Henry The Eighth (Folio 1, 1623)
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The Famous History of the Life of
King HENRY the Eight.
1
THE PROLOGVE.
¶I Come no more to make you laugh, Things now,
¶That beare a Weighty, and a Serious Brow,
¶Sad, high, and working, full of State and Woe:
5Such Noble Scoenes, as draw the Eye to flow
¶May (if they thinke it well) let fall a Teare,
¶The Subiect will deserue it. Such as giue
¶Their Money out of hope they may beleeue,
¶Richly in two short houres. Onely they
15That come to heare a Merry, Bawdy Play,
¶In a long Motley Coate, garded with Yellow,
¶Will be deceyu'd. For gentle Hearers, know
20As Foole, and Fight is, beside forfeyting
¶Our owne Braines, and the Opinion that we bring
¶To make that onely true, we now intend,
¶Will leaue vs neuer an vnderstanding Friend.
¶The very Persons of our Noble Story,
¶As they were Liuing: Thinke you see them Great,
¶And follow'd with the generall throng, and sweat
¶And if you can be merry then, Ile say,
¶A Man may weepe vpon his Wedding day.
¶
Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.
35
Enter the Duke of Norfolke at one doore. At the other,
¶
Buckingham.
¶GOod morrow, and well met. How haue ye done
¶Norf. I thanke your Grace:
¶Of what I saw there.
¶Buck. An vntimely Ague
45Staid me a Prisoner in my Chamber, when
¶Met in the vale of Andren.
¶Nor. 'Twixt Guynes and Arde,
50Beheld them when they lighted, how they clung
¶In their Embracement, as they grew together,
¶Which had they,
¶What foure Thron'd ones could haue weigh'd
¶Such a compounded one?
55Buck. All the whole time
¶I was my Chambers Prisoner.
¶The view of earthly glory: Men might say
¶Till this time Pompe was single, but now married
60To one aboue it selfe. Each following day
¶Made former Wonders, it's. To day the French,
¶All Clinquant all in Gold, like Heathen Gods
¶Shone downe the English; and to morrow, they
65Made Britaine, India: Euery man that stood,
¶Shew'd like a Mine. Their Dwarfish Pages were
¶As Cherubins, all gilt: the Madams too,
¶The Pride vpon them, that their very labour
70Was to them, as a Painting. Now this Maske
¶Was cry'de incompareable; and th'ensuing night
¶Made it a Foole, and Begger. The two Kings
¶The Noble Spirits to Armes, they did performe
¶That Beuis was beleeu'd.
¶Buc. Oh you go farre.
85In Honor, Honesty, the tract of eu'ry thing,
¶Which Actions selfe, was tongue too.
¶Buc. All was Royall,
90Order gaue each thing view. The Office did
¶Distinctly his full Function: who did guide,
¶I meane who set the Body, and the Limbes
¶Of this great Sport together?
95One certes, that promises no Element
¶Buc. I pray you who, my Lord?
¶Of the right Reuerend Cardinall of Yorke.
¶From his Ambitious finger. What had he
¶To do in these fierce Vanities? I wonder,
¶That such a Keech can with his very bulke
¶Take vp the Rayes o'th'beneficiall Sun,
105And keepe it from the Earth.
¶Nor. Surely Sir,
110For high feats done to'th'Crowne; neither Allied
¶Out of his Selfe-drawing Web. O giues vs note,
¶The force of his owne merit makes his way
¶A guift that heauen giues for him, which buyes
115A place next to the King.
¶Abur. I cannot tell
¶What Heauen hath giuen him: let some Grauer eye
¶Pierce into that, but I can see his Pride
¶Peepe through each part of him: whence ha's he that,
120If not from Hell? The Diuell is a Niggard,
¶Or ha's giuen all before, and he begins
¶A new Hell in himselfe.
¶Buc. Why the Diuell,
¶Vpon this French going out, tooke he vpon him
125(Without the priuity o'th'King) t'appoint
¶Who should attend on him? He makes vp the File
¶To whom as great a Charge, as little Honor
¶He meant to lay vpon: and his owne Letter
130The Honourable Boord of Councell, out
¶Must fetch him in, he Papers.
¶Abur. I do know
135They shall abound as formerly.
¶Buc. O many
¶Haue broke their backes with laying Mannors on 'em
¶For this great Iourney. What did this vanity
¶But minister communication of
¶Nor. Greeuingly I thinke,
¶The Peace betweene the French and vs, not valewes
¶The Cost that did conclude it.
¶Buc. Euery man,
145After the hideous storme that follow'd, was
¶Dashing the Garment of this Peace, aboaded
¶The sodaine breach on't.
150Nor. Which is budded out,
¶For France hath flaw'd the League, and hath attach'd
¶Our Merchants goods at Burdeux.
¶Abur. Is it therefore
155Nor. Marry is't.
¶Abur. A proper Title of a Peace, and purchas'd
¶At a superfluous rate.
¶Our Reuerend Cardinall carried.
160Nor. Like it your Grace,
¶The State takes notice of the priuate difference
¶Betwixt you, and the Cardinall. I aduise you
¶(And take it from a heart, that wishes towards you
¶Honor, and plenteous safety) that you reade
165The Cardinals 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 Reuengefull; and I know, his Sword
¶It reaches farre, and where 'twill not extend,
¶You'l finde it wholesome. Loe, where comes that Rock
¶That I aduice your shunning.
175
Enter Cardinall Wolsey, the Purse borne before him, certaine
¶
of the Guard, and two Secretaries with Papers: The
¶
Cardinall in his passage, fixeth his eye on Buck-
¶
ham, and Buckingham on him,
¶
both full of disdaine.
180Car. The Duke of Buckinghams Surueyor? Ha?
¶Where's his Examination?
¶
Exeunt Cardinall, and his Traine.
¶Buc. This Butchers Curre is venom'd-mouth'd, and I
¶Haue not the power to muzzle him, therefore best
190Not wake him in his slumber. A Beggers booke,
¶Out-worths a Nobles blood.
¶Nor. What are you chaff'd?
¶Aske God for Temp'rance, that's th'appliance onely
195Buc. I read in's looks
¶Matter against me, and his eye reuil'd
¶Me as his abiect obiect, at this instant
¶He bores me with some tricke; He's gone to'th'King:
¶Ile follow, and out-stare him.
200Nor. Stay my Lord,
¶What 'tis you go about: to climbe steepe hilles
¶A full hot Horse, who being allow'd his way
205Selfe-mettle tyres him: Not a man in England
¶As you would to your Friend.
¶Buc. Ile to the King,
¶And from a mouth of Honor, quite cry downe
¶There's difference in no persons.
¶Norf. Be aduis'd;
¶Heat not a Furnace for your foe so hot
¶And lose by ouer-running: know you not,
¶The fire that mounts the liquor til't run ore,
¶Buck. Sir,
¶I am thankfull to you, and Ile goe along
225By your prescription: but this top-proud fellow,
¶Whom from the flow of gall I name not, but
¶From sincere motions, by Intelligence,
¶And proofes as cleere as Founts in Iuly, when
¶Wee see each graine of grauell; I doe know
230To be corrupt and treasonous.
¶As shore of Rocke: attend. This holy Foxe,
¶Or Wolfe, or both (for he is equall rau'nous
¶As able to perform't) his minde, and place
¶Infecting one another, yea reciprocally,
¶Only to shew his pompe, as well in France,
¶Did breake ith'wrenching.
¶Buck. Pray giue me fauour Sir: This cunning Cardinall
245The Articles o'th'Combination drew
¶As himselfe pleas'd; and they were ratified
¶As he cride thus let be, to as much end,
¶As giue a Crutch to th'dead. But our Count-Cardinall
¶Has done this, and tis well: for worthy Wolsey
250(Who cannot erre) he did it. Now this followes,
¶(Which as I take it, is a kinde of Puppie
¶To th'old dam Treason) Charles the Emperour,
¶Vnder pretence to see the Queene his Aunt,
¶(For twas indeed his colour, but he came
¶His feares were that the Interview betwixt
¶England and France, might through their amity
¶Breed him some preiudice; for from this League,
¶Peep'd harmes that menac'd him. Priuily
260Deales with our Cardinal, and as I troa
¶Which I doe well; for I am sure the Emperour
¶Paid ere he promis'd, whereby his Suit was granted
¶Ere it was ask'd. But when the way was made
¶And pau'd with gold: the Emperor thus desir'd,
¶And breake the foresaid peace. Let the King know
¶And for his owne aduantage.
¶To heare this of him; and could wish he were
¶Somthing mistaken in't.
¶I doe pronounce him in that very shape
275He shall appeare in proofe.
¶
Enter Brandon, a Sergeant at Armes before him, and
¶
two or three of the Guard.
¶Brandon. Your Office Sergeant: execute it.
¶Sergeant. Sir,
280My Lord the Duke of Buckingham, and Earle
¶Of Hertford, Stafford and Northampton, I
¶Of our most Soueraigne King.
¶Buck. Lo you my Lord,
¶Vnder deuice, and practise.
¶To see you tane from liberty, to looke on
290You shall to th'Tower.
¶Buck. It will helpe me nothing
¶To plead mine Innocence; for that dye is on me
¶Which makes my whit'st part, black. The will of Heau'n
¶Be done in this and all things: I obey.
295O my Lord Aburgany: Fare you well.
¶Is pleas'd you shall to th'Tower, till you know
¶How he determines further.
300The will of Heauen be done, and the Kings pleasure
¶By me obey'd.
¶Bran. Here is a warrant from
¶The King, t'attach Lord Mountacute, and the Bodies
305One Gilbert Pecke, his Councellour.
¶These are the limbs o'th'Plot: no more I hope.
¶Bra. A Monke o'th'Chartreux.
¶Buck. O Michaell Hopkins?
310Bra. He.
¶Buck. My Surueyor is falce: The ore-great Cardinall
¶I am the shadow of poore Buckingham,
315By Darkning my cleere Sunne. My Lords farewell.
Exe.
¶
Scena Secunda.
¶
Cornets. Enter King Henry, leaning on the Cardinals shoul-
¶
der, the Nobles, and Sir Thomas Louell: the Cardinall
¶
places himselfe vnder the Kings feete on
320
his right side.
¶Thankes you for this great care: I stood i'th'leuell
¶Of a full-charg'd confederacie, and giue thankes
¶To you that choak'd it. Let be cald before vs
325That Gentleman of Buckinghams, in person,
¶He shall againe relate.
¶
A noyse within crying roome for the Queene, vsher'd by the
330
Duke of Norfolke. Enter the Queene, Norfolke and
¶
Suffolke: she kneels. King riseth from his State,
¶
takes her vp, kisses and placeth
¶
her by him.
¶Neuer name to vs; you haue halfe our power:
¶The other moity ere you aske is giuen,
¶Repeat your will, and take it.
340That you would loue your selfe, and in that loue
¶Not vnconsidered leaue your Honour, nor
¶The dignity of your Office; is the poynt
¶Of my Petition.
¶Kin. Lady mine proceed.
¶And those of true condition; That your Subiects
¶Sent downe among 'em, which hath flaw'd the heart
¶Of all their Loyalties; wherein, although
350My good Lord Cardinall, they vent reproches
¶Most bitterly on you, as putter on
¶Language vnmannerly; yea, such which breakes
¶In lowd Rebellion.
¶It doth appeare; for, vpon these Taxations,
¶The Clothiers all not able to maintaine
360The many to them longing, haue put off
¶The Spinsters, Carders, Fullers, Weauers, who
¶Vnfit for other life, compeld by hunger
¶And lack of other meanes, in desperate manner
¶Daring th'euent too th'teeth, are all in vprore,
365And danger serues among them.
¶Kin. Taxation?
¶Wherein? and what Taxation? My Lord Cardinall,
¶You that are blam'd for it alike with vs,
¶Know you of this Taxation?
¶I know but of a single part in ought
¶Pertaines to th'State; and front but in that File
¶Where others tell steps with me.
¶Queen. No, my Lord?
375You know no more then others? But you frame
¶Things that are knowne alike, which are not wholsome
¶Perforce be their acquaintance. These exactions
¶(Whereof my Soueraigne would haue note) they are
¶The Backe is Sacrifice to th'load; They say
¶Too hard an exclamation.
¶Kin. Still Exaction:
385The nature of it, in what kinde let's know,
¶Is this Exaction?
¶Queen. I am much too venturous
¶In tempting of your patience; but am boldned
¶Vnder your promis'd pardon. The Subiects griefe
¶Without delay; and the pretence for this
¶Is nam'd, your warres in France: this makes bold mouths,
¶Tongues spit their duties out, and cold hearts freeze
395Allegeance in them; their curses now
¶This tractable obedience is a Slaue
¶Would giue it quicke consideration; for
¶Kin. By my life,
¶Card. And for me,
¶I haue no further gone in this, then by
¶By learned approbation of the Iudges: If I am
¶Traduc'd by ignorant Tongues, which neither know
¶My faculties nor person, yet will be
¶The Chronicles of my doing: Let me say,
410'Tis but the fate of Place, and the rough Brake
¶To cope malicious Censurers, which euer,
415That is new trim'd; but benefit no further
¶Then vainly longing. What we oft doe best,
¶By sicke Interpreters (once weake ones) is
¶Not ours, or not allow'd; what worst, as oft
¶In feare our motion will be mock'd, or carp'd at,
¶Or sit State-Statues onely.
