The dramatic works of William Shakspeare, from the text of Johnson, Stevens [sic] and Reed, with glossarial notes, his life, and a critique on his genius & writings by N. Rowe

And pardon comes: I shall anon advise you
Further in the proceeding. [Exit SECRETARY.
Enter SURVEYOR.

Q. Kath. I am sorry, that the duke of Buck-
Is run in your displeasure.

[ingham
K. Hen. It grieves many: [speaker,
The gentleman is learn'd, and a most rare
To nature none more bound; his training such,
That he may furnish and instruct great teach-
And never seek for aid out* of himself. [ers,
Yet see,

When these so noble benefits shall prove
Not well dispos'd, the mind growing once
corrupt,
[ugly
They turn to vicious forms, ten times more
Than ever they were fair. This man so cóm-
plete,
[we,
Who was enroll'd 'mongst wonders, and when
Almost with ravish'd list'ning, 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 practices; whereof
We cannot feel too little, hear too much.
Wol. Stand forth; and with bold spirit re-
late what you,

Most like a careful subject, have collected
Out of the Duke of Buckingham.

K. Hen. Speak freely.

Surv. 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 words
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.

Q. Kath. My learn'd lord cardinal,

Deliver all with charity.

K. Hen. Speak on:

How grounded he his title to the crown,

Upon our fail; to this point hast thou heard

At any time speak aught?

Surv. He was brought to this

By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Hopkins.
K. Hen. What was that Hopkins?
Surv. Sir, a Chartreux friar,

His confessor; who fed him every minute
With words of sovereignty.

K. Hen. How know'st thou this?

[him

Sure. 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 amongst 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 Court, my chaplain, a choice hour
To hear from him a matter of some moment:
Whom after under the confession's seal

Go forward.

I told my lord the duke, By the devil's illusions
Sure. On my soul, I'll speak but truth.
The monk might be deceiv'd; and that 'twas
dang'rous for him,

To ruminate on this so far, until [liev'd,
It was much like to do: He answer'd, Tush!
It forg'd him some design, which, being be-
It can do me no damage: adding further,
The cardinal's and Sir Thomas Lovell's heads
That, had the king in his last sickness fail'd,
Should have gone off.

There's mischief in this man :-
K. Hen. Ha! what, so rank? Ah, ha!
-Canst thou
say further?
Surv. I can, my liege.
K. Hen. Proceed.

After your highness had reprov'd the duke
Surv. Being at Greenwich,
About Sir William Blomer,-

K. Hen. I remember,

Of such a time:-Being my servant sworn,
The duke retain'd him his.- -But on; What

hence?

granted,

As he made semblance of his duty, would
Have put his knife into him.

K. Hen. A giant traitor!

Wol. Now, madam, may his highness live in freedom,

And this man out of prison?

Q. Kath. God mend all!

K. Hen. There's something more would out of thee; What say'st?

Surv. After the duke his father,—with the knife,[dagger, Another spread on his breast, mounting his He stretch'd him, and, with one hand on his He did discharge a horrible oath; whose [tenour Was,-Were he evil us'd, he would outgo His father, by as much as a performance Does an irresolute purpose.

eyes,

K. Hen. There's his period,
Call him to present trial: if he may
To sheath his knife in us. He is attach'd;
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.

SCENE III-A Room in the Palace.

Enter the Lord CHAMBERLAIN, and Lord SANDS. Cham. Is it possible, the spells of France should juggle

For when they hold them, 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 them pace before, the spavin,
A springhalt+ reign'd among them.

Cham. Death! my lord,

Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too, That, sure, they have worn out Christendom. How now?

What news, Sir Thomas Lovell?

Enter Sir THOMAS LOVELL.

Lov. 'Faith, my lord,

I hear of none but the new proclamation
That's clapp'd upon the court-gate.
Cham. What is't for?

