And, pray, receive them nobly, and conduct them
Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty
Shall shine at full upon them:-Some attend him.-
[Exit Chamberlain, attended. All arise,
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 you;-Welcome all.

You have found him, cardinal:
[Unmasking.
You hold a fair assembly; you do well, my lord:
You are a churchman, or, I'll tell you, cardinal,
I should judge now unhappily.^
Wol.

I am glad,

Your grace is grown so pleasant.
K. Hen.
My lord chamberlain,
Pr'ythee, come hither: What fair lady's that?
Cham. An't please your grace, sir Thomas Bul-
len's daughter,

The viscount Rochford, one of her highness' women.
K. Hen. By heaven, she is a dainty one.-Sweet-
heart,

I were unmannerly, to take you out,
And not to kiss you.-A health, gentlemen,
Let it go round.

Wol. Sir Thomas Lovell, is the banquet ready
I'the privy chamber?

Lov.
Wol.

Yes, my lord.

I fear, with dancing is a little heated.
K. Hen. I fear, too much.
Wol.

In the next chamber.

Your grace,

There's fresher air, my lord,

K. Hen. Lead in your ladies, every one.-Sweet

partner,

I must not vet forsake you :-Let's be merry ;Hautboys. Enter the King, and twelve others, as Good my lord cardinal, I have half a dozen healths maskers, habited like Shepherds, with sixteen To drink to these fair ladies, and a measure' Torch-bearers; ushered by the Lord Chamber- To lead them once again: and then let's dream They pass directly before the Cardinal, Who's best in favour.-Let the music knock it. and gracefully salute him.

lain.

A noble company! what are their pleasures?
Cham. 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 con-
duct,

Crave leave to view these ladies, and entreat
An hour of revels with them.

Wol.
Say, lord chamberlain,
They have done my poor house grace; for which
I pay them

[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 A thousand thanks, and pray them take their plea-Of bringing back the prisoner. Were you there?

sures.

[Ladies chosen for the dance. The King
chooses Anne Bullen.

(1) Choose my game. (2) Small cannon.

2 Gent.

1 Gent. Yes, indeed, was I.

(3) The chief place. (4) Mischievously. (5) Dance.

2 Gent.

Pray, speak, what has happen'd? | Hear what I say, and then go home and lose me. 1 Gent. You may guess quickly what. I have this day receiv'd a traitor's judgment, 2 Gent. And by that name must die; Yet, heaven bear wit

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?

ness,

And, if I have a conscience, let it sink me,
Even as the axe falis, if I be not faithful!
The law I bear no malice for my death,

1 Gent. I'll tell you in a little. The great dukeIt has done, upon the premises, but justice:

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, vivâ 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 fed him with his prophecies? 1 Gent.

That was he,

The same.

All these accused 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
He spoke, and learnedly, for life: but all
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

But those, that sought it, I could wish more Chris

tians:

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,
Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice,
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.

Buck. Sir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive you,
As I would be forgiven: I forgive all;
There cannot be those numberless offences
'Gainst me, I can't take peace with: no black envy
Shall make my grave.-Commend me to his grace;
And, if he speak of Buckingham, pray, tell him,
You met him half in heaven: My vows and prayers
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'
Sure, he does not. 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!

His knell rung out, his judgment,-he was stirr'd
With such an agony, he sweat extremely,
And something spoke in choler, ill, and hasty:
Bat 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.

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,
Then deputy of Ireland; who remov'd,
Earl Surrey was sent thither, and in haste too,
Lest he should help his father,

2 Gent.

Was a deep envious one.

That trick of state,

1 Gent.
At his return,
No doubt, he will requite it. This is noted,
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.

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
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!
Enter Buckingham from his arraignment; Tip- My father's loss, like a most roval prince,,
Henry the Seventh succeeding, truly pitying
staves before him, the axe with the edge towards Restcr'd me to my honours, and out of ruins,
him; halberds on each side; with him, Sir Made my name once more noble. Now his son,
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,

VOL. II.

(1) Close,

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:

2F

A most unnatural and faithless service!
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 loves, 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 has 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 wo: 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.

You shall, sir: Did you not of late days hear

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 cardinal,
Or some about him near, have, out of malice
To the good queen, possess'd him with a scruple
That will undo her: To confirm this too,
Cardinal Campeius is arriv'd, and lately ;
As all think, for this business.

1 Gent.
'Tis the cardinal;
And merely to revenge him on the emperor,
For not bestowing on him, at his asking,
The archbishopric 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?
Will have his will, and she must fall.
1 Gent.

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

Nor. How holily he works in all his business!
And with what zea!! For, now he has crack'd the
Between us and the emperor, the queen's great
league
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,
That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years
About his neck, yet never lost her lustre ;
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?
Cham. Heaven keep me from such counsel: 'Tis

And free us from his slavery.
Nor. We had need pray,
And heartily, for our deliverance;

From princes into pages: all men's honours
Or this imperious man will work us all
The cardinal Into what pitch2 he please.
Lie in one lump before him, to be fashion'd
Suff

[Exeunt.

For me, my lords, 'Tis woful. I love him not, nor fear him; there's my creed: As I am made without him, so I'll stand, If the king please; his curses and his blessings SCENE II-An ante-chamber in the palace. I knew him, and I know him; so I leave him Touch me alike, they are breath I not believe in. Enter the Lord Chamberlain, reading a letter. To him, that made him proud, the pope.