¶Kin. Things done well,
425And with a care, exempt themselues from feare:
¶Are to be fear'd. Haue you a President
¶We must not rend our Subiects from our Lawes,
430And sticke them in our Will. Sixt part of each?
¶A trembling Contribution; why we take
¶From euery Tree, lop, barke, and part o'th'Timber:
¶And though we leaue it with a roote thus hackt,
¶The Ayre will drinke the Sap. To euery County
¶Free pardon to each man that has deny'de
¶I put it to your care.
¶Card. A word with you.
440Let there be Letters writ to euery Shire,
¶Of the Kings grace and pardon: the greeued Commons
¶Hardly conceiue of me. Let it be nois'd,
445Further in the proceeding.
Exit Secret.
¶
Enter Surueyor.
¶Kin. It grieues many:
450The Gentleman is Learn'd, and a most rare Speaker,
¶To Nature none more bound; his trayning such,
455Not well dispos'd, the minde growing once corrupt,
¶They turne to vicious formes, ten times more vgly
¶Then euer they were faire. This man so compleat,
¶Who was enrold 'mongst wonders; and when we
460His houre of speech, a minute: He, (my Lady)
¶Hath into monstrous habits put the Graces
¶That once were his, and is become as blacke,
¶(This was his Gentleman in trust) of him
¶The fore-recited practises, whereof
¶We cannot feele too little, heare too much.
¶Most like a carefull Subiect haue collected
470Out of the Duke of Buckingham.
¶Kin. Speake freely.
¶It would infect his Speech: That if the King
475To make the Scepter his. These very words
¶I'ue heard him vtter to his Sonne in Law,
¶Lord Aburgany, to whom by oth he menac'd
¶Reuenge vpon the Cardinall.
480This dangerous conception in this point,
¶Beyond you to your friends.
¶Queen. My learn'd Lord Cardinall,
485Deliuer all with Charity.
¶Kin. Speake on;
¶How grounded hee his Title to the Crowne
¶Vpon our faile; to this poynt hast thou heard him,
¶At any time speake ought?
490Sur. He was brought to this,
¶By a vaine Prophesie of Nicholas Henton.
¶Kin. What was that Henton?
¶Sur. Sir, a Chartreux Fryer,
495With words of Soueraignty.
¶Saint Laurence Poultney, did of me demand
500What was the speech among the Londoners,
¶Concerning the French Iourney. I replide,
¶Men feare the French would proue perfidious
¶To the Kings danger: presently, the Duke
¶Said, 'twas the feare indeed, and that he doubted
505'Twould proue the verity of certaine words
¶Spoke by a holy Monke, that oft, sayes he,
¶Iohn de la Car, my Chaplaine, a choyce howre
¶To heare from him a matter of some moment:
¶My Chaplaine to no Creature liuing, but
¶To me, should vtter, with demure Confidence,
¶To the loue o'th'Commonalty, the Duke
¶Shall gouerne England.
¶Queen. If I know you well,
¶You were the Dukes Surueyor, and lost your Office
520On the complaint o'th'Tenants; take good heed
¶Yes, heartily beseech you.
¶Kin. Let him on: Goe forward.
¶I told my Lord the Duke, by th'Diuels illusions
¶The Monke might be deceiu'd, and that 'twas dangerous
¶For this to ruminate on this so farre, vntill
¶It can doe me no damage; adding further,
¶The Cardinals and Sir Thomas Louels heads
¶Should haue gone off.
¶Sur. I can my Liedge.
¶Kin. Proceed.
¶Sur. Being at Greenwich,
¶About Sir William Blumer.
¶The Duke retein'd him his. But on: what hence?
¶Sur. If (quoth he) I for this had beene committed,
545As to the Tower, I thought; I would haue plaid
¶The Part my Father meant to act vpon
¶(As he made semblance of his duty) would
550Haue put his knife into him.
¶Kin. A Gyant Traytor.
¶Card. Now Madam, may his Highnes liue in freedome,
¶And this man out of Prison.
¶Queen. God mend all.
¶Sur. After the Duke his Father, with the knife
¶He stretch'd him, and with one hand on his dagger,
560Was, were he euill vs'd, he would outgoe
¶His Father, by as much as a performance
¶Kin. There's his period,
¶To sheath his knife in vs: he is attach'd,
565Call him to present tryall: if he may
¶Finde mercy in the Law, 'tis his; if none,
¶Let him not seek't of vs: By day and night
¶Hee's Traytor to th'height.
Exeunt.
¶
Scæna Tertia.
570
Enter L. Chamberlaine and L. Sandys.
¶Though they be neuer so ridiculous,
575(Nay let 'em be vnmanly) yet are follow'd.
¶Haue got by the late Voyage, is but meerely
¶A fit or two o'th'face, (but they are shrewd ones)
¶For when they hold 'em, you would sweare directly
580Their very noses had been Councellours
¶To Pepin or Clotharius, they keepe State so.
¶L. San. They haue all new legs,
¶And lame ones; one would take it,
¶That neuer see 'em pace before, the Spauen
585A Spring-halt rain'd among 'em.
¶L. Ch. Death my Lord,
¶Their cloathes are after such a Pagan cut too't,
¶What newes, Sir Thomas Louell?
590
Enter Sir Thomas Louell.
¶Louell. Faith my Lord,
¶I heare of none but the new Proclamation,
¶That's clapt vpon the Court Gate.
¶L. Cham. What is't for?
595Lou. The reformation of our trauel'd Gallants,
¶That fill the Court with quarrels, talke, and Taylors.
¶L. Cham. I'm glad 'tis there;
¶Now I would pray our Monsieurs
600And neuer see the Louure.
¶Of Foole and Feather, that they got in France,
¶With all their honourable points of ignorance
605Pertaining thereunto; as Fights and Fire-workes,
¶Abusing better men then they can be
¶Out of a forreigne wisedome, renouncing cleane
¶The faith they haue in Tennis and tall Stockings,
¶Or pack to their old Playfellowes; there, I take it,
¶They may Cum Pruiilegio, wee away
615Are growne so catching.
¶Will haue of these trim vanities?
¶Louell. I marry,
620Haue got a speeding tricke to lay downe Ladies.
¶A French Song, and a Fiddle, ha's no Fellow.
¶L. San. The Diuell fiddle 'em,
¶I am glad they are going,
¶For sure there's no conuerting of 'em: now
625An honest Country Lord as I am, beaten
¶A long time out of play, may bring his plaine song,
¶And haue an houre of hearing, and by'r Lady
¶Held currant Musicke too.
630Your Colts tooth is not cast yet?
¶L. San. No my Lord,
¶L. Cham. Sir Thomas,
¶Whither were you a going?
635Lou. To the Cardinals;
¶L. Cham. O, 'tis true;
¶This night he makes a Supper, and a great one,
¶To many Lords and Ladies; there will be
¶Lou. That Churchman
¶Beares a bounteous minde indeed,
¶A hand as fruitfull as the Land that feeds vs,
¶His dewes fall euery where.
645L. Cham. No doubt hee's Noble;
¶He had a blacke mouth that said other of him.
¶L. San. He may my Lord,
¶Ha's wherewithall in him;
¶They are set heere for examples.
¶But few now giue so great ones:
¶My Barge stayes;
¶For I was spoke to, with Sir Henry Guilford
¶This night to be Comptrollers.
660
Scena Quarta.
¶
Hoboies. A small Table vnder a State for the Cardinall, a
¶
longer Table for the Guests. Then Enter Anne Bullen,
¶
and diuers other Ladies, & Gentlemen, as Guests
¶
at one Doore; at an other Doore enter
665
Sir Henry Guilford.
¶S.Hen. Guilf. Ladyes,
¶A generall welcome from his Grace
¶Salutes ye all; This Night he dedicates
¶To faire content, and you: None heere he hopes
670In all this Noble Beuy, has brought with her
¶One care abroad: hee would haue all as merry:
¶As first, good Company, good wine, good welcome,
¶Can make good people.
¶
Enter L. Chamberlaine L. Sands, and Louell.
675O my Lord, y'are tardy;
¶The very thought of this faire Company,
¶Clapt wings to me.
¶Cham. You are young Sir Harry Guilford.
¶San. Sir Thomas Louell, had the Cardinall
¶Should finde a running Banket, ere they rested,
¶I thinke would better please 'em: by my life,
685To one or two of these.
¶San. I would I were,
¶Place you that side, Ile take the charge of this:
¶His Grace is entring. Nay, you must not freeze,
¶Two women plac'd together, makes cold weather:
¶My Lord Sands, you are one will keepe 'em waking:
¶San. By my faith,
¶If I chance to talke a little wilde, forgiue me:
¶I had it from my Father.
700An. Bul. Was he mad Sir?
¶San. O very mad, exceeding mad, in loue too;
¶But he would bite none, iust as I doe now,
705So now y'are fairely seated: Gntlemen,
¶The pennance lyes on you; if these faire Ladies
¶San. For my little Cure,
¶Let me alone.
710
Hoboyes. Enter Cardinall Wolsey, and takes his State.
¶Or Gentleman that is not freely merry
¶Is not my Friend. This to confirme my welcome,
¶And to you all good health.
715San. Your Grace is Noble,
¶Let me haue such a Bowle may hold my thankes,
¶Card. My Lord Sands,
¶I am beholding to you: cheere your neighbours:
720Ladies you are not merry; Gentlemen,
¶Whose fault is this?
¶In their faire cheekes my Lord, then wee shall haue 'em,
¶Talke vs to silence.
¶My Lord Sands.
¶San. Yes, if I make my play:
¶Heer's to your Ladiship, and pledge it Madam:
¶For tis to such a thing.
¶
Drum and Trumpet, Chambers dischargd.
¶San. I told your Grace, they would talke anon.
¶Card. What's that?
735Card. What warlike voyce,
¶And to what end is this? Nay, Ladies, feare not;
¶By all the lawes of Warre y'are priuiledg'd.
¶
Enter a Seruant.
¶Cham. How now, what is't?
740Seru. A noble troupe of Strangers,
¶From forraigne Princes.
¶Card. Good Lord Chamberlaine,
745Go, giue 'em welcome; you can speake the French tongue
¶And pray receiue 'em Nobly, and conduct 'em
¶Into our presence, where this heauen of beauty
¶Shall shine at full vpon them. Some attend him.
¶
All rise, and Tables remou'd.
750You haue now a broken Banket, but wee'l mend it.
¶A good digestion to you all; and once more
¶I showre a welcome on yee: welcome all.
¶
Hoboyes. Enter King and others as Maskers, habited like
¶A noble Company: what are their pleasures?
¶To tell your Grace: That hauing heard by fame
¶(Out of the great respect they beare to beauty)
¶But leaue their Flockes, and vnder your faire Conduct
¶Craue leaue to view these Ladies, and entreat
765An houre of Reuels with 'em.
¶Card. Say, Lord Chamberlaine,
¶They haue done my poore house grace:
¶For which I pay 'em a thousand thankes,
¶And pray 'em take their pleasures.
770
Choose Ladies, King and An Bullen.
¶Till now I neuer knew thee.
¶
Musicke, Dance.
¶Card. My Lord.
775Cham. Your Grace.
¶Card. Pray tell 'em thus much from me:
¶More worthy this place then my selfe, to whom
¶(If I but knew him) with my loue and duty
780I would surrender it.
Whisper.
¶Cham. I will my Lord.
¶There is indeed, which they would haue your Grace
785Find out, and he will take it.
¶By all your good leaues Gentlemen; heere Ile make
¶My royall choyce.
¶Kin. Ye haue found him Cardinall,
¶You are a Churchman, or Ile tell you Cardinall,
¶I should iudge now vnhappily.
¶Card. I am glad
795Kin. My Lord Chamberlaine,
¶Prethee come hither, what faire Ladie's that?
¶Sir Thomas Bullens Daughter, the Viscount Rochford,
¶I were vnmannerly to take you out,
¶Let it goe round.
¶Card. Sir Thomas Louell, is the Banket ready
805I'th'Priuy Chamber?
¶Lou. Yes, my Lord.
¶Card. Your Grace
¶I feare, with dancing is a little heated.
¶Kin. I feare too much.
¶In the next Chamber.
¶Kin. Lead in your Ladies eu'ry one: Sweet Partner,
¶Good my Lord Cardinall: I haue halfe a dozen healths,
¶To lead 'em once againe, and then let's dreame
¶
Exeunt with Trumpets.
¶
Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.
820
Enter two Gentlemen at seuerall Doores.
¶Eu'n to the Hall, to heare what shall become
¶Of the great Duke of Buckingham.
¶That labour Sir. All's now done but the Ceremony
¶Of bringing backe the Prisoner.
¶2. Were you there?
¶1. Yes indeed was I.
¶2. Is he found guilty?
¶1. Yes truely is he,
¶And condemn'd vpon't.
¶1. So are a number more.
¶1. Ile tell you in a little. The great Duke
¶Came to the Bar; where, to his accusations
840He pleaded still not guilty, and alleadged
¶The Kings Atturney on the contrary,
845To him brought viua voce to his face;
¶At which appear'd against him, his Surueyor
¶Sir Gilbert Pecke his Chancellour, and Iohn Car,
¶Hopkins, that made this mischiefe.
8502. That was hee
¶That fed him with his Prophecies.
