The Life of Henry the Eighth

SCENE IV. A Hall in York Place

[Hautboys. A small table under a state for the Cardinal, a longer table for the guests. Then enter Anne Bullen and divers other Ladies and Gentlemen as guests, at one door; at another door, enter Sir Henry Guildford.]

GUILDFORDLadies, a general welcome from his GraceSalutes ye all; this night he dedicatesTo fair content and you. None here, he hopes,In all this noble bevy, has brought with herOne care abroad. He would have all as merryAs, first, good company, good wine, good welcome,Can make good people.

[Enter Lord Chamberlain, Lord Sandys, and Sir Thomas Lovell.]

O, my lord, you're tardy;The very thought of this fair companyClapp'd wings to me.CHAMBERLAINYou are young, Sir Harry Guildford.SANDYSSir Thomas Lovell, had the CardinalBut half my lay thoughts in him, some of theseShould find a running banquet ere they rested,I think would better please 'em. By my life,They are a sweet society of fair ones.LOVELLO, that your lordship were but now confessorTo one or two of these!SANDYSI would I were;They should find easy penance.LOVELLFaith, how easy?SANDYSAs easy as a down-bed would afford it.CHAMBERLAINSweet ladies, will it please you sit? Sir Harry,Place you that side; I'll take the charge of this.His Grace is ent'ring. Nay, you must not freeze;Two women plac'd together makes cold weather.My Lord Sandys, you are one will keep 'em waking;Pray, sit between these ladies.SANDYSBy my faith,And thank your lordship. By your leave, sweet ladies.If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me;I had it from my father.ANNEWas he mad, sir?SANDYSO, very mad, exceeding mad; in love too;But he would bite none. Just as I do now,He would kiss you twenty with a breath.

[Kisses her.]

CHAMBERLAINWell said, my lord.So, now you're fairly seated. Gentlemen,The penance lies on you, if these fair ladiesPass away frowning.SANDYSFor my little cure,Let me alone.

[Hautboys. Enter Cardinal Wolsey, and takes his state.]

WOLSEYYou're welcome, my fair guests. That noble ladyOr gentleman that is not freely merryIs not my friend. This, to confirm my welcome;And to you all, good health.

[Drinks.]

SANDYSYour Grace is noble.Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks,And save me so much talking.WOLSEYMy Lord Sandys,I am beholding to you; cheer your neighbours.Ladies, you are not merry. Gentlemen,Whose fault is this?SANDYSThe red wine first must riseIn their fair cheeks, my lord; then we shall have 'emTalk us to silence.ANNEYou are a merry gamester,My Lord Sandys.SANDYSYes, if I make my play.Here's to your ladyship; and pledge it, madam,For 'tis to such a thing, —ANNEYou cannot show me.SANDYSI told your Grace they would talk anon.

[Drum and trumpet, chambers discharged.]

WOLSEYWhat's that?CHAMBERLAINLook out there, some of ye.

[Exit Servant.]

WOLSEYWhat warlike voice,And to what end, is this? Nay, ladies, fear not;By all the laws of war you're privileg'd.

[Re-enter Servant.]

CHAMBERLAINHow now! what is't?SERVANTA noble troop of strangers,For so they seem. They've left their barge and landed,And hither make, as great ambassadorsFrom foreign princes.WOLSEYGood Lord Chamberlain,Go, give 'em welcome; you can speak the French tongue;And, pray, receive 'em nobly, and conduct 'emInto our presence, where this heaven of beautyShall shine at full upon them. Some attend him.

[Exit Chamberlain, attended. All rise, and tables remov'd.]

You have now a broken banquet; but we'll mend it.A good digestion to you all; and once moreI shower a welcome on ye. Welcome all!

[Hautboys. Enter the King, and others, as masquers, habited like shepherds, usher'd by the Lord Chamberlain. They pass directly before the Cardinal, and gracefully salute him.]

A noble company! What are their pleasures?CHAMBERLAINBecause they speak no English, thus they pray'dTo tell your Grace, that, having heard by fameOf this so noble and so fair assemblyThis night to meet here, they could do no less,Out of the great respect they bear to beauty,But leave their flocks; and, under your fair conduct,Crave leave to view these ladies and entreatAn hour of revels with 'em.WOLSEYSay, Lord Chamberlain,They have done my poor house grace; for which I pay 'emA thousand thanks, and pray 'em take their pleasures.

