Music. Dance] | |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | My lord! |
| Chamberlain | Your grace? |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | Pray, tell 'em thus much from me:
There should be one amongst 'em, by his person, More worthy this place than myself; to whom, If I but knew him, with my love and duty I would surrender it. |
| Chamberlain | I will, my lord. |
| [Whispers the Masquers] | |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | What say they? |
| Chamberlain | Such a one, they all confess,
There is indeed; which they would have your grace Find out, and he will take it. |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | Let me see, then.
By all your good leaves, gentlemen; here I'll make My royal choice. |
| KING HENRY VIII | Ye have found him, cardinal: |
| [Unmasking] | |
| You hold a fair assembly; you do well, lord:
You are a churchman, or, I'll tell you, cardinal, I should judge now unhappily. | |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | I am glad
Your grace is grown so pleasant. |
| KING HENRY VIII | My lord chamberlain,
Prithee, come hither: what fair lady's that? |
| Chamberlain | An't please your grace, Sir Thomas Bullen's daughter--
The Viscount Rochford,--one of her highness' women. |
| KING HENRY VIII | By heaven, she is a dainty one. Sweetheart,
I were unmannerly, to take you out, And not to kiss you. A health, gentlemen! Let it go round. |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | Sir Thomas Lovell, is the banquet ready
I' the privy chamber? |
| LOVELL | Yes, my lord. |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | Your grace,
I fear, with dancing is a little heated. |
| KING HENRY VIII | I fear, too much. |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | There's fresher air, my lord,
In the next chamber. |
| KING HENRY VIII | Lead in your ladies, every one: sweet partner,
I must not yet forsake you: let's be merry: Good my lord cardinal, I have half a dozen healths To drink to these fair ladies, and a measure To lead 'em once again; and then let's dream Who's best in favour. Let the music knock it. |
| [Exeunt with trumpets] |