¶Would haue flung from him; but indeed he could not;
855And so his Peeres vpon this euidence,
¶Haue found him guilty of high Treason. Much
¶He spoke, and learnedly for life: But all
¶Was either pittied in him, or forgotten.
8601. When he was brought agen to th'Bar, to heare
¶His Knell rung out, his Iudgement, he was stir'd
¶2. I doe not thinke he feares death.
¶1. Sure he does not,
¶He may a little grieue at.
8702. Certainly,
¶The Cardinall is the end of this.
¶1. Tis likely,
¶By all coniectures: First Kildares Attendure;
¶Then Deputy of Ireland, who remou'd
¶2. That tricke of State
¶Was a deepe enuious one,
¶1. At his returne,
880No doubt he will requite it; this is noted
¶(And generally) who euer the King fauours,
¶The Cardnall instantly will finde imployment,
¶And farre enough from Court too.
¶2. All the Commons
¶Wish him ten faddom deepe: This Duke as much
¶They loue and doate on: call him bounteous Buckingham,
¶The Mirror of all courtesie.
¶
Enter Buckingham from his Arraignment, Tipstaues before
890him, the Axe with the edge towards him, Halberds on each
¶side, accompanied with Sir Thomas Louell, Sir Nicholas
¶Vaux, Sir Walter Sands, and common people, &c.
¶1. Stay there Sir,
¶Buck. All good people,
¶You that thus farre haue come to pitty me;
¶I haue this day receiu'd a Traitors iudgement,
900And by that name must dye; yet Heauen beare witnes,
¶Euen as the Axe falls, if I be not faithfull.
¶The Law I beare no mallice for my death,
¶(Be what they will) I heartily forgiue 'em;
¶Yet let 'em looke they glory not in mischiefe;
¶Nor build their euils on the graues of great men;
910For further life in this world I ne're hope,
¶Nor will I sue, although the King haue mercies
¶More then I dare make faults.
¶You few that lou'd me,
¶And dare be bold to weepe for Buckingham,
915His Noble Friends and Fellowes; whom to leaue
¶Is only bitter to him, only dying:
¶Goe with me like good Angels to my end,
¶And as the long diuorce of Steele fals on me,
¶Make of your Prayers one sweet Sacrifice,
920And lift my Soule to Heauen.
¶Lead on a Gods name.
¶If euer any malice in your heart
¶Were hid against me, now to forgiue me frankly.
925Buck. Sir Thomas Louell, I as free forgiue you
¶As I would be forgiuen: I forgiue all.
¶Gainst me, that I cannot take peace with:
¶No blacke Enuy shall make my Graue.
930Commend mee to his Grace:
¶And if he speake of Buckingham; pray tell him,
¶You met him halfe in Heauen: my vowes and prayers
¶Yet are the Kings; and till my Soule forsake,
935Longer then I haue time to tell his yeares;
¶Euer belou'd and louing, may his Rule be;
¶And when old Time shall lead him to his end,
940Then giue my Charge vp to Sir Nicholas Vaux,
¶Who vndertakes you to your end.
¶Vaux. Prepare there,
¶The Duke is comming: See the Barge be ready;
¶Buck. Nay, Sir Nicholas,
¶Let it alone; my State now will but mocke me.
¶When I came hither, I was Lord High Constable,
¶And Duke of Buckingham: now, poore Edward Bohun;
¶That neuer knew what Truth meant: I now seale it;
¶And with that bloud will make 'em one day groane for't.
¶My noble Father Henry of Buckingham,
¶And without Tryall, fell; Gods peace be with him.
¶Henry the Seauenth succeeding, truly pittying
960Restor'd me to my Honours: and out of ruines
¶Made my Name once more Noble. Now his Sonne,
¶Henry the Eight, Life, Honour, Name and all
¶That made me happy; at one stroake ha's taken
¶For euer from the World. I had my Tryall,
¶A little happier then my wretched Father:
¶Yet thus farre we are one in Fortunes; both
970Heauen ha's an end in all: yet, you that heare me,
¶This from a dying man receiue as certaine:
¶Where you are liberall of your loues and Councels,
¶And giue your hearts to; when they once perceiue
975The least rub in your fortunes, fall away
¶Like water from ye, neuer found againe
¶But where they meane to sinke ye: all good people
¶Of my long weary life is come vpon me:
¶Speake how I fell.
¶I haue done; and God forgiue me.
¶
Exeunt Duke and Traine.
¶1. O, this is full of pitty; Sir, it cals
985I feare, too many curses on their heads
¶That were the Authors.
¶'Tis full of woe: yet I can giue you inckling
¶Of an ensuing euill, if it fall,
990Greater then this.
¶1. Good Angels keepe it from vs:
¶What may it be? you doe not doubt my faith Sir?
¶A strong faith to conceale it.
9951. Let me haue it:
¶I doe not talke much.
¶2. I am confident;
¶You shall Sir: Did you not of late dayes heare
¶A buzzing of a Separation
1000Betweene the King and Katherine?
¶1. Yes, but it held not;
¶For when the King once heard it, out of anger
¶Is found a truth now: for it growes agen
¶Fresher then e're it was; and held for certaine
¶The King will venture at it. Either the Cardinall,
1010Or some about him neere, haue out of malice
¶That will vndoe her: To confirme this too,
¶Cardinall Campeius is arriu'd, and lately,
¶As all thinke for this busines.
10151. Tis the Cardinall;
¶And meerely to reuenge him on the Emperour,
¶The Archbishopricke of Toledo, this is purpos'd.
¶2. I thinke
1020You haue hit the marke; but is't not cruell,
¶1. 'Tis wofull.
¶Wee are too open heere to argue this:
1025Let's thinke in priuate more.
Exeunt.
¶
Scena Secunda.
¶
Enter Lord Chamberlaine, reading this Letter.
¶
My Lord, the Horses your Lordship sent for, with all the
¶North. When they were ready to set out for London, a man
¶fore a Subiect, if not before the King, which stop'd our mouthes1035Sir.
¶I feare he will indeede; well, let him haue them; hee
¶will haue all I thinke.
¶
Enter to the Lord Chamberlaine, the Dukes of Nor-
¶
folke and Suffolke.
1040Norf. Well met my Lord Chamberlaine.
¶Cham. Good day to both your Graces.
¶Suff. How is the King imployd?
¶Cham. I left him priuate,
¶Full of sad thoughts and troubles.
¶Ha's crept too neere his Conscience.
¶Ha's crept too neere another Ladie.
¶This is the Cardinals doing: The King-Cardinall,
¶Turnes what he list. The King will know him one day.
¶Suff. Pray God he doe,
¶And with what zeale? For now he has crackt the League
¶Between vs & the Emperor (the Queens great Nephew)
¶He diues into the Kings Soule, and there scatters
1060Dangers, doubts, wringing of the Conscience,
¶That like a Iewell, ha's hung twenty yeares
¶Of her that loues him with that excellence,
¶That Angels loue good men with: Euen of her,
¶And euery true heart weepes for't. All that dare
¶The French Kings Sister. Heauen will one day open
¶This bold bad man.
¶Norf. We had need pray,
¶And heartily, for our deliuerance;
1080Or this imperious man will worke vs all
¶From Princes into Pages: all mens honours
¶Lie like one lumpe before him, to be fashion'd
¶Into what pitch he please.
¶Suff. For me, my Lords,
1085I loue him not, nor feare him, there's my Creede:
¶Touch me alike: th'are breath I not beleeue in.
¶I knew him, and I know him: so I leaue him
1090To him that made him proud; the Pope.
¶Norf. Let's in;
¶My Lord, youle beare vs company?
¶Health to your Lordships.
¶Norfolke. Thankes my good Lord Chamberlaine.
1100
Exit Lord Chamberlaine, and the King drawes the Curtaine
¶
and sits reading pensiuely.
¶Kin. Who's there? Ha?
¶Norff. Pray God he be not angry.
¶Into my priuate Meditations?
¶Who am I? Ha?
¶Norff. A gracious King, that pardons all offences
¶Malice ne're meant: Our breach of Duty this way,
¶To know your Royall pleasure.
¶Kin. Ye are too bold:
¶Is this an howre for temporall affaires? Ha?
1115
Enter Wolsey and Campeius with a Commission.
¶Who's there? my good Lord Cardinall? O my Wolsey,
¶The quiet of my wounded Conscience;
¶Thou art a cure fit for a King; you'r welcome
¶Most learned Reuerend Sir, into our Kingdome,
1120Vse vs, and it: My good Lord, haue great care,
¶I be not found a Talker.
¶Wol. Sir, you cannot;
¶I would your Grace would giue vs but an houre
¶Of priuate conference.
¶But this cannot continue.
1130Norff. If it doe, Ile venture one; haue at him.
¶Suff. I another.
¶
Exeunt Norfolke and Suffolke.
¶Aboue all Princes, in committing freely
¶Who can be angry now? What Enuy reach you?
¶The Spaniard tide by blood and fauour to her,
¶The Tryall, iust and Noble. All the Clerkes,
1140(I meane the learned ones in Christian Kingdomes)
¶Haue their free voyces. Rome (the Nurse of Iudgement)
¶One generall Tongue vnto vs. This good man,
¶Kin. And once more in mine armes I bid him welcome,
¶And thanke the holy Conclaue for their loues,
¶The Court of Rome commanding. You my Lord
¶Cardinall of Yorke, are ioyn'd with me their Seruant,
¶Forthwith for what you come. Where's Gardiner? (ted
¶So deare in heart, not to deny her that
1160Schollers allow'd freely to argue for her.
¶To him that does best, God forbid els: Cardinall,
¶Prethee call Gardiner to me, my new Secretary.
¶I find him a fit fellow.
1165
Enter Gardiner.
¶Wol. Giue me your hand: much ioy & fauour to you;
¶You are the Kings now.
¶Gard. But to be commanded
¶For euer by your Grace, whose hand ha's rais'd me.
1170Kin. Come hither Gardiner.
¶
Walkes and whispers.
¶Camp. My Lord of Yorke, was not one Doctor Pace
¶In this mans place before him?
¶Wol. Yes, he was.
1175Camp. Was he not held a learned man?
¶Euen of your selfe Lord Cardinall.
¶Wol. How? of me?
¶That he ran mad, and dide.
¶Wol. Heau'ns peace be with him:
1185That's Christian care enough: for liuing Murmurers,
¶There's places of rebuke. He was a Foole;
¶For he would needs be vertuous. That good Fellow,
¶If I command him followes my appointment,
¶I will haue none so neere els. Learne this Brother,
1190We liue not to be grip'd by meaner persons.
¶
Exit Gardiner.
¶The most conuenient place, that I can thinke of
¶For such receipt of Learning, is Black-Fryers:
¶Would it not grieue an able man to leaue
¶O 'tis a tender place, and I must leaue her.
_
Exeunt.
1200
Scena Tertia.
¶
Enter Anne Bullen, and an old Lady.
¶An. Not for that neither; here's the pang that pinches.
¶So good a Lady, that no Tongue could euer
1205Pronounce dishonour of her; by my life,
¶She neuer knew harme-doing: Oh, now after
¶So many courses of the Sun enthroaned,
¶Still growing in a Maiesty and pompe, the which
¶To leaue, a thousand fold more bitter, then
¶To giue her the auaunt, it is a pitty
¶Would moue a Monster.
¶Melt and lament for her.
1215An. Oh Gods will, much better
¶She ne're had knowne pompe; though't be temporall,
¶Yet if that quarrell. Fortune, do diuorce
¶It from the bearer, 'tis a sufferance, panging
1220Old L. Alas poore Lady,
¶Shee's a stranger now againe.
¶An. So much the more
¶Must pitty drop vpon her; verily
¶I sweare, tis better to be lowly borne,
1225And range with humble liuers in Content,
¶Then to be perk'd vp in a glistring griefe,
¶And weare a golden sorrow.
¶Old L. Our content
¶Is our best hauing.
1230Anne. By my troth, and Maidenhead,
¶I would not be a Queene.
¶And venture Maidenhead for't, and so would you
1235You that haue so faire parts of Woman on you,
¶Haue (too) a Womans heart, which euer yet
¶Affected Eminence, Wealth, Soueraignty;
¶(Sauing your mincing) the capacity
¶Anne. Nay, good troth.
¶Old L. Yes troth, & troth; you would not be a Queen?
¶Anne. No, not for all the riches vnder Heauen.
¶Old as I am, to Queene it: but I pray you,
¶To beare that load of Title?
¶An. No in truth.
1250Old. L. Then you are weakly made; plucke off a little,
¶I would not be a young Count in your way,
¶For more then blushing comes to: If your backe
¶Cannot vouchsafe this burthen, tis too weake
¶Euer to get a Boy.
1255An. How you doe talke;
¶I sweare againe, I would not be a Queene,
¶For all the world.
¶Old. L. In faith, for little England
¶You'ld venture an emballing: I my selfe
1260Would for Carnaruanshire, although there long'd
¶No more to th'Crowne but that: Lo, who comes here?
¶
Enter Lord Chamberlaine.
¶The secret of your conference?
1265An. My good Lord,
¶Not your demand; it values not your asking:
¶Our Mistris Sorrowes we were pittying.
¶The action of good women, there is hope
1270All will be well.
¶An. Now I pray God, Amen.
¶Follow such Creatures. That you may, faire Lady
1275Tane of your many vertues; the Kings Maiesty
¶Commends his good opinion of you, to you; and
1280Out of his Grace, he addes.