[They choose ladies for the dance. The King chooses Anne Bullen.]

KINGThe fairest hand I ever touch'd! O beauty,Till now I never knew thee!

[Music. Dance.]

WOLSEYMy lord!CHAMBERLAINYour Grace?WOLSEYPray, tell 'em thus much from me:There should be one amongst 'em, by his person,More worthy this place than myself; to whom,If I but knew him, with my love and dutyI would surrender it.CHAMBERLAINI will, my lord.

[Whispers the Masquers.]

WOLSEYWhat say they?CHAMBERLAINSuch a one, they all confess,There is indeed; which they would have your GraceFind out, and he will take it.WOLSEYLet me see, then.By all your good leaves, gentlemen; here I'll makeMy royal choice.KINGYe have found him, Cardinal. [Unmasking.]You hold a fair assembly; you do well, lord.You are a churchman, or, I'll tell you, Cardinal,I should judge now unhappily.WOLSEYI am gladYour Grace is grown so pleasant.KINGMy Lord Chamberlain,Prithee come hither. What fair lady's that?CHAMBERLAINAn't please your Grace, Sir Thomas Bullen's daughter, —The Viscount Rochford, – one of her Highness' women.KINGBy heaven, she is a dainty one. Sweetheart,I were unmannerly to take you outAnd not to kiss you. A health, gentlemenLet it go round.WOLSEYSir Thomas Lovell, is the banquet readyI' the privy chamber?LOVELLYes, my lord.WOLSEYYour Grace,I fear, with dancing is a little heated.KINGI fear, too much.WOLSEYThere's fresher air, my lord,In the next chamber.KINGLead in your ladies, every one. Sweet partner,I must not yet forsake you; let's be merry.Good my Lord Cardinal, I have half a dozen healthsTo drink to these fair ladies, and a measureTo lead 'em once again; and then let's dreamWho's best in favour. Let the music knock it.

[Exeunt with trumpets.]

ACT II

SCENE I. Westminster. A street

[Enter two Gentlemen at several doors.]

FIRST GENTLEMANWhither away so fast?SECOND GENTLEMANO, God save ye!Even to the hall, to hear what shall becomeOf the great Duke of Buckingham.FIRST GENTLEMANI'll save youThat labour, sir. All's now done, but the ceremonyOf bringing back the prisoner.SECOND GENTLEMANWere you there?FIRST GENTLEMANYes, indeed, was I.SECOND GENTLEMANPray, speak what has happen'd.FIRST GENTLEMANYou may guess quickly what.SECOND GENTLEMANIs he found guilty?FIRST GENTLEMANYes, truly is he, and condemn'd upon't.SECOND GENTLEMANI am sorry for't.FIRST GENTLEMANSo are a number more.SECOND GENTLEMANBut, pray, how pass'd it?FIRST GENTLEMANI'll tell you in a little. The great DukeCame to the bar; where to his accusationsHe pleaded still not guilty and allegedMany sharp reasons to defeat the law.The King's attorney on the contraryUrg'd on the examinations, proofs, confessionsOf divers witnesses; which the Duke desir'dTo have brought viva voce to his face;At which appear'd against him his surveyor;Sir Gilbert Peck his chancellor; and John Car,Confessor to him, with that devil-monk,Hopkins, that made this mischief.SECOND GENTLEMANThat was heThat fed him with his prophecies?FIRST GENTLEMANThe same.All these accus'd him strongly; which he fainWould have flung from him, but, indeed, he could not.And so his peers, upon this evidence,Have found him guilty of high treason. MuchHe spoke, and learnedly, for life; but allWas either pitied in him or forgotten.SECOND GENTLEMANAfter all this, how did he bear himself?FIRST GENTLEMANWhen he was brought again to the bar, to hearHis knell rung out, his judgment, he was stirr'dWith such an agony, he sweat extremely,And something spoke in choler, ill, and hasty.But he fell to himself again, and sweetlyIn all the rest show'd a most noble patience.SECOND GENTLEMANI do not think he fears death.FIRST GENTLEMANSure, he does not;He never was so womanish. The causeHe may a little grieve at.SECOND GENTLEMANCertainlyThe Cardinal is the end of this.FIRST GENTLEMAN'Tis likely,By all conjectures: first, Kildare's attainder,Then deputy of Ireland; who remov'd,Earl Surrey was sent thither, and in haste too,Lest he should help his father.SECOND GENTLEMANThat trick of stateWas a deep envious one.FIRST GENTLEMANAt his returnNo doubt he will requite it. This is noted,And generally, whoever the King favours,The Cardinal instantly will find employment,And far enough from court too.SECOND GENTLEMANAll the commonsHate him perniciously, and, o' my conscience,Wish him ten fathom deep. This duke as muchThey love and dote on; call him bounteous Buckingham,The mirror of all courtesy, —