Lov. The reformation of our travell'd gallants,

[tailors. That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and Cham. I am glad, 'tis there; now I would pray our monsieurs

To think an English courtier may be wise,
And never see the Louvre.‡

Lov. They must either

[nants (For so run the conditions,) leave these remOf fool, and feather, that they got in France, With all their honourable points 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,

Cham. 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.
Lov. That churchman bears a bounteous
mind indeed,

A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us:
His dews fall every where.

Cham. No doubt, he's noble;

He had a black mouth, that said other of him. Sands. He may, my lord, he has wherewithal; in him, [trine: Sparing would show a worse sin than ill docMen of his way should be most liberal, They are set here for examples.

Cham. True, they are so;

[stays;* But few now give so great ones. My barge 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.

SCENE IV.-The Presence-Chumber in York

Place.

Hautboys. A small table under a stute for the
CARDINAL, a longer table for the guests. En-
ter at one door ANNE BULLEN, and divers
Lords, Ladies, and Gentlewomen, as guests;
at another door, enter Sir HENRY GUILDFORD.
Guild. Ladies, a general welcome from his
Salutes ye all: This night he dedicates
To fair content, and you: none here, he hopes,
In all this noble bevy,t has brought with her
One care abroad; he would have all as merry
As first-good company, good wine, good wel-

grace

come

Can make good people.- -O, my lord, you are tardy;

[travel, Enter Lord CHAMBERLAIN, Lord SANDS, and Sir THOMAS LOVELL.

Short blister'd breeches, and those types of
And understand again like honest men;
Or pack to their old playfellows: there I take
They may, cum privilegio,§ wear away Tit,
laugh'd

at.

Sands. 'Tis time to give them physic, their Are grown so catching. [diseases

Chum. What a loss our ladies Will have of these trim vanities! Lov. Ay, marry, [whoresons There will be woe indeed, lords; the sly Have got a speeding trick to lay down ladies; A French song, and a fiddle, has no fellow. Sands. The devil fiddle them! I am glad they're going;

(For, sure, there's no converting of them;) now An honest country lord, as I am, beaten A long time out of play, may bring his plain

song,

And have an hour of hearing; and, by'r-lady,

Held current music too.

Cham. Well said, lord Sands;
Your colt's tooth is not cast yet.
Sands. No, my lord;

Nor shall not, while I have a stump.
Cham. Sir Thomas,
Whither were you a-going?

Lov. To the cardinal's;

Your lordship is a guest too.

The very thought of this fair company
Clapp'd wings to me.

Cham. You are young, Sir Harry Guildford. Sunds. 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 them: By my life, They are a sweet society of fair ones.

Lov. O, that your lordship were but now [confessor To one or two of these!

Sands. I would, I were;

They should find easy penance.
Lov. 'Faith, how easy?

Sands. As easy as a down-bed would afford it.

Cham. Sweet ladies, will it please you sit?

Place you that side, I'll take the charge of Sir Harry, [this: His grace is ent'ring.-Nay, you must not freeze; [ther: Two women plac'd together makes cold weaMy lord Sands, you are one will keep them [waking; Pray, sit between these ladies. Sands. By my faith,

And thank your lordship.-By your leave,

sweet ladies:

[Seats himself between ANNE BULLEN and

another Lady.

Cham. Well said, my lord.So, now you are fairly seated:-Gentlemen, The penance lies on you, if these fair ladies Pass away frowning.

Sands. For my little cure,

Let me alone.

BERLAIN. They pass directly before the Cardinal, and gracefully salute him.

A noble company! what are their pleasures? Cham. Because they speak no English, thus they pray'd [fame To tell your grace;-That, having heard by 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 them.

Wol. Say, lord chamberlain,

Hautboys. Enter Cardinal WOLSEY, attended; They have done my poor house grace; for

and takes his state.*

Sands. Yes, if I make my play.t

which I pay them

A thousand thanks, and pray them take their pleasures.

[Ludies chosen for the dance. The KING choose's ANNE BULLEN.