¶An. I doe not know
¶What kinde of my obedience, I should tender;
¶More then my All, is Nothing: Nor my Prayers
¶Are not words duely hallowed; nor my Wishes
1285More worth, then empty vanities: yet Prayers & Wishes
¶Whose health and Royalty I pray for.
1290Cham. Lady;
¶I shall not faile t'approue the faire conceit
¶The King hath of you. I haue perus'd her well,
¶Beauty and Honour in her are so mingled,
¶That they haue caught the King: and who knowes yet
1295But from this Lady, may proceed a Iemme,
¶To lighten all this Ile. I'le to the King,
¶
Exit Lord Chamberlaine.
¶An. My honour'd Lord.
¶I haue beene begging sixteene yeares in Court
¶(Am yet a Courtier beggerly) nor could
¶Come pat betwixt too early, and too late
¶For any suit of pounds: and you, (oh fate)
¶This compel'd fortune: haue your mouth fild vp,
¶Before you open it.
1310There was a Lady once (tis an old Story)
¶That would not be a Queene, that would she not
¶For all the mud in Egypt; haue you heard it?
¶Old. L. With your Theame, I could
¶No other obligation? by my Life,
¶Is longer then his fore-skirt; by this time
¶Are you not stronger then you were?
¶An. Good Lady,
¶Make your selfe mirth with your particular fancy,
¶And leaue me out on't. Would I had no being
1325If this salute my blood a iot; it faints me
¶To thinke what followes.
¶In our long absence: pray doe not deliuer,
¶What heere y'haue heard to her.
¶
Scena Quarta.
¶
Trumpets, Sennet, and Cornets.
¶Scribes in the habite of Doctors; after them, the Bishop of
1335Canterbury alone; after him, the Bishops of Lincolne, Ely,
1340headed, accompanyed with a Sergeant at Armes, bearing a
¶Siluer Mace: Then two Gentlemen bearing two great
¶two Noblemen, with the Sword and Mace. The King takes
¶place vnder the Cloth of State. The two Cardinalls sit
¶Attendants stand in conuenient order about the Stage.
¶Let silence be commanded.
¶King. What's the need?
¶It hath already publiquely bene read,
¶And on all sides th'Authority allow'd,
1355You may then spare that time.
¶Scri. Say, Henry K. of England, come into the Court.
¶Crier. Henry King of England, &c.
¶King. Heere.
1360Scribe. Say, Katherine Queene of England,
¶Come into the Court.
¶Crier. Katherine Queene of England, &c.
¶
The Queene makes no answer, rises out of her Chaire,
¶And to bestow your pitty on me; for
¶I am a most poore Woman, and a Stranger,
¶Borne out of your Dominions: hauing heere
¶Of equall Friendship and Proceeding. Alas Sir:
¶In what haue I offended you? What cause
¶That thus you should proceede to put me off,
¶I haue bene to you, a true and humble Wife,
¶At all times to your will conformable:
¶Euer in feare to kindle your Dislike,
1380As I saw it inclin'd? When was the houre
¶I euer contradicted your Desire?
¶Or made it not mine too? Or which of your Friends
¶Haue I not stroue to loue, although I knew
¶He were mine Enemy? What Friend of mine,
1385That had to him deriu'd your Anger, did I
¶Continue in my Liking? Nay, gaue notice
¶He was from thence discharg'd? Sir, call to minde,
¶That I haue beene your Wife, in this Obedience,
¶Vpward of twenty yeares, and haue bene blest
1390With many Children by you. If in the course
¶And proue it too, against mine Honor, aught;
¶My bond to Wedlocke, or my Loue and Dutie
1395Turne me away: and let the fowl'st Contempt
¶Shut doore vpon me, and so giue me vp
¶The King your Father, was reputed for
¶A Prince most Prudent; of an excellent
1400And vnmatch'd Wit, and Iudgement. Ferdinand
¶My Father, King of Spaine, was reckon'd one
¶A yeare before. It is not to be question'd,
¶That they had gather'd a wise Councell to them
¶Who deem'd our Marriage lawful. Wherefore I humbly
¶I will implore. If not, i'th'name of God
1410Your pleasure be fulfill'd.
¶Wol. You haue heere Lady,
¶(And of your choice) these Reuerend Fathers, men
¶Of singular Integrity, and Learning;
¶That longer you desire the Court, as well
¶For your owne quiet, as to rectifie
¶What is vnsetled in the King.
¶Camp. His Grace
¶And that (without delay) their Arguments
¶Be now produc'd, and heard.
¶Qu. Sir, I am about to weepe; but thinking that
¶We are a Queene (or long haue dream'd so) certaine
¶The daughter of a King, my drops of teares,
¶Ile turne to sparkes of fire.
1430Wol. Be patient yet.
¶Qu. I will, when you are humble; Nay before,
¶Or God will punish me. I do beleeue
¶(Induc'd by potent Circumstances) that
¶You are mine Enemy, and make my Challenge,
1435You shall not be my Iudge. For it is you
¶Haue blowne this Coale, betwixt my Lord, and me;
¶(Which Gods dew quench) therefore, I say againe,
¶I vtterly abhorre; yea, from my Soule
¶Refuse you for my Iudge, whom yet once more
1440I hold my most malicious Foe, and thinke not
¶At all a Friend to truth.
¶Ore-topping womans powre. Madam, you do me wrong
¶For you, or any: how farre I haue proceeded,
¶Or how farre further (Shall) is warranted
¶That I haue blowne this Coale: I do deny it,
¶The King is present: If it be knowne to him,
¶That I gainsay my Deed, how may he wound,
1455And worthily my Falsehood, yea, as much
¶As you haue done my Truth. If he know
¶That I am free of your Report, he knowes
¶I am not of your wrong. Therefore in him
¶It lies to cure me, and the Cure is to
1460Remoue these Thoughts from you. The which before
¶You (gracious Madam) to vnthinke your speaking,
¶Queen. My Lord, My Lord,
1465I am a simple woman, much too weake
¶T' oppose your cunning. Y'are meek, & humble-mouth'd
¶Is cramm'd with Arrogancie, Spleene, and Pride.
¶Where Powres are your Retainers, and your words
1475You tender more your persons Honor, then
¶I do refuse you for my Iudge, and heere
¶Before you all, Appeale vnto the Pope,
1480And to be iudg'd by him.
¶
She Curtsies to the King, and offers to depart.
¶Disdainfull to be tride by't; tis not well.
1485Shee's going away.
¶Kin. Call her againe.
¶Crier. Katherine. Q of England, come into the Court.
¶Gent.Vsh. Madam, you are cald backe.
¶Que. What need you note it? pray you keep your way,
1490When you are cald returne. Now the Lord helpe,
¶I will not tarry: no, nor euer more
¶In any of their Courts.
1495
Exit Queene, and her Attendants.
¶Kin. Goe thy wayes Kate,
¶That man i'th'world, who shall report he ha's
¶A better Wife, let him in naught be trusted,
¶Obeying in commanding, and thy parts
¶Soueraigne and Pious els, could speake thee out)
¶The Queene of earthly Queenes: Shee's Noble borne;
1505And like her true Nobility, she ha's
¶Carried her selfe towards me.
¶In humblest manner I require your Highnes,
1510Of all these eares (for where I am rob'd and bound,
¶There must I be vnloos'd, although not there
¶Did broach this busines to your Highnes, or
¶Laid any scruple in your way, which might
1515Induce you to the question on't: or euer
¶Haue to you, but with thankes to God for such
¶Be to the preiudice of her present State,
¶Or touch of her good Person?
1520Kin. My Lord Cardinall,
¶I doe excuse you; yea, vpon mine Honour,
¶I free you from't: You are not to be taught
¶That you haue many enemies, that know not
¶Why they are so; but like to Village Curres,
¶The Queene is put in anger; y'are excus'd:
¶But will you be more iustifi'de? You euer
¶It to be stir'd; but oft haue hindred, oft
¶I speake my good Lord Cardnall, to this point;
¶And thus farre cleare him.
¶Now, what mou'd me too't,
¶I will be bold with time and your attention:
1535Then marke th'inducement. Thus it came; giue heede
(too't:
¶Scruple, and pricke, on certaine Speeches vtter'd
¶Who had beene hither sent on the debating
1540And Marriage 'twixt the Duke of Orleance, and
¶Ere a determinate resolution, hee
¶Wherein he might the King his Lord aduertise,
1545Whether our Daughter were legitimate,
¶Respecting this our Marriage with the Dowager,
¶Yea, with a spitting power, and made to tremble
¶That many maz'd considerings, did throng
¶Commanded Nature, that my Ladies wombe
1555If it conceiu'd a male-child by me, should
¶Doe no more Offices of life too't; then
¶Or di'de where they were made, or shortly after
¶This world had ayr'd them. Hence I tooke a thought,
1560This was a Iudgement on me, that my Kingdome
¶Be gladded in't by me. Then followes, that
¶I weigh'd the danger which my Realmes stood in
1565Many a groaning throw: thus hulling in
¶Toward this remedy, whereupon we are
¶I meant to rectifie my Conscience, which
1570I then did feele full sicke, and yet not well,
¶By all the Reuerend Fathers of the Land,
¶And Doctors learn'd. First I began in priuate,
¶With you my Lord of Lincolne; you remember
1575When I first mou'd you.
¶B. Lin. Very well my Liedge.
¶Bearing a State of mighty moment in't,
¶And consequence of dread, that I committed
¶And did entreate your Highnes to this course,
1585Which you are running heere.
¶Kin. I then mou'd you,
¶My Lord of Canterbury, and got your leaue
¶I left no Reuerend Person in this Court;
1590But by particular consent proceeded
¶Vnder your hands and Seales; therefore goe on,
¶Of the good Queene; but the sharpe thorny points
¶Of my alleadged reasons, driues this forward:
1595Proue but our Marriage lawfull, by my Life
¶And Kingly Dignity, we are contented
¶To weare our mortall State to come, with her,
¶(Katherine our Queene) before the primest Creature
¶That's Parragon'd o'th'World
¶That we adiourne this Court till further day;
¶Made to the Queene to call backe her Appeale
¶Kin. I may perceiue
¶These Cardinals trifle with me: I abhorre
¶This dilatory sloth, and trickes of Rome.
¶My learn'd and welbeloued Seruant Cranmer,
1610Prethee returne, with thy approch: I know,
¶My comfort comes along: breake vp the Court;
¶
Exeunt, in manner as they enter'd.
¶
Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.
1615
Enter Queene and her Women as at worke.
¶Queen. Take thy Lute wench,
¶My Soule growes sad with troubles,
¶
SONG.
1620
Orpheus with his Lute made Trees,
¶And the Mountaine tops that freeze,¶To his Musicke, Plants and Flowers¶Euer sprung; as Sunne and Showers,1625There had made a lasting Spring.¶Euery thing that heard him play,¶Euen the Billowes of the Sea,¶Hung their heads, & then lay by.1630Killing care, & griefe of heart,¶Fall asleepe, or hearing dye.
¶
Enter a Gentleman.
¶Queen. How now?
1635Wait in the presence.
¶Queen. Pray their Graces
¶To come neere: what can be their busines
1640With me, a poore weake woman, falne from fauour?
¶I doe not like their comming; now I thinke on't,
¶They should bee good men, their affaires as righteous:
¶But all Hoods, make not Monkes.
¶
Enter the two Cardinalls, Wolsey & Campian.
¶What are your pleasures with me, reuerent Lords?
1650Into your priuate Chamber; we shall giue you
¶The full cause of our comming.
¶Queen. Speake it heere.
¶There's nothing I haue done yet o' my Conscience
¶Deserues a Corner: would all other Women
1655Could speake this with as free a Soule as I doe.
¶My Lords, I care not (so much I am happy
¶Aboue a number) if my actions
¶Were tri'de by eu'ry tongue, eu'ry eye saw 'em,
¶Seeke me out, and that way I am Wife in;
¶Out with it boldly: Truth loues open dealing.
¶Queen. O good my Lord, no Latin;
¶As not to know the Language I haue liu'd in:
1670Beleeue me she ha's had much wrong. Lord Cardinall,
¶Card. Noble Lady,
¶We come not by the way of Accusation,
¶Nor to betray you any way to sorrow;
1680You haue too much good Lady: But to know
¶How you stand minded in the waighty difference
¶Betweene the King and you, and to deliuer
¶And comforts to our cause.
¶My Lord of Yorke, out of his Noble nature,
¶Zeale and obedience he still bore your Grace,
¶Forgetting (like a good man) your late Censure
¶Both of his truth and him (which was too farre)
1690Offers, as I doe, in a signe of peace,
¶His Seruice, and his Counsell.
¶Queen. To betray me.
¶My Lords, I thanke you both for your good wills,
¶(More neere my Life I feare) with my weake wit;
¶And to such men of grauity and learning;
¶In truth I know not. I was set at worke,
1700Among my Maids, full little (God knowes) looking
¶For her sake that I haue beene, for I feele
¶Let me haue time and Councell for my Cause:
¶Wol. Madam,
¶You wrong the Kings loue with these feares,
¶Your hopes and friends are infinite.
¶Queen. In England,
1710But little for my profit can you thinke Lords,
¶That any English man dare giue me Councell?
¶And liue a Subiect? Nay forsooth, my Friends,
1715They that must weigh out my afflictions,
¶They are (as all my other comforts) far hence
¶In mine owne Countrey Lords.