[Enter Buckingham from his arraignment; tipstaves before him; the axe with the edge towards him; halberds on each side; accompanied with Sir Thomas Lovell, Sir Nicholas Vaux, Sir William Sandys, and common people.]

FIRST GENTLEMANStay there, sir,And see the noble ruin'd man you speak of.SECOND GENTLEMANLet's stand close, and behold him.BUCKINGHAMAll good people,You that thus far have come to pity me,Hear what I say, and then go home and lose me.I have this day receiv'd a traitor's judgement,And by that name must die; yet, Heaven bear witness,And if I have a conscience, let it sink me,Even as the axe falls, if I be not faithful!The law I bear no malice for my death;'T has done, upon the premises, but justice;But those that sought it I could wish more Christians.Be what they will, I heartily forgive 'em;Yet let 'em look they glory not in mischief,Nor build their evils on the graves of great men,For then my guiltless blood must cry against 'em.For further life in this world I ne'er hope,Nor will I sue, although the King have merciesMore than I dare make faults. You few that lov'd meAnd dare be bold to weep for Buckingham,His noble friends and fellows, whom to leaveIs only bitter to him, only dying,Go with me, like good angels, to my end;And, as the long divorce of steel falls on me,Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice,And lift my soul to heaven. Lead on, o' God's name.LOVELLI do beseech your Grace, for charity,If ever any malice in your heartWere hid against me, now to forgive me frankly.BUCKINGHAMSir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive youAs I would be forgiven. I forgive all.There cannot be those numberless offences'Gainst me, that I cannot take peace with; no black envyShall mark my grave. Commend me to his Grace;And, if he speak of Buckingham, pray, tell himYou met him half in heaven. My vows and prayersYet are the King's; and, till my soul forsake,Shall cry for blessings on him. May he liveLonger than I have time to tell his years!Ever belov'd and loving may his rule be!And when old Time shall lead him to his end,Goodness and he fill up one monument!LOVELLTo the water side I must conduct your Grace;Then give my charge up to Sir Nicholas Vaux,Who undertakes you to your end.VAUXPrepare there,The Duke is coming. See the barge be ready;And fit it with such furniture as suitsThe greatness of his person.BUCKINGHAMNay, Sir Nicholas,Let it alone; my state now will but mock me.When I came hither, I was Lord High ConstableAnd 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 rais'd head against usurping Richard,Flying for succour to his servant Banister,Being distress'd, was by that wretch betray'd,And without trial fell; God's peace be with him!Henry the Seventh succeeding, truly pityingMy father's loss, like a most royal prince,Restor'd me to my honours, and, out of ruins,Made my name once more noble. Now his son,Henry the Eighth, life, honour, name, and allThat made me happy, at one stroke has takenFor ever from the world. I had my trial,And, must needs say, a noble one; which makes meA little happier than my wretched father.Yet thus far we are one in fortunes: bothFell by our servants, by those men we lov'd 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 counselsBe sure you be not loose; for those you make friendsAnd give your hearts to, when they once perceiveThe least rub in your fortunes, fall awayLike water from ye; never found againBut where they mean to sink ye. All good people,Pray for me! I must now forsake ye. The last hourOf 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 Duke and train.]