Nor.

him:

My lord, you'll bear us company?

Let's in;

Excuse me;

Cham. My lord,-The horses your lordship sent And, with some other business, put the king for, with all the care I had, I saw well chosen, rid-From these sad thoughts, that work too much upon den, 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 Cham my lord cardinal's, by commission, and power, took 'em from me; with this reason,-His master would be served before a subject, if not before the king: which stopped our mouths, sir. I fear he will, indeed: Well, let him have them:

(1) Great fidchty.

main

You'll find a most unfit time to disturb him:
The king hath sent me other-where: Besides,
Health to your lordships.

Nor.

Thanks, my good lord chamberlain. [Exit Lord Chamberlain.

(2) High or low.

Norfolk opens a folding-door. The King is dis- | So dear in heart, not to deny her that
covered sitting, and reading pensively.
Suff. How sad he looks! sure, he is much af-

But to be commanded For ever by your grace, whose hand has rais'd me. [Aside. K. Hen. Come hither, Gardiner. [They converse apart. Cam. My lord of York, was not one doctor Pace

Who's there? my good lord cardinal ?-O my In this man's place before him.

Even of yourself, lord cardinal.

Wol.
How! of me?
Cam. They will not stick to say, you envied him;
And fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous,
Kept him a foreign man sill; which so griev'd him,
That he ran mad, and died.

Wol.
Heaven's peace be with him!
That's christian care enough: for living murmurers,
There's places of rebuke. He was a fool;
For he would needs be virtuous: That good fellow,
Aside.If I command him, follows my appointinent;
I will have none so near else. Learn this, brother,
We live not to be grip'd by meaner persons,

Have their free voices; Rome, the nurse of judg-SCENE III-An ante-chamber in the Queen's

you,

For all this spice of your hypocrisy :

You, that have so fair parts of woman on you,
Hive too a woman's heart; which ever yet
Affected eminence, wealth, sovereignty;

Which, to say sooth,' are blessings: and which
gifts

(Saving your mincing) the capacity

Of your soft cheveril conscience would receive,
If you might please to stretch it.
Anne.

Nay, good troth,Old L. Yes, troth, and troth,-You would not be a queen?

Anne. No, not for all the riches under heaven,
Old L. 'Tis strange; a three-pence bow'ds
would hire me,

Old as I am, to queen it: But, I pray you,
What think you of a duchess? have you limbs
To bear that load of title?

Anne.

No, in truth.

yet,

But from this lady may proceed a gem,
To lighten all this isle 7-I'll to the king,
And say, I spoke with you.
Anne.

My honour'd lord.
[Exit Lord Chamberlain,
Old L. Why, this it is; see, see!
I have been begging sixteen years in court,
(Am yet a courtier beggarly,) nor could
Come pat betwixt too early and too late,
For any suit of pounds: and you, (O fate!)
A very fresh-fish here, (fie, fie upon
This compell'd fortune!) have your mouth fill'd up,
Before you open it.
Anne,
This is strange to me.
Old L. How tastes it? is it bitter? forty pence, no
There was a lady once ('tis an old story,)
That would not be a queen, that would she not,
For all the mud in Egypt:-Have you heard it?

Old L. Then you are weakly made: Pluck off Anne. Come, you are pleasant.

a little;

I would not be a young count in your way,

For more than blushing comes to: if your back
Cannot vouchsafe this burden, 'tis too weak
Ever to get a boy.

Anne.

How you do talk!
I swear again, I would not be a queen
For all the world,

Old L.

In faith for little England
You'd venture an emballing: I myself
Would for Carnarvonshire, although there 'lon'd
No more to the crown but that. Lo, who comes
here?

Enter the Lord Chamberlain,

Old L.
With your theme, I could
O'ermount the lark. The marchioness of Pembroke!
A thousand pounds a year! for pure respect;
No other obligation: By my life,

That promises more thousands: Honour's train
Is longer than his foreskirt. By this time,
I know, your back will bear a duchess;-Say,
Are you not stronger than you were?
Anne,
Good lady,

Make yourself mirth with your particular fancy,
And leave me out on't. 'Would I had no being,
If this salute my blood a jot; it faints me,
To think what follows,

The queen is comfortless, and we forgetful
In our long absence: Pray, do not deliver

Cham. Good-morrow, ladies. What were't worth What here you have heard, to her. to know

Old L. What do you think me? [Exeunt, SCENE IV.-A Hall in Black-Friars. Trumpets, sennet, and cornets. Enter two Vergers, with short silver wands; next them, two Scribes, in the habits of doctors; after them, the Archbishop of Canterbury alone; after him, the Bishops of Lincoln, Ely, Rochester, and Saint Asaph; next them, with some small distance, follows a gentleman bearing the purse, with the great seal, and a cardinal's hat; then two Priests, bearing each a silver cross; then a Gentleman Usher bare-headed, accompanied with a Serjeant at Arms, bearing a silver mace; then two Gen tlemen, bearing two great silver pillars; after them, side by side, the two Cardinals, Wolsey and Campeius; two Noblemen with the sword andl mace, Then enter the King and Queen, and their trains. The King takes place under the cloth of state; the two Cardinals sit under him as judges, The Queen takes place at some (6) Opinion. (7) Flourish on cornets. (9) Ensigus of dignity carried before cardinals.