¶Camp. I would your Grace
1720Would leaue your greefes, and take my Counsell.
¶Queen. How Sir?
¶Hee's louing and most gracious. 'Twill be much,
¶Both for your Honour better, and your Cause:
1725For if the tryall of the Law o'retake ye,
¶You'l part away disgrac'd.
¶Wol. He tels you rightly.
¶Is this your Christian Councell? Out vpon ye.
1730Heauen is aboue all yet; there sits a Iudge,
¶That no King can corrupt.
¶Vpon my Soule two reuerend Cardinall Vertues:
1735But Cardinall Sins, and hollow hearts I feare ye:
¶Mend 'em for shame my Lords: Is this your comfort?
¶The Cordiall that ye bring a wretched Lady?
1740I haue more Charity. But say I warn'd ye;
¶The burthen of my sorrowes, fall vpon ye.
¶You turne the good we offer, into enuy.
1745Quee. Ye turne me into nothing. Woe vpon ye,
¶(If you haue any Iustice, any Pitty,
¶If ye be any thing but Churchmens habits)
1750Alas, ha's banish'd me his Bed already,
¶His Loue, too long ago. I am old my Lords,
¶And all the Fellowship I hold now with him
¶Is onely my Obedience. What can happen
1755Make me a Curse, like this.
¶Since Vertue findes no friends) a Wife, a true one?
¶A Woman (I dare say without Vainglory)
1760Neuer yet branded with Suspition?
¶Haue I, with all my full Affections
¶Still met the King? Lou'd him next Heau'n? Obey'd him?
¶Almost forgot my Prayres to content him?
1765And am I thus rewarded? 'Tis not well Lords.
¶One that ne're dream'd a Ioy, beyond his pleasure;
¶Yet will I adde an Honor; a great Patience.
1770Car. Madam, you wander from the good
¶We ayme at.
¶Qu. My Lord,
¶To giue vp willingly that Noble Title
1775Your Master wed me to: nothing but death
¶Shall e're diuorce my Dignities.
¶Car. Pray heare me.
¶Or felt the Flatteries that grow vpon it:
1780Ye haue Angels Faces; but Heauen knowes your hearts.
¶What will become of me now, wretched Lady?
¶I am the most vnhappy Woman liuing.
¶Alas (poore Wenches) where are now your Fortunes?
¶Shipwrack'd vpon a Kingdome, where no Pitty,
1785No Friends, no Hope, no Kindred weepe for me?
¶Almost no Graue allow'd me? Like the Lilly
¶Ile hang my head, and perish.
¶Car. If your Grace
1790Could but be brought to know, our Ends are honest,
¶Youl'd feele more comfort. Why shold we (good Lady)
¶Vpon what cause wrong you? Alas, our Places,
¶How you may hurt your selfe: I, vtterly
¶Grow from the Kings Acquaintance, by this Carriage.
¶So much they loue it. But to stubborne Spirits,
¶I know you haue a Gentle, Noble temper,
¶A Soule as euen as a Calme; Pray thinke vs,
1805You wrong your Vertues
¶With these weake Womens feares. A Noble Spirit
¶As yours was, put into you, euer casts
¶Such doubts as false Coine from it. The King loues you,
¶Qu. Do what ye will, my Lords:
¶And pray forgiue me;
¶If I haue vs'd my selfe vnmannerly,
1815You know I am a Woman, lacking wit
¶He ha's my heart yet, and shall haue my Prayers
¶While I shall haue my life. Come reuerend Fathers,
1820Bestow your Councels on me. She now begges
Exeunt
¶
Scena Secunda.
¶
Enter the Duke of Norfolke, Duke of Suffolke, Lord Surrey,
1825
and Lord Chamberlaine.
¶Norf. If you will now vnite in your Complaints,
¶And force them with a Constancy, the Cardinall
¶Cannot stand vnder them. If you omit
¶The offer of this time, I cannot promise,
¶With these you beare alreadie.
¶Sur. I am ioyfull
¶Remembrance of my Father-in-Law, the Duke,
1835To be reueng'd on him.
¶Suf. Which of the Peeres
¶Haue vncontemn'd gone by him, or at least
¶Strangely neglected? When did he regard
1840Out of himselfe?
¶What he deserues of you and me, I know:
¶What we can do to him (though now the time
¶Giues way to vs) I much feare. If you cannot
¶Any thing on him: for he hath a Witchcraft
¶Ouer the King in's Tongue.
¶Nor. O feare him not,
¶His spell in that is out: the King hath found
1850Matter against him, that for euer marres
¶The Hony of his Language. No, he's setled
¶Sur. Sir,
1855Once euery houre.
¶Nor. Beleeue it, this is true.
¶In the Diuorce, his contrarie proceedings
¶Are all vnfolded: wherein he appeares,
¶As I would wish mine Enemy.
1860Sur. How came
¶His practises to light?
¶Sur. O how? how?
1865And came to th'eye o'th'King, wherein was read
¶To stay the Iudgement o'th'Diuorce; for if
¶It did take place, I do (quoth he) perceiue
¶My King is tangled in affection, to
1870A Creature of the Queenes, Lady Anne Bullen.
¶Sur. Ha's the King this?
¶Suf. Beleeue it.
¶Sur. Will this worke?
1875And hedges his owne way. But in this point,
¶All his trickes founder, and he brings his Physicke
¶After his Patients death; the King already
¶Hath married the faire Lady.
¶Sur. Would he had.
¶Sur. Now all my ioy
¶Trace the Coniunction.
¶Suf. My Amen too't.
1885Nor. All mens.
¶Suf. There's order giuen for her Coronation:
¶Marry this is yet but yong, and may be left
¶To some eares vnrecounted. But my Lords
¶She is a gallant Creature, and compleate
1890In minde and feature. I perswade me, from her
¶In it be memoriz'd.
¶Sur. But will the King
¶Digest this Letter of the Cardinals?
1895The Lord forbid.
¶Nor. Marry Amen.
¶Suf. No, no:
1900Is stolne away to Rome, hath 'tane no leaue,
¶Ha's left the cause o'th'King vnhandled, and
¶Is posted as the Agent of our Cardinall,
¶The King cry'de Ha, at this.
¶And let him cry Ha, lowder.
¶Norf. But my Lord
¶When returnes Cranmer?
¶Suf. He is return'd in his Opinions, which
¶Together with all famous Colledges
¶Her Coronation. Katherine no more
¶And Widdow to Prince Arthur.
¶A worthy Fellow, and hath tane much paine
¶For it, an Arch-byshop.
¶Nor. So I heare.
¶
Enter Wolsey and Cromwell.
1925The Cardinall.
¶Car. The Packet Cromwell,
¶Gau't you the King?
¶Crom. To his owne hand, in's Bed-chamber.
¶He did it with a Serious minde: a heede
¶Was in his countenance. You he bad
1935Attend him heere this Morning.
¶Card. Is he ready to come abroad?
¶Crom. I thinke by this he is.
¶Anne Bullen? No: Ile no Anne Bullens for him,
¶There's more in't then faire Visage. Bullen?
¶No, wee'l no Bullens: Speedily I wish
¶Suf. Maybe he heares the King
¶Does whet his Anger to him.
¶Sur. Sharpe enough,
¶Lord for thy Iustice.
1950Car. The late Queenes Gentlewoman?
¶A Knights Daughter
¶Then out it goes. What though I know her vertuous
1955And well deseruing? yet I know her for
¶Our hard rul'd King. Againe, there is sprung vp
¶An Heretique, an Arch-one; Cranmer, one
1960Hath crawl'd into the fauour of the King,
¶And is his Oracle.
¶
Enter King, reading of a Scedule.
1965The Master-cord on's heart.
¶Suf. The King, the King.
¶King. What piles of wealth hath he accumulated
¶To his owne portion? And what expence by'th'houre
¶Seemes to flow from him? How, i'th'name of Thrift
1970Does he rake this together? Now my Lords,
¶Saw you the Cardinall?
¶Nor. My Lord, we haue
¶Is in his braine: He bites his lip, and starts,
1975Stops on a sodaine, lookes vpon the ground,
¶Then layes his finger on his Temple: straight
¶King. It may well be,
¶There is a mutiny in's minde. This morning,
¶As I requir'd: and wot you what I found
1985There (on my Conscience put vnwittingly)
¶Forsooth an Inuentory, thus importing
¶Rich Stuffes and Ornaments of Houshold, which
¶Nor. It's Heauens will,
¶Some Spirit put this paper in the Packet,
¶King. If we did thinke
1995His Contemplation were aboue the earth,
¶Dwell in his Musings, but I am affraid
¶His Thinkings are below the Moone, not worth
2000
King takes his Seat, whispers Louell, who goes
¶
to the Cardinall.
¶Car. Heauen forgiue me,
¶King. Good my Lord,
2005You are full of Heauenly stuffe, and beare the Inuentory
¶Of your best Graces, in your minde; the which
¶To keepe your earthly Audit, sure in that
2010I deeme you an ill Husband, and am gald
¶To haue you therein my Companion.
¶Car. Sir,
¶For Holy Offices I haue a time; a time
2015I beare i'th'State: and Nature does require
¶Her times of preseruation, which perforce
¶Must giue my tendance to.
¶(As I will lend you cause) my doing well,
¶With my well saying.
¶And 'tis a kinde of good deede to say well,
2025And yet words are no deeds. My Father lou'd you,
¶He said he did, and with his deed did Crowne
¶His word vpon you. Since I had my Office,
¶I haue kept you next my Heart, haue not alone
¶Imploy'd you where high Profits might come home,
¶My Bounties vpon you.
¶King. Haue I not made you
2035The prime man of the State? I pray you tell me,
¶If what I now pronounce, you haue found true:
¶If you are bound to vs, or no. What say you?
2040Showr'd on me daily, haue bene more then could
¶Beyond all mans endeauors. My endeauors,
¶Yet fill'd with my Abilities: Mine owne ends
2045Haue beene mine so, that euermore they pointed
¶The profit of the State. For your great Graces
¶Heap'd vpon me (poore Vndeseruer) I
¶Can nothing render but Allegiant thankes,
2050My Prayres to heauen for you; my Loyaltie
¶Which euer ha's, and euer shall be growing,
¶Till death (that Winter) kill it.
¶A Loyall, and obedient Subiect is
2055Therein illustrated, the Honor of it
¶Does pay the Act of it, as i'th'contrary
¶That as my hand ha's open'd Bounty to you,
¶My heart drop'd Loue, my powre rain'd Honor, more
2060On you, then any: So your Hand, and Heart,
¶Your Braine, and euery Function of your power,
¶Should, notwithstanding that your bond of duty,
¶As 'twer in Loues particular, be more
¶To me your Friend, then any.
¶More then mine owne: that am, haue, and will be
¶(Though all the world should cracke their duty to you,
¶And throw it from their Soule, though perils did
2070Abound, as thicke as thought could make 'em, and
¶Appeare in formes more horrid) yet my Duty,
¶As doth a Rocke against the chiding Flood,
¶Should the approach of this wilde Riuer breake,
¶Take notice Lords, he ha's a Loyall brest,
¶For you haue seene him open't. Read o're this,
¶And after this, and then to Breakfast with
¶What appetite you haue.
2080
Exit King, frowning vpon the Cardinall, the Nobles
¶
throng after him smiling, and whispering.
¶What sodaine Anger's this? How haue I reap'd it?
¶He parted Frowning from me, as if Ruine
2085Leap'd from his Eyes. So lookes the chafed Lyon
¶Vpon the daring Huntsman that has gall'd him:
¶Then makes him nothing. I must reade this paper:
¶I feare the Story of his Anger. 'Tis so:
¶This paper ha's vndone me: 'Tis th'Accompt
2090Of all that world of Wealth I haue drawne together
¶For mine owne ends, (Indeed to gaine the Popedome,
¶And fee my Friends in Rome.) O Negligence!
¶Made me put this maine Secret in the Packet
2095I sent the King? Is there no way to cure this?
¶No new deuice to beate this from his Braines?
¶A way, if it take right, in spight of Fortune
¶Will bring me off againe. What's this? To th'Pope?
¶And from that full Meridian of my Glory,
2105Like a bright exhalation in the Euening,
¶And no man see me more.
¶
Enter to Woolsey, the Dukes of Norfolke and Suffolke, the
¶
Earle of Surrey, and the Lord Chamberlaine.
2110Who commands you
¶To render vp the Great Seale presently
¶Into our hands, and to Confine your selfe
2115Car. Stay:
¶Authority so weighty.
2120Car. Till I finde more then will, or words to do it,
¶(I meane your malice) know, Officious Lords,
¶I dare, and must deny it. Now I feele
¶Of what course Mettle ye are molded, Enuy,
¶How eagerly ye follow my Disgraces
2125As if it fed ye, and how sleeke and wanton
¶Ye appeare in euery thing may bring my ruine?
¶Follow your enuious courses, men of Malice;
¶You haue Christian warrant for 'em, and no doubt
¶In time will finde their fit Rewards. That Seale
¶(Mine, and your Master) with his owne hand, gaue me:
¶Bad me enioy it, with the Place, and Honors
¶Ti'de it by Letters Patents. Now, who'll take it?
2135Sur. The King that gaue it.