FIRST GENTLEMANO, this is full of pity! Sir, it calls,I fear, too many curses on their headsThat were the authors.SECOND GENTLEMANIf the Duke be guiltless,'Tis full of woe; yet I can give you inklingOf an ensuing evil, if it fall,Greater than this.FIRST GENTLEMANGood angels keep it from us!What may it be? You do not doubt my faith, sir?SECOND GENTLEMANThis secret is so weighty, 'twill requireA strong faith to conceal it.FIRST GENTLEMANLet me have it.I do not talk much.SECOND GENTLEMANI am confident;You shall, sir. Did you not of late days hearA buzzing of a separationBetween the King and Katherine?FIRST GENTLEMANYes, but it held not;For when the King once heard it, out of angerHe sent command to the Lord Mayor straightTo stop the rumour, and allay those tonguesThat durst disperse it.SECOND GENTLEMANBut that slander, sir,Is found a truth now; for it grows againFresher than e'er it was; and held for certainThe King will venture at it. Either the Cardinal,Or some about him near, have, out of maliceTo the good Queen, possess'd him with a scrupleThat will undo her. To confirm this too,Cardinal Campeius is arriv'd, and lately;As all think, for this business.FIRST GENTLEMAN'Tis the Cardinal;And merely to revenge him on the EmperorFor not bestowing on him, at his asking,The archbishopric of Toledo, this is purpos'd.SECOND GENTLEMANI think you have hit the mark; but is't not cruelThat she should feel the smart of this? The CardinalWill have his will, and she must fall.FIRST GENTLEMAN'Tis woeful.We are too open here to argue this;Let's think in private more.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE II. An ante-chamber in the palace

[Enter the Lord Chamberlain, reading this letter:.]

CHAMBERLAIN. "My lord, the horses your lordship sent for, with all the care had, I saw well chosen, ridden, and furnish'd. 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 serv'd before a subject, if not before the King; which stopp'd our mouths, sir." I fear he will indeed. Well, let him have them: He will have all, I think.

[Enter to the Lord Chamberlain the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk.]

NORFOLKWell met, my Lord Chamberlain.CHAMBERLAINGood day to both your Graces.SUFFOLKHow is the King employ'd?CHAMBERLAINI left him private,Full of sad thoughts and troubles.NORFOLKWhat's the cause?CHAMBERLAINIt seems the marriage with his brother's wifeHas crept too near his conscience.SUFFOLKNo, his conscienceHas 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.SUFFOLKPray God he do! he'll never know himself else.NORFOLKHow holily he works in all his business!And with what zeal! for, now he has crack'd the leagueBetween us and the Emperor, the Queen's great nephew,He dives into the King's soul, and there scattersDangers, 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 herThat, like a jewel, has hung twenty yearsAbout his neck, yet never lost her lustre;Of her that loves him with that excellenceThat angels love good men with; even of herThat, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls,Will bless the King. And is not this course pious?CHAMBERLAINHeaven keep me from such counsel! 'Tis most trueThese news are everywhere; every tongue speaks 'em,And every true heart weeps for't. All that dareLook into these affairs see this main end,The French king's sister. Heaven will one day openThe King's eyes, that so long have slept uponThis bold bad man.SUFFOLKAnd free us from his slavery.NORFOLKWe had need pray,And heartily, for our deliverance;Or this imperious man will work us anFrom princes into pages. All men's honoursLie like one lump before him, to be fashion'dInto what pitch he please.SUFFOLKFor 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 blessingsTouch me alike, they'are breath I not believe in.I knew him, and I know him; so I leave himTo him that made him proud, the Pope.NORFOLKLet's in;And with some other business put the KingFrom these sad thoughts, that work too much upon him.My lord, you'll bear us company?CHAMBERLAINExcuse me,The King has sent me otherwhere. Besides,You'll find a most unfit time to disturb him.Health to your lordships!NORFOLKThanks, my good Lord Chamberlain.

[Exit Lord Chamberlain; Norfolk draws the curtain, and discovers the King reading pensively.]

SUFFOLKHow sad he looks! Sure, he is much afflicted.KINGWho's there, ha?NORFOLKPray God he be not angry.KINGWho's there, I say? How dare you thrust yourselvesInto my private meditations?Who am I? ha?NORFOLKA gracious king that pardons all offencesMalice ne'er meant. Our breach of duty this wayIs business of estate; in which we comeTo know your royal pleasure.KINGYe are too bold.Go to; I'll make ye know your times of business.Is this an hour for temporal affairs, ha?

[Enter Wolsey and 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 Campeius.] You're welcome,Most learned reverend sir, into our kingdom;Use us and it. [To Wolsey.] My good lord, have great careI be not found a talker.WOLSEYSir, you cannot.I would your Grace would give us but an hourOf private conference.KING[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.]