K. Hen. The fairest hand I ever touch'd! O,

beauty,

Till now I never knew thee. [Music. Dance. Wol. My lord,

Cham. Your grace?

Wol. Pray, tell them thus much from me: There should be one amongst them, by his

grace

Here's to your ladyship; and pledge it, madam, Find out, and he will take it.*

For 'tis to such a thing,

Anne. You cannot show me.

Sands. I told your grace, they would talk

Wol. Let me see then.

[Comes from his state. By all your good leaves, gentlemen ;-Here I'll make

I must not yet forsake you :-Let's be merry;

Hautboys.-Enter the KING, and twelve others, as Muskers, habited like Shepherds, with six-Good my lord cardinal, I have half a dozen

leen Torch-bearers; ushered by the Lord CHAM

* Chair. + Choose my game. 1 Small cannon.

healths

The chief place. + Mischievously.

To drink to these fair ladies, and a measure To lead them once again; and then let's dream Who's best in favour.-Let the music knock it. [Exeunt, with trumpets. ACT II.

SCENE I-A Street.

Enter two GENTLEMEN, meeting.

1 Gent. Whither away so fast? 2 Gent. 0,-God save you! 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. Were you there?

1 Gent. Yes, indeed, was I.

2 Gent. Pray, speak, what has happen'd? 1 Gent. You may guess quickly what.

2 Gent. Is he found guilty?

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,
Urg'd on the examinations, proofs, confessions,
Of divers witnesses; which the duke desir'd
To him brought, viva voce, to his face:
At which appear'd against him, his surveyor;
Sir Gilbert Peck, his chancellor; and John
Court,

Confessor to him; with that devil-monk,
Hopkins, that made this mischief.

2 Gent. That was he,

That fed him with his prophecies?

1 Gent. The same.

1 Gent. When he was brought again to the bar,-to hear [stirr'd His knell wrung out, his judgement, he was With such an agony, he sweat extremely, And something spoke in choler, ill, and hasty: But he fell to himself again, and, sweetly, In all the rest show'd a most noble patience. 2 Gent. I do not think, he fears death. 1 Gent. Sure, he does not,

He never was so womanish; the cause
He may a little grieve at.

2 Gent. Certainly,

The cardinal is the end of this.

1 Gent. "Tis likely,

Py all conjectures: First, Kildare's attamder, Then deputy of Ireland; who remov'd,

Earl Surrey was sent thither, and in haste too, Lest he should help his father.

2 Gent. That trick of state

Was a deep envious one.

1 Gent. At his return,

No doubt he will requite it. This is noted,

* Dance.

And generally; whoever the king favours, The cardinal instantly will find employment, And far enough from court too.

2 Gent. All the commons Hate him perniciously, and, o' my conscience, Wish him ten fathom deep: this duke as much They love and dote on; call him, bounteous Buckingham,

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; Tipstuves before him, the axe with the edge towards him; halberts on each side: with him, Sir THOMAS 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, [me.
Hear what I say, and then go home and lose
I have this day receiv'd a traitor's judgement,
And by that name must die; Yet, heaven bear
witness,

And if I have a conscience, let it sink me,
Even as the axe falls, if I be not faithful!
The law I bear no malice for my death,
It has done, upon the premises, but justice.
But those, that sought it, I could wish more
Christians:

men;

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
[them.
For then my guiltless blood must cry against
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 fails on me,
Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice,
And lift my soul to heaven.-Lead on, o'God's

name.

(ly.

Lov. I do beseech your grace, for charity, If ever any malice in your heart Were hid against me, now to forgive me frankBuck. Sir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive As I would be forgiven: I forgive all; [you, There cannot be those numberless offences 'Gainst me, I can't take peace with: no black envy [grace; Shall make my grave.-Commend me to his And, if he speak of Buckingham, pray, tell him, [prayers You met him half in heaven: my vows and Yet are the king's; and, till my soul forsake me, Shall cry for blessings 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 shall lead him to his end, Goodness and he fill up one monument!

