Complete Plays, The (286 page)

Lovell

I do beseech your grace, for charity,
If ever any malice in your heart
Were hid against me, now to forgive me frankly.

Buckingham

Sir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive you
As I would be forgiven: I forgive all;
There cannot be those numberless offences
’Gainst me, that I cannot take peace with: no black envy
Shall mark my grave. Commend me to his grace;
And if he speak of Buckingham, pray, tell him
You met him half in heaven: my vows and prayers
Yet are the king’s; and, till my soul forsake,
Shall cry for blessings on him: may he live
Longer than I have time to tell his years!
Ever beloved and loving may his rule be!
And when old time shall lead him to his end,
Goodness and he fill up one monument!

Lovell

To the water side I must conduct your grace;
Then give my charge up to Sir Nicholas Vaux,
Who undertakes you to your end.

Vaux

Prepare there,
The duke is coming: see the barge be ready;
And fit it with such furniture as suits
The greatness of his person.

Buckingham

Nay, Sir Nicholas,
Let it alone; my state now will but mock me.
When I came hither, I was lord high constable
And Duke of Buckingham; now, poor Edward Bohun:
Yet I am richer than my base accusers,
That never knew what truth meant: I now seal it;
And with that blood will make ’em one day groan for’t.
My noble father, Henry of Buckingham,
Who first raised head against usurping Richard,
Flying for succor to his servant Banister,
Being distress’d, was by that wretch betray’d,
And without trial fell; God’s peace be with him!
Henry the Seventh succeeding, truly pitying
My father’s loss, like a most royal prince,
Restored me to my honours, and, out of ruins,
Made my name once more noble. Now his son,
Henry the Eighth, life, honour, name and all
That made me happy at one stroke has taken
For ever from the world. I had my trial,
And, must needs say, a noble one; which makes me,
A little happier than my wretched father:
Yet thus far we are one in fortunes: both
Fell by our servants, by those men we loved most;
A most unnatural and faithless service!
Heaven has an end in all: yet, you that hear me,
This from a dying man receive as certain:
Where you are liberal of your loves and counsels
Be sure you be not loose; for those you make friends
And give your hearts to, when they once perceive
The least rub in your fortunes, fall away
Like water from ye, never found again
But where they mean to sink ye. All good people,
Pray for me! I must now forsake ye: the last hour
Of my long weary life is come upon me. Farewell:
And when you would say something that is sad,
Speak how I fell. I have done; and God forgive me!

Exeunt Buckingham and Train

First Gentleman

O, this is full of pity! Sir, it calls,
I fear, too many curses on their beads
That were the authors.

Second Gentleman

If the duke be guiltless,
’Tis full of woe: yet I can give you inkling
Of an ensuing evil, if it fall,
Greater than this.

First Gentleman

 
Good angels keep it from us!
What may it be? You do not doubt my faith, sir?

Second Gentleman

This secret is so weighty, ’twill require
A strong faith to conceal it.

First Gentleman

Let me have it;
I do not talk much.

Second Gentleman

I am confident,
You shall, sir: did you not of late days hear
A buzzing of a separation
Between the king and Katharine?

First Gentleman

Yes, but it held not:
For when the king once heard it, out of anger
He sent command to the lord mayor straight
To stop the rumor, and allay those tongues
That durst disperse it.

Second Gentleman

But that slander, sir,
Is found a truth now: for it grows again
Fresher than e’er it was; and held for certain
The king will venture at it. Either the cardinal,
Or some about him near, have, out of malice
To the good queen, possess’d him with a scruple
That will undo her: to confirm this too,
Cardinal Campeius is arrived, and lately;
As all think, for this business.

First Gentleman

’Tis the cardinal;
And merely to revenge him on the emperor
For not bestowing on him, at his asking,
The archbishopric of Toledo, this is purposed.

Second Gentleman

I think you have hit the mark: but is’t not cruel
That she should feel the smart of this? The cardinal
Will have his will, and she must fall.

First Gentleman

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

Exeunt

S
CENE
II. A
N
ANTE
-
CHAMBER
IN
THE
PALACE
.

Enter Chamberlain, reading a letter

Chamberlain

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

Enter, to Chamberlain, Norfolk and Suffolk

Norfolk

Well met, my lord chamberlain.

Chamberlain

Good day to both your graces.

Suffolk

How is the king employ’d?

Chamberlain

I left him private,
Full of sad thoughts and troubles.

Norfolk

What’s the cause?

Chamberlain

It seems the marriage with his brother’s wife
Has crept too near his conscience.

Suffolk

No, his conscience
Has crept too near another lady.

Norfolk

’Tis so:
This is the cardinal’s doing, the king-cardinal:
That blind priest, like the eldest son of fortune,
Turns what he list. The king will know him one day.

Suffolk

Pray God he do! he’ll never know himself else.

Norfolk

How holily he works in all his business!
And with what zeal! for, now he has crack’d the league
Between us and the emperor, the queen’s great nephew,
He dives into the king’s soul, and there scatters
Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience,
Fears, and despairs; and all these for his marriage:
And out of all these to restore the king,
He counsels a divorce; a loss of her
That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years
About his neck, yet never lost her lustre;
Of her that loves him with that excellence
That angels love good men with; even of her
That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls,
Will bless the king: and is not this course pious?

