Complete Plays, The (285 page)

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

S
CENE
IV. A H
ALL
IN
Y
ORK
P
LACE
.

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

A
CT
II

S
CENE
I. W
ESTMINSTER
. A
STREET
.

Enter two Gentlemen, meeting

First Gentleman

Whither away so fast?

Second Gentleman

O, God save ye!
Even to the hall, to hear what shall become
Of the great Duke of Buckingham.

First Gentleman

I’ll save you
That labour, sir. All’s now done, but the ceremony
Of bringing back the prisoner.

Second Gentleman

Were you there?

First Gentleman

Yes, indeed, was I.

Second Gentleman

Pray, speak what has happen’d.

First Gentleman

You may guess quickly what.

Second Gentleman

Is he found guilty?

First Gentleman

Yes, truly is he, and condemn’d upon’t.

Second Gentleman

I am sorry for’t.

First Gentleman

 
So are a number more.

Second Gentleman

But, pray, how pass’d it?

First Gentleman

I’ll tell you in a little. The great duke
Came to the bar; where to his accusations
He pleaded still not guilty and alleged
Many sharp reasons to defeat the law.
The king’s attorney on the contrary
Urged on the examinations, proofs, confessions
Of divers witnesses; which the duke desired
To have brought viva voce to his face:
At which appear’d against him his surveyor;
Sir Gilbert Peck his chancellor; and John Car,
Confessor to him; with that devil-monk,
Hopkins, that made this mischief.

Second Gentleman

That was he
That fed him with his prophecies?

First Gentleman

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.

Second Gentleman

After all this, how did he bear himself?

First Gentleman

When he was brought again to the bar, to hear
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:
But he fell to himself again, and sweetly
In all the rest show’d a most noble patience.

Second Gentleman

I do not think he fears death.

First Gentleman

Sure, he does not:
He never was so womanish; the cause
He may a little grieve at.

Second Gentleman

Certainly
The cardinal is the end of this.

First Gentleman

’Tis likely,
By all conjectures: first, Kildare’s attainder,
Then deputy of Ireland; who removed,
Earl Surrey was sent thither, and in haste too,
Lest he should help his father.

Second Gentleman

That trick of state
Was a deep envious one.

First Gentleman

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.

Second Gentleman

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;—

First Gentleman

Stay there, sir,
And see the noble ruin’d man you speak of.

Enter Buckingham from his arraignment; tip-staves before him; the axe with the edge towards him; halberds on each side: accompanied with Lovell, Vaux, Sands, and common people

Second Gentleman

Let’s stand close, and behold him.

Buckingham

All good people,
You that thus far have come to pity me,
Hear what I say, and then go home and lose me.
I have this day received a traitor’s judgment,
And by that name must die: yet, heaven bear witness,
And if I have a co nscience, let it sink me,
Even as the axe falls, if I be not faithful!
The law I bear no malice for my death;
’T has done, upon the premises, but justice:
But those that sought it I could wish more Christians:
Be what they will, I heartily forgive ’em:
Yet let ’em look they glory not in mischief,
Nor build their evils on the graves of great men;
For then my guiltless blood must cry against ’em.
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 loved 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.