¶Sur. Thy Ambition
¶(Thou Scarlet sinne) robb'd this bewailing Land
¶Of Noble Buckingham, my Father-in-Law,
¶The heads of all thy Brother-Cardinals,
2145(With thee, and all thy best parts bound together)
¶Weigh'd not a haire of his. Plague of your policie,
¶You sent me Deputie for Ireland,
¶Farre from his succour; from the King, from all
¶That might haue mercie on the fault, thou gau'st him:
¶Absolu'd him with an Axe.
¶This talking Lord can lay vpon my credit,
2155Found his deserts. How innocent I was
¶From any priuate malice in his end,
¶If I lou'd many words, Lord, I should tell you,
¶You haue as little Honestie, as Honor,
2160That in the way of Loyaltie, and Truth,
¶Toward the King, my euer Roiall Master,
¶Dare mate a sounder man then Surrie can be,
¶And all that loue his follies.
¶Sur. By my Soule,
2165Your long Coat (Priest) protects you,
¶My Sword i'th'life blood of thee else. My Lords,
¶Can ye endure to heare this Arrogance?
¶And from this Fellow? If we liue thus tamely,
2170To be thus Iaded by a peece of Scarlet,
¶Farewell Nobilitie: let his Grace go forward,
¶And dare vs with his Cap, like Larkes.
¶Is poyson to thy Stomacke.
¶Of gleaning all the Lands wealth into one,
¶Into your owne hands (Card'nall) by Extortion:
¶My Lord of Norfolke, as you are truly Noble,
¶As you respect the common good, the State
¶Collected from his life. Ile startle you
¶Worse then the Sacring Bell, when the browne Wench
2190But that I am bound in Charitie against it.
¶But thus much, they are foule ones.
¶Wol. So much fairer
2195When the King knowes my Truth.
¶I thanke my Memorie, I yet remember
¶Now, if you can blush, and crie guiltie Cardinall,
¶Wol. Speake on Sir,
¶It is to see a Nobleman want manners.
2205Haue at you.
¶You wrought to be a Legate, by which power
2210To Forraigne Princes, Ego & Rex meus
¶To be your Seruant.
¶Suf. Then, that without the knowledge
¶Either of King or Councell, when you went
¶To carry into Flanders, the Great Seale.
¶Without the Kings will, or the States allowance,
¶Suf. That out of meere Ambition, you haue caus'd
¶Your holy-Hat to be stampt on the Kings Coine.
¶(By what meanes got, I leaue to your owne conscience)
2225To furnish Rome, and to prepare the wayes
¶You haue for Dignities, to the meere vndooing
¶Of all the Kingdome. Many more there are,
¶Which since they are of you, and odious,
¶I will not taint my mouth with.
2230Cham. O my Lord,
¶His faults lye open to the Lawes, let them
¶(Not you) correct him. My heart weepes to see him
¶So little, of his great Selfe.
2235Sur. I forgiue him.
¶By your power Legatiue within this Kingdome,
¶To forfeit all your Goods, Lands, Tenements,
¶Out of the Kings protection. This is my Charge.
¶About the giuing backe the Great Seale to vs,
¶So fare you well, my little good Lord Cardinall.
¶
Exeunt all but Wolsey.
2250Wol. So farewell, to the little good you beare me.
¶This is the state of Man; to day he puts forth
¶And beares his blushing Honors thicke vpon him:
¶And then he fals as I do. I haue ventur'd
¶Like little wanton Boyes that swim on bladders:
2260This many Summers in a Sea of Glory,
¶But farre beyond my depth: my high-blowne Pride
¶At length broke vnder me, and now ha's left me
¶Weary, and old with Seruice, to the mercy
2265Vaine pompe, and glory of this World, I hate ye,
¶I feele my heart new open'd. Oh how wretched
¶Is that poore man, that hangs on Princes fauours?
2270More pangs, and feares then warres, or women haue;
¶And when he falles, he falles like Lucifer,
¶Neuer to hope againe.
¶
Enter Cromwell, standing amazed.
¶Why how now Cromwell?
¶Car. What, amaz'd
¶At my misfortunes? Can thy Spirit wonder
¶A great man should decline. Nay, and you weep
¶I am falne indeed.
2280Crom. How does your Grace.
¶Card. Why well:
¶Neuer so truly happy, my good Cromwell,
¶I know my selfe now, and I feele within me,
¶A peace aboue all earthly Dignities,
¶These ruin'd Pillers, out of pitty, taken
¶A loade, would sinke a Nauy, (too much Honor.)
¶O 'tis a burden Cromwel, 'tis a burden
2290Too heauy for a man, that hopes for Heauen.
¶Crom. I am glad your Grace,
¶Ha's made that right vse of it.
¶Card. I hope I haue:
¶I am able now (me thinkes)
2295(Out of a Fortitude of Soule, I feele)
¶To endure more Miseries, and greater farre
¶Then my Weake-hearted Enemies, dare offer.
¶What Newes abroad?
¶Lord Chancellor, in your place.
2305But he's a Learned man. May he continue
¶May haue a Tombe of Orphants teares wept on him.
2310What more?
¶Crom. That Cranmer is return'd with welcome;
¶Card. That's Newes indeed.
2315Whom the King hath in secrecie long married,
¶This day was view'd in open, as his Queene,
¶Going to Chappell: and the voyce is now
¶Onely about her Corronation.
¶Card. There was the waight that pull'd me downe.
2320O Cromwell,
¶The King ha's gone beyond me: All my Glories
¶In that one woman, I haue lost for euer.
¶Or gilde againe the Noble Troopes that waighted
2325Vpon my smiles. Go get thee from me Cromwel,
¶I am a poore falne man, vnworthy now
¶To be thy Lord, and Master. Seeke the King
¶(That Sun, I pray may neuer set) I haue told him,
¶What, and how true thou art; he will aduance thee:
2330Some little memory of me, will stirre him
¶(I know his Noble Nature) not to let
¶Neglect him not; make vse now, and prouide
¶For thine owne future safety.
2335Crom. O my Lord,
¶With what a sorrow Cromwel leaues his Lord.
¶For euer, and for euer shall be yours.
¶(Out of thy honest truth) to play the Woman.
2345Let's dry our eyes: And thus farre heare me Cromwel,
¶And when I am forgotten, as I shall be,
¶And sleepe in dull cold Marble, where no mention
¶Of me, more must be heard of: Say I taught thee;
¶Say Wolsey, that once trod the wayes of Glory,
2350And sounded all the Depths, and Shoales of Honor,
¶Found thee a way (out of his wracke) to rise in:
¶Marke but my Fall, and that that Ruin'd me:
¶Cromwel, I charge thee, fling away Ambition,
2355By that sinne fell the Angels: how can man then
¶(The Image of his Maker) hope to win by it?
¶Corruption wins not more then Honesty.
¶Still in thy right hand, carry gentle Peace
¶Let all the ends thou aym'st at, be thy Countries,
¶Thy Gods, and Truths. Then if thou fall'st (O Cromwell)
¶Serue the King: And prythee leade me in:
2365There take an Inuentory of all I haue,
¶To the last peny, 'tis the Kings. My Robe,
¶And my Integrity to Heauen, is all,
¶I dare now call mine owne. O Cromwel, Cromwel,
¶Had I but seru'd my God, with halfe the Zeale
2370I seru'd my King: he would not in mine Age
¶Haue left me naked to mine Enemies.
¶Crom. Good Sir, haue patience.
¶Card. So I haue. Farewell
¶The Hopes of Court, my Hopes in Heauen do dwell.
2375
Exeunt.
¶
Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.
¶
Enter two Gentlemen, meeting one another.
¶1 Y'are well met once againe.
¶2 So are you.
¶The Duke of Buckingham came from his Triall.
2385This generall ioy.
¶2 'Tis well: The Citizens
¶As let 'em haue their rights, they are euer forward
¶In Celebration of this day with Shewes,
2390Pageants, and Sights of Honor.
¶1 Neuer greater,
¶That Paper in your hand.
¶Of those that claime their Offices this day,
¶By custome of the Coronation.
¶The Duke of Suffolke is the first, and claimes
¶To be high Steward; Next the Duke of Norfolke,
¶I should haue beene beholding to your Paper:
¶But I beseech you, what's become of Katherine
¶Of Canterbury, accompanied with other
¶Learned, and Reuerend Fathers of his Order,
2410She was often cyted by them, but appear'd not:
¶And to be short, for not Appearance, and
¶And the late Marriage made of none effect:
2415Since which, she was remou'd to Kymmalton,
¶2 Alas good Lady.
¶The Queene is comming.
Ho-boyes.
2420
The Order of the Coronation.
¶1 A liuely Flourish of Trumpets.
¶2 Then, two Iudges.
¶3 Lord Chancellor, with Purse and Mace before him.
24255 Maior of London, bearing the Mace. Then Garter, in
¶his Coate of Armes, and on his head he wore a Gilt Copper
¶Crowne.
¶a Demy Coronall of Gold. With him, the Earle of Surrey,
2430bearing the Rod of Siluer with the Doue, Crowned with an
¶7 Duke of Suffolke, in his Robe of Estate, his Coronet on his
¶head, bearing a long white Wand, as High Steward. With
¶8 A Canopy, borne by foure of the Cinque-Ports, vnder it
¶the Queene in her Robe, in her haire, richly adorned with
¶and Winchester.
¶wrought with Flowers bearing the Queenes Traine.
¶Gold, without Flowers.
2445then, A great Flourish of Trumpets.
¶Who's that that beares the Scepter?
¶And that the Earle of Surrey, with the Rod.
¶The Duke of Suffolke.
¶2 And that my Lord of Norfolke?
¶1 Yes.
¶Sir, as I haue a Soule, she is an Angell;
¶Our King ha's all the Indies in his Armes,
¶And more, and richer, when he straines that Lady,
2460I cannot blame his Conscience.
¶1 They that beare
¶The Cloath of Honour ouer her, are foure Barons
¶Of the Cinque-Ports.
2465And so are all, are neere her.
¶I take it, she that carries vp the Traine,
2470And sometimes falling ones.
¶2 No more of that.
¶
Enter a third Gentleman.
¶3 Among the crow'd i'th'Abbey, where a finger
2475Could not be wedg'd in more: I am stifled
¶3 That I did.
¶1 How was it?
¶Of Lords, and Ladies, hauing brought the Queene
¶To a prepar'd place in the Quire, fell off
¶In a rich Chaire of State, opposing freely
¶The Beauty of her Person to the People.
2490That euer lay by man: which when the people
¶As lowd, and to as many Tunes. Hats, Cloakes,
¶(Doublets, I thinke) flew vp, and had their Faces
¶I neuer saw before. Great belly'd women,
¶That had not halfe a weeke to go, like Rammes
¶And make 'em reele before 'em. No man liuing
2500Could say this is my wife there, all were wouen
¶So strangely in one peece.
¶2 But what follow'd?
¶Came to the Altar, where she kneel'd, and Saint-like
2505Cast her faire eyes to Heauen, and pray'd deuoutly.
¶Then rose againe, and bow'd her to the people:
¶When by the Arch-byshop of Canterbury,
¶She had all the Royall makings of a Queene;
2510The Rod, and Bird of Peace, and all such Emblemes
¶Laid Nobly on her: which perform'd, the Quire
¶And with the same full State pac'd backe againe
2515To Yorke-Place, where the Feast is held.
¶1 Sir,
¶'Tis now the Kings, and call'd White-Hall.
25203 I know it:
¶But 'tis so lately alter'd, that the old name
¶Is fresh about me.
¶Newly preferr'd from the Kings Secretary:
¶The other London.
¶Is held no great good louer of the Archbishops,
2530The vertuous Cranmer.
¶3 All the Land knowes that:
¶How euer, yet there is no great breach, when it comes
¶Cranmer will finde a Friend will not shrinke from him.
¶2 Who may that be, I pray you.
25353 Thomas Cromwell,
¶A man in much esteeme with th'King, and truly
¶A worthy Friend. The King ha's made him
¶And one already of the Priuy Councell.
¶3 Yes without all doubt.
¶Come Gentlemen, ye shall go my way,
¶Something I can command. As I walke thither,
2545Ile tell ye more.
¶
Scena Secunda.
¶
Enter Katherine Dowager, sicke, lead betweene Griffith,
¶Grif. How do's your Grace?
¶My Legges like loaden Branches bow to'th'Earth,
¶Willing to leaue their burthen: Reach a Chaire,
2555So now (me thinkes) I feele a little ease.
¶That the great Childe of Honor, Cardinall Wolsey
¶Was dead?
¶Grif. Yes Madam: but I thanke your Grace
2560Out of the paine you suffer'd, gaue no eare too't.
¶Kath. Pre'thee good Griffith, tell me how he dy'de.
¶If well, he stept before me happily
¶For my example.
¶Grif. Well, the voyce goes Madam,
2565For after the stout Earle Northumberland
¶Arrested him at Yorke, and brought him forward
¶He could not sit his Mule.
2570Kath. Alas poore man.
¶Lodg'd in the Abbey; where the reuerend Abbot
¶With all his Couent, honourably receiu'd him;
¶To whom he gaue these words. O Father Abbot,
2575An old man, broken with the stormes of State,
¶Is come to lay his weary bones among ye:
¶Giue him a little earth for Charity.