Chamberlain

Heaven keep me from such counsel! ’Tis most true
These news are every where; every tongue speaks ’em,
And every true heart weeps for’t: all that dare
Look into these affairs see this main end,
The French king’s sister. Heaven will one day open
The king’s eyes, that so long have slept upon
This bold bad man.

Suffolk

 
And free us from his slavery.

Norfolk

We had need pray,
And heartily, for our deliverance;
Or this imperious man will work us all
From princes into pages: all men’s honours
Lie like one lump before him, to be fashion’d
Into what pitch he please.

Suffolk

For me, my lords,
I love him not, nor fear him; there’s my creed:
As I am made without him, so I’ll stand,
If the king please; his curses and his blessings
Touch me alike, they’re breath I not believe in.
I knew him, and I know him; so I leave him
To him that made him proud, the pope.

Norfolk

Let’s in;
And with some other business put the king
From these sad thoughts, that work too much upon him:
My lord, you’ll bear us company?

Chamberlain

Excuse me;
The king has sent me otherwhere: besides,
You’ll find a most unfit time to disturb him:
Health to your lordships.

Norfolk

Thanks, my good lord chamberlain.

Exit Chamberlain; and King Henry VIII draws the curtain, and sits reading pensively

Suffolk

How sad he looks! sure, he is much afflicted.

King Henry VIII

Who’s there, ha?

Norfolk

 
Pray God he be not angry.

King Henry VIII

Who’s there, I say? How dare you thrust yourselves
Into my private meditations?
Who am I? ha?

Norfolk

A gracious king that pardons all offences
Malice ne’er meant: our breach of duty this way
Is business of estate; in which we come
To know your royal pleasure.

King Henry VIII

Ye are too bold:
Go to; I’ll make ye know your times of business:
Is this an hour for temporal affairs, ha?

Enter Cardinal Wolsey and Cardinal Campeius, with a commission

Who’s there? my good lord cardinal? O my Wolsey,
The quiet of my wounded conscience;
Thou art a cure fit for a king.

To Cardinal Campeius

You’re welcome,
Most learned reverend sir, into our kingdom:
Use us and it.

To Cardinal Wolsey

My good lord, have great care
I be not found a talker.

Cardinal Wolsey

Sir, you cannot.
I would your grace would give us but an hour
Of private conference.

King Henry VIII

[To Norfolk and Suffolk]
We are busy; go.

Norfolk

[Aside to Suffolk]
This priest has no pride in him?

Suffolk

[Aside to Norfolk]
 
Not to speak of:
I would not be so sick though for his place:
But this cannot continue.

Norfolk

[Aside to Suffolk]
 
If it do,
I’ll venture one have-at-him.

Suffolk

[Aside to Norfolk]
 
I another.

Exeunt Norfolk and Suffolk

Cardinal Wolsey

Your grace has given a precedent of wisdom
Above all princes, in committing freely
Your scruple to the voice of Christendom:
Who can be angry now? what envy reach you?
The Spaniard, tied blood and favour to her,
Must now confess, if they have any goodness,
The trial just and noble. All the clerks,
I mean the learned ones, in Christian kingdoms
Have their free voices: Rome, the nurse of judgment,
Invited by your noble self, hath sent
One general tongue unto us, this good man,
This just and learned priest, Cardinal Campeius;
Whom once more I present unto your highness.

King Henry VIII

And once more in mine arms I bid him welcome,
And thank the holy conclave for their loves:
They have sent me such a man I would have wish’d for.

Cardinal Campeius

Your grace must needs deserve all strangers’ loves,
You are so noble. To your highness’ hand
I tender my commission; by whose virtue,
The court of Rome commanding, you, my lord
Cardinal of York, are join’d with me their servant
In the unpartial judging of this business.

King Henry VIII

Two equal men. The queen shall be acquainted
Forthwith for what you come. Where’s Gardiner?

Cardinal Wolsey

I know your majesty has always loved her
So dear in heart, not to deny her that
A woman of less place might ask by law:
Scholars allow’d freely to argue for her.

King Henry VIII

Ay, and the best she shall have; and my favour
To him that does best: God forbid else. Cardinal,
Prithee, call Gardiner to me, my new secretary:
I find him a fit fellow.

Exit Cardinal Wolsey

Re-enter Cardinal Wolsey, with Gardiner

Cardinal Wolsey

[Aside to Gardiner]
 
Give me your hand much joy and favour to you;
You are the king’s now.

Gardiner

[Aside to Cardinal Wolsey]
But to be commanded
For ever by your grace, whose hand has raised me.

King Henry VIII

Come hither, Gardiner.

Walks and whispers

Cardinal Campeius

My Lord of York, was not one Doctor Pace
In this man’s place before him?

Cardinal Wolsey

Yes, he was.

Cardinal Campeius

Was he not held a learned man?

Cardinal Wolsey

Yes, surely.

Cardinal Campeius

Believe me, there’s an ill opinion spread then
Even of yourself, lord cardinal.

Cardinal Wolsey

How! of me?

Cardinal Campeius

They will not stick to say you envied him,
And fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous,
Kept him a foreign man still; which so grieved him,
That he ran mad and died.

Cardinal Wolsey

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

King Henry VIII

Deliver this with modesty to the queen.

Exit Gardiner

The most convenient place that I can think of
For such receipt of learning is Black-Friars;
There ye shall meet about this weighty business.
My Wolsey, see it furnish’d. O, my lord,
Would it not grieve an able man to leave
So sweet a bedfellow? But, conscience, conscience!
O, ’tis a tender place; and I must leave her.