Lov. To the water side I must conduct your

606

KING HENRY VIII,

[ACT II.

When I came hither, I was lord high constable, | To the good queen, possess'd him with a
And duke of Buckingham; now, poor Ed-
ward Bohun:

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,
Flying for succour to his servant Banister,
Being distress'd, was by that wretch betray'd,
And without trial fell; God's peace be with
him!

Henry the seventh succeeding, truly pitying
My father's loss, like a most royal prince,
Restor'd me to my honours, and, out of ruins,
Made my name once more noble. Now his
son,

Henry the eighth, life, honour, name, and all
That made me happy, at one stroke has taken
For ever from the world. I had my trial,
And must needs say, a noble one; which
makes me

A little happier than my wretched father:
Yet thus far we are one in fortunes,-Both
Fell by our servants, by those men we lov'd
most;

A most unnatural and faithless service! [me,
Heaven has an end in all: yet you that hear
This from a dying man receive as certain:
Where you are liberal of your loves, and
counsels,
Be sure, you be not loose; for those you make
[friends,
And give your hearts to, when they once per-
ceive

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 for-
give 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! [Sir? Where may it be? You do not doubt my faith, 2 Gent. This secret is so weighty, 'twill reA strong faith to conceal it.

1 Gent. Let me have it;

I do not talk much.

2 Gent. I am confident;

[quire

scruple

That will undo her: To confirm this too,
Cardinal Campeius is arriv'd, and lately;
As all think, for this business.

And merely to revenge him on the emperor,
1 Gent. 'Tis the cardinal;
For not bestowing on him, at his asking,
The archbishoprick of Toledo, this is purpos'd.
2 Gent. I think you have hit the mark: But
is't not cruel,

That she should feel the smart of this? The

cardinal

Will have his will, and she must fall.
1 Gent. 'Tis woful.

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

[Exeunt.

SCENE 11-An Ante-chamber in the Palace.
Enter the Lord CHAMBERLAIN, reading a Letter.

Cham. My lord,-The horses your lordship sent for, with all the care I had, I saw well chosen, ridden, and furnished. They were young, and handsome; and of the best breed in the north. When they were ready to set out for London, a man of my lord cardinal's, by commission, and main power, took 'em from me; with this reason, not before the king: which stopped our mouths, -His master would be served before a subject, if

Sir.

He will have all, I think.
I fear, he will, indeed: Well, let him have
[them.

Enter the Dukes of NORFOLK and SUFFOLK.

Lord Chamberlain.

Nor. Well met, my good

Cham. Good day to both your graces.
Suf. How is the king employ'd?
Cham. I left him private,

Full of sad thoughts and troubles.
Nor. What's the cause?

Cham. It seems, the marriage with his bro-
Has crept too near his conscience.
ther's wife
Suf. No, his conscience
Has crept too near another lady.
Nor. 'Tis so;

This is the cardinal's doing, the king-cardinal:
That blind priest, like the eldest son of for

tune,

Turns what he lists. The king will know him one day.

Suf. Pray God, he do! he'll never know himself else.

Nor. How holily he works in all his busi

ness!

And with what zeal! For now he has crack'd the league

You shall, Sir: did you not of late days hear Between us and the emperor, the queen's

A buzzing, of a separation

Between the king and Katharine?

1 Gent. Yes, but it held not:

For when the king once heard it, out of anger
He sent command to the lord mayor, straight
To stop the rumour, and allay those tongues
That durst disperse it.

2 Gent. But that slander, 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 car-
dinal,

Or some about him near, have, out of malice

* Great fidelity

great nephew,

He dives into the king's soul, and there
scatters

Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience,
Fears, and despairs, and all these for his mar

riage:

And, out of all these to restore the king,
He counsels a divorce: a loss of her
About his neck, yet never lost her lustre ;
That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years
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 bless the king: and is not this course

pious?

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The dramatic works of William Shakspeare, from the text of Johnson, Stevens ...