2580About the houre of eight, which he himselfe
¶Continuall Meditations, Teares, and Sorrowes,
¶He gaue his Honors to the world agen,
¶His Faults lye gently on him:
¶Yet thus farre Griffith, giue me leaue to speake him,
¶And yet with Charity. He was a man
¶Of an vnbounded stomacke, euer ranking
¶Ty'de all the Kingdome. Symonie, was faire play,
¶His owne Opinion was his Law. I'th'presence
¶He would say vntruths, and be euer double
¶Both in his words, and meaning. He was neuer
2595(But where he meant to Ruine) pittifull.
¶His Promises, were as he then was, Mighty:
¶But his performance, as he is now, Nothing:
¶Of his owne body he was ill, and gaue
¶The Clergy ill example.
2600Grif. Noble Madam:
¶To heare me speake his good now?
¶Kath. Yes good Griffith,
2605I were malicious else.
¶Grif. This Cardinall,
¶Though from an humble Stocke, vndoubtedly
¶Was fashion'd to much Honor. From his Cradle
¶He was a Scholler, and a ripe, and good one:
¶Lofty, and sowre to them that lou'd him not:
¶Those twinnes of Learning, that he rais'd in you,
¶Ipswich and Oxford: one of which, fell with him,
¶Vnwilling to out-liue the good that did it.
¶For then, and not till then, he felt himselfe,
2625And to adde greater Honors to his Age
¶Then man could giue him; he dy'de, fearing God.
¶No other speaker of my liuing Actions,
¶To keepe mine Honor, from Corruption,
¶With thy Religious Truth, and Modestie,
¶(Now in his Ashes) Honor: Peace be with him.
2635I haue not long to trouble thee. Good Griffith,
¶On that Coelestiall Harmony I go too.
¶
Sad and solemne Musicke.
¶For feare we wake her. Softly, gentle Patience.
¶
The Vision.
¶clad in white Robes, wearing on their heades Garlands of
2645Bayes, and golden Vizards on their faces, Branches of Bayes
¶or Palme in their hands. They first Conge vnto her, then
¶Garland ouer her Head, at which the other foure make re-
¶derin their Changes, and holding the Garland ouer her
¶head. Which done, they deliuer the same Garland to the
2655reioycing, and holdeth vp her hands to heauen. And so, in
¶their Dancing vanish, carrying the Garland with them.
¶The Musicke continues.
¶Kath. Spirits of peace, where are ye? Are ye all gone?
2660Grif. Madam, we are heere.
¶Kath. It is not you I call for,
¶Grif. None Madam.
2665Inuite me to a Banquet, whose bright faces
¶And brought me Garlands (Griffith) which I feele
¶They are harsh and heauy to me.
Musicke ceases.
¶Pati. Do you note
2675How much her Grace is alter'd on the sodaine?
¶How long her face is drawne? How pale she lookes,
¶And of an earthy cold? Marke her eyes?
¶Grif. She is going Wench. Pray, pray.
¶Pati. Heauen comfort her.
2680
Enter a Messenger.
¶Mes. And't like your Grace ------
¶Deserue we no more Reuerence?
¶Grif. You are too blame,
2690Kath. Admit him entrance Griffith. But this Fellow
¶Let me ne're see againe.
Exit Messeng.
¶
Enter Lord Capuchius.
¶If my sight faile not,
2695My Royall Nephew, and your name Capuchius.
¶Kath. O my Lord,
¶The Times and Titles now are alter'd strangely
2700But I pray you,
¶What is your pleasure with me?
¶Cap. Noble Lady,
¶Sends you his Princely Commendations,
¶And heartily entreats you take good comfort.
¶Kath. O my good Lord, that comfort comes too late,
¶'Tis like a Pardon after Execution;
2710That gentle Physicke giuen in time, had cur'd me:
¶But now I am past all Comforts heere, but Prayers.
¶Cap. Madam, in good health.
2715When I shall dwell with Wormes, and my poore name
¶Banish'd the Kingdome. Patience, is that Letter
¶I caus'd you write, yet sent away?
¶Pat. No Madam.
2720This to my Lord the King.
¶The Modell of our chaste loues: his yong daughter,
2725Beseeching him to giue her vertuous breeding.
¶She is yong, and of a Noble modest Nature,
¶To loue her for her Mothers sake, that lou'd him,
¶Heauen knowes how deerely.
2730My next poore Petition,
¶Is, that his Noble Grace would haue some pittie
¶Vpon my wretched women, that so long
¶Haue follow'd both my Fortunes, faithfully,
¶Of which there is not one, I dare auow
¶For Vertue, and true Beautie of the Soule,
¶For honestie, and decent Carriage
¶A right good Husband (let him be a Noble)
¶(But pouerty could neuer draw 'em from me)
¶That they may haue their wages, duly paid 'em,
¶And something ouer to remember me by.
¶If Heauen had pleas'd to haue giuen me longer life
2745And able meanes, we had not parted thus.
¶These are the whole Contents, and good my Lord,
¶By that you loue the deerest in this world,
¶Stand these poore peoples Friend, and vrge the King
2750To do me this last right.
¶Cap. By Heauen I will,
¶Out of this world. Tell him in death I blest him
¶(For so I will) mine eyes grow dimme. Farewell
¶My Lord. Griffith farewell. Nay Patience,
2760Call in more women. When I am dead, good Wench,
¶Let me be vs'd with Honor; strew me ouer
¶With Maiden Flowers, that all the world may know
¶I was a chaste Wife, to my Graue: Embalme me,
¶Then lay me forth (although vnqueen'd) yet like
2765A Queene, and Daughter to a King enterre me.
¶I can no more.
¶
Exeunt leading Katherine.
¶
Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.
¶
Enter Gardiner Bishop of Winchester, a Page with a Torch
2770
before him, met by Sir Thomas Louell.
¶Gard. It's one a clocke Boy, is't not.
¶Not for delights: Times to repayre our Nature
2775With comforting repose, and not for vs
¶Whether so late?
¶Lou. Came you from the King, my Lord?
¶Gar. I did Sir Thomas, and left him at Primero
2780With the Duke of Suffolke.
¶Before he go to bed. Ile take my leaue.
¶Gard. Not yet Sir Thomas Louell: what's the matter?
2785No great offence belongs too't, giue your Friend
¶(As they say Spirits do) at midnight, haue
2790Lou. My Lord, I loue you;
¶Much waightier then this worke. The Queens in Labor
¶They say in great Extremity, and fear'd
¶Shee'l with the Labour, end.
¶I pray for heartily, that it may finde
¶Good time, and liue: but for the Stocke Sir Thomas,
¶I wish it grubb'd vp now.
¶Lou. Me thinkes I could
¶Shee's a good Creature, and sweet-Ladie do's
¶Gard. But Sir, Sir,
¶Heare me Sir Thomas, y'are a Gentleman
2805Of mine owne way. I know you Wise, Religious,
¶And let me tell you, it will ne're be well,
¶'Twill not Sir Thomas Louell, tak't of me,
¶Till Cranmer, Cromwel, her two hands, and shee
¶Sleepe in their Graues.
¶The most remark'd i'th'Kingdome: as for Cromwell,
¶O'th'Rolles, and the Kings Secretary. Further Sir,
¶Stands in the gap and Trade of moe Preferments,
2815With which the Lime will loade him. Th'Archbyshop
¶Is the Kings hand, and tongue, and who dare speak
¶Gard. Yes, yes, Sir Thomas,
¶There are that Dare, and I my selfe haue ventur'd
2820To speake my minde of him: and indeed this day,
¶Sir (I may tell it you) I thinke I haue
¶Incenst the Lords o'th'Councell, that he is
¶(For so I know he is, they know he is)
2825That does infect the Land: with which, they moued
¶Haue broken with the King, who hath so farre
¶Giuen eare to our Complaint, of his great Grace,
¶Our Reasons layd before him, hath commanded
2830To morrow Morning to the Councell Boord
¶He be conuented. He's a ranke weed Sir Thomas,
¶And we must root him out. From your Affaires
¶I hinder you too long: Good night, Sir Thomas.
¶
Exit Gardiner and Page.
¶
Enter King and Suffolke.
¶King. Charles, I will play no more to night,
¶My mindes not on't, you are too hard for me.
¶Suff. Sir, I did neuer win of you before.
2840King. But little Charles,
¶Nor shall not when my Fancies on my play.
¶Now Louel, from the Queene what is the Newes.
¶What you commanded me, but by her woman,
¶Most heartily to pray for her.
¶To pray for her? What, is she crying out?
¶Almost each pang, a death.
¶King. Alas good Lady.
¶With gentle Trauaile, to the gladding of
¶King. 'Tis midnight Charles,
¶Prythee to bed, and in thy Prayres remember
¶Th'estate of my poore Queene. Leaue me alone,
¶For I must thinke of that, which company
2860Would not be friendly too.
¶A quiet night, and my good Mistris will
¶Remember in my Prayers.
2865Well Sir, what followes?
¶
Enter Sir Anthony Denny.
¶As you commanded me.
¶King. Ha? Canterbury?
2870Den. I my good Lord.
¶King. 'Tis true: where is he Denny?
¶King. Bring him to Vs.
2875I am happily come hither.
¶
Enter Cranmer and Denny.
¶Ha? I haue said. Be gone.
¶What?
Exeunt Louell and Denny.
2880Cran. I am fearefull: Wherefore frownes he thus?
¶'Tis his Aspect of Terror. All's not well.
¶King. How now my Lord?
¶You do desire to know wherefore
¶I sent for you.
2885Cran. It is my dutie
¶My good and gracious Lord of Canterburie:
¶Come, you and I must walke a turne together:
2890I haue Newes to tell you.
¶Come, come, giue me your hand.
¶Ah my good Lord, I greeue at what I speake,
¶And am right sorrie to repeat what followes.
¶I haue, and most vnwillingly of late
2895Heard many greeuous. I do say my Lord
¶Greeuous complaints of you; which being consider'd,
¶Haue mou'd Vs, and our Councell, that you shall
¶This Morning come before vs, where I know
2900But that till further Triall, in those Charges
¶Your patience to you, and be well contented
¶To make your house our Towre: you, a Brother of vs
2905Would come against you.
¶And am right glad to catch this good occasion
¶Most throughly to be winnowed, where my Chaffe
2910There's none stands vnder more calumnious tongues,
¶Then I my selfe, poore man.
¶King. Stand vp, good Canterbury,
¶Thy Truth, and thy Integrity is rooted
¶In vs thy Friend. Giue me thy hand, stand vp,
2915Prythee let's walke. Now by my Holydame,
¶What manner of man are you? My Lord, I look'd
¶You would haue giuen me your Petition, that
2920Without indurance further.
¶If they shall faile, I with mine Enemies
¶Will triumph o're my person, which I waigh not,
2925Being of those Vertues vacant. I feare nothing
¶King. Know you not
¶The dew o'th'Verdict with it; at what ease
¶Might corrupt mindes procure, Knaues as corrupt
2935You are Potently oppos'd, and with a Malice
¶Of as great Size. Weene you of better lucke,
¶Vpon this naughty Earth? Go too, go too,
2940You take a Precepit for no leape of danger,
¶And woe your owne destruction.
¶Protect mine innocence, or I fall into
¶The trap is laid for me.
2945King. Be of good cheere,
¶They shall no more preuaile, then we giue way too:
¶Keepe comfort to you, and this Morning see
¶You do appeare before them. If they shall chance
¶In charging you with matters, to commit you:
¶Faile not to vse, and with what vehemencie
¶Will render you no remedy, this Ring
¶Deliuer them, and your Appeale to vs
2955There make before them. Looke, the goodman weeps:
¶None better in my Kingdome. Get you gone,
¶And do as I haue bid you.
Exit Cranmer.
2960He ha's strangled his Language in his teares.
¶
Enter Olde Lady.
¶Gent. within. Come backe: what meane you?
¶Lady. Ile not come backe, the tydings that I bring
¶King. Now by thy lookes
¶Say I, and of a boy.
2970Lady. I, I my Liege,
¶And of a louely Boy: the God of heauen
¶Promises Boyes heereafter. Sir, your Queen
2975Acquainted with this stranger; 'tis as like you,
¶As Cherry, is to Cherry.
¶King. Louell.
¶Lou. Sir.
¶King. Giue her an hundred Markes.
2980Ile to the Queene.
Exit King.
¶Lady, An hundred Markes? By this light, Ile ha more.
¶An ordinary Groome is for such payment.
¶I will haue more, or scold it out of him.
¶Said I for this, the Gyrle was like to him? Ile
Exit Ladie.
¶
Scena Secunda.
¶
Enter Cranmer, Archbyshop of Canterbury.
¶Cran. I hope I am not too late, and yet the Gentleman
2990That was sent to me from the Councell, pray'd me
¶Who waites there? Sure you know me?
¶
Enter Keeper.
¶Keep. Yes, my Lord:
2995But yet I cannot helpe you.
¶Cran. Why?
¶
Enter Doctor Buts.
¶Cran. So.
3000Buts. This is a Peere of Malice: I am glad
¶I came this way so happily. The King
Exit Buts
¶Cran. 'Tis Buts.
¶(God turne their hearts, I neuer sought their malice)
¶To quench mine Honor; they would shame to make me
3010Wait else at doore: a fellow Councellor
¶'Mong Boyes, Groomes, and Lackeyes.
¶But their pleasures
¶Must be fulfill'd, and I attend with patience.
¶
Enter the King, and Buts, at a Windowe
3015
aboue.
¶King. What's that Buts?
¶Kin. Body a me: where is it?
3020Butts. There my Lord:
¶The high promotion of his Grace of Canterbury,
¶Pages, and Foot-boyes.
¶Kin. Ha? 'Tis he indeed.
3025Is this the Honour they doe one another?
¶'Tis well there's one aboue 'em yet; I had thought
¶A man of his Place, and so neere our fauour
¶And at the dore too, like a Post with Packets:
¶By holy Mary (Butts) there's knauery;
¶Let 'em alone, and draw the Curtaine close:
¶We shall heare more anon.
3035
A Councell Table brought in with Chayres and Stooles, and
¶placed vnder the State. Enter Lord Chancellour, places
¶himselfe at the vpper end of the Table, on the left hand: A
¶Seate being left void aboue him, as for Canterburies Seate.
¶Duke of Suffolke, Duke of Norfolke, Surrey, Lord Cham-
¶Cromwell at lower end, as Secretary.
¶Why are we met in Councell?
3045The chiefe cause concernes his Grace of Canterbury.
¶Gard. Ha's he had knowledge of it?
¶Crom. Yes.
¶Norf. Who waits there?
¶Keep. Without my Noble Lords?
3050Gard. Yes.
¶And ha's done halfe an houre to know your pleasures.
¶Chan. Let him come in.
¶Keep. Your Grace may enter now.
3055
Cranmer approches the Councell Table.
¶That Chayre stand empty: But we all are men
¶In our owne natures fraile, and capable
3060Of our flesh, few are Angels; out of which frailty
¶Toward the King first, then his Lawes, in filling
¶The whole Realme, by your teaching & your Chaplaines
3065(For so we are inform'd) with new opinions,
¶Diuers and dangerous; which are Heresies;
¶And not reform'd, may proue pernicious.
3070Pace 'em not in their hands to make 'em gentle;
¶Till they obey the mannage. If we suffer
3075Farewell all Physicke: and what followes then?
¶Commotions, vprores, with a generall Taint
¶Of the whole State; as of late dayes our neighbours,
¶Yet freshly pittied in our memories.
¶Both of my Life and Office, I haue labour'd,
¶And with no little study, that my teaching
¶Might goe one way, and safely; and the end
3085Was euer to doe well: nor is there liuing,
¶Both in his priuate Conscience, and his place,
¶Defacers of a publique peace then I doe:
3090Pray Heauen the King may neuer find a heart
¶Enuy, and crooked malice, nourishment;
3095Be what they will, may stand forth face to face,
¶And freely vrge against me.
¶Suff. Nay, my Lord,
¶That cannot be; you are a Counsellor,
¶And by that vertue no man dare accuse you.
¶And our consent, for better tryall of you,
¶From hence you be committed to the Tower,
¶Where being but a priuate man againe,
¶More then (I feare) you are prouided for.
¶Become a Churchman, better then Ambition:
3115Lay all the weight ye can vpon my patience,
¶I make as little doubt as you doe conscience,
¶In doing dayly wrongs. I could say more,
¶But reuerence to your calling, makes me modest.
¶Gard. My Lord, my Lord, you are a Sectary,
3125For what they haue beene: 'tis a cruelty,
¶To load a falling man.
¶Gard. Good M. Secretary,
¶I cry your Honour mercie; you may worst
3130Crom. Why my Lord?
¶Gard. Doe not I know you for a Fauourer
¶Of this new Sect? ye are not sound.
¶Mens prayers then would seeke you, not their feares.
¶Crom. Doe.
¶Remember your bold life too.
3140Cham. This is too much;
¶Forbeare for shame my Lords.
¶Gard. I haue done.
¶Crom. And I.
3145I take it, by all voyces: That forthwith,
¶You be conuaid to th'Tower a Prisoner;
¶There to remaine till the Kings further pleasure
¶Be knowne vnto vs: are you all agreed Lords.
¶All. We are.
3150Cran. Is there no other way of mercy,
¶But I must needs to th'Tower my Lords?
¶Gard. What other,
¶Let some o'th'Guard be ready there.
¶Cran. For me?
¶Must I goe like a Traytor thither?
¶Gard. Receiue him,
3160Cran. Stay good my Lords,
¶I haue a little yet to say. Looke there my Lords,
¶By vertue of that Ring, I take my cause
¶Out of the gripes of cruell men, and giue it
3165Cham. This is the Kings Ring.
¶Sur. 'Tis no counterfeit.
¶Suff. 'Ts the right Ring, by Heau'n: I told ye all,
¶'Twold fall vpon our selues.
3170Norf. Doe you thinke my Lords
¶The King will suffer but the little finger
¶Of this man to be vex'd?
¶Cham. Tis now too certaine;
¶How much more is his Life in value with him?
3175Would I were fairely out on't.
¶Crom. My mind gaue me,
¶In seeking tales and Informations
¶And his Disciples onely enuy at,
3180Ye blew the fire that burnes ye: now haue at ye.
¶
Enter King frowning on them, takes his Seate.
¶Gard. Dread Soueraigne,
¶How much are we bound to Heauen,
¶In dayly thankes; that gaue vs such a Prince;
¶One that in all obedience, makes the Church
¶The cheefe ayme of his Honour, and to strengthen
¶That holy duty out of deare respect,
¶His Royall selfe in Iudgement comes to heare
3190The cause betwixt her, and this great offender.
¶They are too thin, and base to hide offences,
3195To me you cannot reach. You play the Spaniell,
¶And thinke with wagging of your tongue to win me:
¶Thou hast a cruell Nature and a bloody.
3200Hee, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee.
¶By all that's holy, he had better starue,
¶Then but once thinke his place becomes thee not.
¶And wisedome of my Councell; but I finde none:
¶Was it discretion Lords, to let this man,
¶This good man (few of you deserue that Title)
3210At Chamber dore? and one, as great as you are?
¶Power, as he was a Counsellour to try him,
3215More out of Malice then Integrity,
¶Would trye him to the vtmost, had ye meane,
¶Which ye shall neuer haue while I liue.
¶Chan. Thus farre
¶My most dread Soueraigne, may it like your Grace,
3220To let my tongue excuse all. What was purpos'd
¶Concerning his Imprisonment, was rather
¶(If there be faith in men) meant for his Tryall,
¶And faire purgation to the world then malice,
¶I'm sure in me.
¶Take him, and vse him well; hee's worthy of it.
¶I will say thus much for him, if a Prince
¶May be beholding to a Subiect; I
3230Make me no more adoe, but all embrace him;
¶Be friends for shame my Lords: My Lord of Canterbury
¶I haue a Suite which you must not deny mee.
¶That is, a faire young Maid that yet wants Baptisme,
¶That am a poore and humble Subiect to you?
¶You shall haue two noble Partners with you: the old
¶Once more my Lord of Winchester, I charge you
¶Embrace, and loue this man.
¶Gard. With a true heart,
3245And Brother; loue I doe it.
¶Cran. And let Heauen
¶The common voyce I see is verified
3250Of thee, which sayes thus: Doe my Lord of Canterbury
¶A shrewd turne, and hee's your friend for euer:
¶Come Lords, we trifle time away: I long
¶To haue this young one made a Christian.
¶As I haue made ye one Lords, one remaine:
3255So I grow stronger, you more Honour gaine.
Exeunt.
¶
Scena Tertia.
¶
Noyse and Tumult within: Enter Porter and
¶
his man.
3260you take the Court for Parish Garden: ye rude Slaues,
¶leaue your gaping.
¶Within. Good M. Porter I belong to th'Larder.
¶Port. Belong to th'Gallowes, and be hang'd ye Rogue:
¶Is this a place to roare in? Fetch me a dozen Crab-tree
¶Do you looke for Ale, and Cakes heere, you rude
¶Raskalls?
¶On May-day Morning, which will neuer be:
¶Por. How got they in, and be hang'd?
3275Man. Alas I know not, how gets the Tide in?
¶As much as one sound Cudgell of foure foote,
¶I made no spare Sir.
¶Port. You did nothing Sir.
¶To mow 'em downe before me: but if I spar'd any
¶That had a head to hit, either young or old,
¶He or shee, Cuckold or Cuckold-maker:
¶Let me ne're hope to see a Chine againe,
3285And that I would not for a Cow, God saue her.
¶Within. Do you heare M. Porter?
¶Keepe the dore close Sirha.
¶Man. What would you haue me doe?
¶But knock 'em downe by th'dozens? Is this More fields
¶Blesse me, what a fry of Fornication is at dore? On my
¶gether.
¶Man. The Spoones will be the bigger Sir: There is
¶vnder the Line, they need no other pennance: that Fire-
¶Drake did I hit three times on the head, and three times
3305like a Morter-piece to blow vs. There was a Habberda-
¶till her pinck'd porrenger fell off her head, for kindling
¶and hit that Woman, who cryed out Clubbes, when I
¶was quartered; they fell on, I made good my place; at
¶length they came to th'broome staffe to me, I defide 'em
¶draw mine Honour in, and let 'em win the Worke, the
¶and fight for bitten Apples, that no Audience but the
3320tribulation of Tower Hill, or the Limbes of Limehouse,
¶their deare Brothers are able to endure. I haue some of
¶'em in Limbo Patrum, and there they are like to dance
¶Beadles, that is to come.
3325
Enter Lord Chamberlaine.
¶Cham. Mercy o' me: what a Multitude are heere?
¶They grow still too; from all Parts they are comming,
¶As if we kept a Faire heere? Where are these Porters?
¶These lazy knaues? Y'haue made a fine hand fellowes?
3330Theres a trim rabble let in: are all these
¶Your faithfull friends o'th'Suburbs? We shall haue
¶Great store of roome no doubt, left for the Ladies,
3335We are but men; and what so many may doe,
¶Not being torne a pieces, we haue done:
¶An Army cannot rule 'em.
¶Cham. As I liue,
¶If the King blame me for't; Ile lay ye all
3340By th'heeles, and sodainly: and on your heads
¶Clap round Fines for neglect: y'are lazy knaues,
¶And heere ye lye baiting of Bombards, when
¶Th'are come already from the Christening,
¶Man. You great fellow,
3350Stand close vp, or Ile make your head ake.
¶Por. You i'th'Chamblet, get vp o'th'raile,
¶Ile pecke you o're the pales else.
Exeunt.
¶
Scena Quarta.
¶
Enter Trumpets sounding: Then two Aldermen, L. Maior,
3355Garter, Cranmer, Duke of Norfolke with his Marshals
¶Staffe, Duke of Suffolke, two Noblemen, bearing great
¶Norfolke, Godmother, bearing the Childe richly habited in
3360a Mantle, &c. Traine borne by a Lady: Then followes
¶ter speakes.
¶Gart. Heauen
¶Long, and euer happie, to the high and Mighty
¶
Flourish. Enter King and Guard.
¶Cran. And to your Royall Grace, & the good Queen,
3370My Noble Partners, and my selfe thus pray
¶All comfort, ioy in this most gracious Lady,
¶Heauen euer laid vp to make Parents happy,
¶May hourely fall vpon ye.
3375What is her Name?
¶Cran. Elizabeth.
¶Kin. Stand vp Lord,
¶Into whose hand, I giue thy Life.
3380Cran. Amen.
¶I thanke ye heartily: So shall this Lady,
3385For Heauen now bids me; and the words I vtter,
¶Let none thinke Flattery; for they'l finde 'em Truth.
¶This Royall Infant, Heauen still moue about her;
¶Though in her Cradle; yet now promises
¶A Patterne to all Princes liuing with her,
¶More couetous of Wisedome, and faire Vertue
3395Then this pure Soule shall be. All Princely Graces
¶That mould vp such a mighty Piece as this is,
¶With all the Vertues that attend the good,
¶Her Foes shake like a Field of beaten Corne,
¶And hang their heads with sorrow:
¶Good growes with her.
3405Vnder his owne Vine what he plants; and sing
¶The merry Songs of Peace to all his Neighbours.
¶From her shall read the perfect way of Honour,
¶The Bird of Wonder dyes, the Mayden Phoenix,
¶Her Ashes new create another Heyre,
¶As great in admiration as her selfe.
3415(When Heauen shal call her from this clowd of darknes)
¶That were the Seruants to this chosen Infant,
3420Shall then be his, and like a Vine grow to him;
¶And like a Mountaine Cedar, reach his branches,
3425To all the Plaines about him: Our Childrens Children
3430And yet no day without a deed to Crowne it.
¶To th'ground, and all the World shall mourne her.
¶Thou hast made me now a man, neuer before
¶This happy Child, did I get any thing.
¶This Oracle of comfort, ha's so pleas'd me,
¶I thanke ye all. To you my good Lord Maior,
¶And you good Brethren, I am much beholding:
¶I haue receiu'd much Honour by your presence,
¶And ye shall find me thankfull. Lead the way Lords,
¶She will be sicke els. This day, no man thinke
¶This Little-One shall make it Holy-day.
Exeunt.
¶
THE EPILOGVE.
3450Tis ten to one, this Play can neuer please
¶All that are heere: Some come to take their ease,
¶W'haue frighted with our Trumpets: so 'tis cleare,
¶They'l say tis naught. Others to heare the City
3455Abus'd extreamly, and to cry that's witty,
¶Which wee haue not done neither; that I feare
¶All the expected good w'are like to heare.
¶For this Play at this time, is onely in
¶The mercifull construction of good women,
¶And say twill doe; I know within a while,
¶_If they hold, when their Ladies bid 'em clap.
¶
FINIS.