WOLSEYYour Grace has given a precedent of wisdomAbove all princes, in committing freelyYour scruple to the voice of Christendom.Who can be angry now? What envy reach you?The Spaniard, tied by 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 kingdomsHave their free voices. Rome, the nurse of judgement,Invited by your noble self, hath sentOne general tongue unto us, this good man,This just and learned priest, Cardinal Campeius,Whom once more I present unto your Highness.KINGAnd 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.CAMPEIUSYour Grace must needs deserve all strangers' loves,You are so noble. To your Highness' handI tender my commission; by whose virtue,The court of Rome commanding – you, my LordCardinal of York, are join'd with me their servantIn the unpartial judging of this business.KINGTwo equal men. The Queen shall be acquaintedForthwith for what you come. Where's Gardiner?WOLSEYI know your Majesty has always lov'd herSo dear in heart not to deny her thatA woman of less place might ask by law,Scholars allow'd freely to argue for her.KINGAy, and the best she shall have; and my favourTo him that does best; God forbid else. Cardinal,Prithee, call Gardiner to me, my new secretary.I find him a fit fellow.

[Exit Wolsey.]

[Re-enter Wolsey, with Gardiner.]

WOLSEY

[Aside to Gardiner.]

Give me your hand. Much joy and favour to you;You are the King's now.GARDINER[Aside to Wolsey.] But to be commandedFor ever by your Grace, whose hand has rais'd me.KINGCome hither, Gardiner.

[Walks and whispers.]

CAMPEIUSMy Lord of York, was not one Doctor PaceIn this man's place before him?WOLSEYYes, he was.CAMPEIUSWas he not held a learned man?WOLSEYYes, surely.CAMPEIUSBelieve me, there's an ill opinion spread thenEven of yourself, Lord Cardinal.WOLSEYHow! of me?CAMPEIUSThey will not stick to say you envi'd him,And fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous,Kept him a foreign man still; which so griev'd himThat he ran mad and died.WOLSEYHeav'n's peace be with him!That's Christian care enough. For living murmurersThere'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.KINGDeliver this with modesty to the Queen.

[Exit Gardiner.]

The most convenient place that I can think ofFor 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 leaveSo sweet a bedfellow? But, conscience, conscience!O, 'tis a tender place; and I must leave her.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE III. An ante-chamber of the Queen's apartments

[Enter Anne Bullen and an Old Lady.]

ANNENot for that neither. Here's the pang that pinches:His Highness having liv'd so long with her, and sheSo good a lady that no tongue could everPronounce dishonour of her, – by my life,She never knew harm-doing – O, now, afterSo many courses of the sun enthroned,Still growing in a majesty and pomp, the whichTo leave a thousand-fold more bitter than'Tis sweet at first to acquire, – after this process,To give her the avaunt, it is a pityWould move a monster.OLD LADYHearts of most hard temperMelt and lament for her.ANNEO, God's will, much betterShe ne'er had known pomp! Though't be temporal,Yet, if that quarrel, fortune, do divorceIt from the bearer, 'tis a sufferance pangingAs soul and body's severing.OLD LADYAlas, poor lady!She's a stranger now again.ANNESo much the moreMust pity drop upon her. Verily,I swear, 'tis better to be lowly bornAnd range with humble livers in content,Than to be perk'd up in a glist'ring grief,And wear a golden sorrow.OLD LADYOur contentIs our best having.ANNEBy my troth and maidenhead,I would not be a queen.OLD LADYBeshrew me, I would,And venture maidenhead for't; and so would you,For all this spice of your hypocrisy.You, that have so fair parts of woman on you,Have too a woman's heart, which ever yetAffected eminence, wealth, sovereignty;Which, to say sooth, are blessings; and which gifts,Saving your mincing, the capacityOf your soft cheveril conscience would receive,If you might please to stretch it.ANNENay, good troth.OLD LADYYes, troth and troth. You would not be a queen?ANNENo, not for all the riches under heaven.OLD LADY'Tis strange. A three-pence bow'd would hire me,Old as I am, to queen it. But, I pray you,What think you of a duchess? Have you limbsTo bear that load of title?ANNENo, in truth.OLD LADYThen you are weakly made; pluck off a little.I would not be a young count in your way,For more than blushing comes to. If your backCannot vouchsafe this burden, 'tis too weakEver to get a boy.ANNEHow you do talk!I swear again I would not be a queenFor all the world.OLD LADYIn faith, for little EnglandYou'd venture an emballing. I myselfWould for Carnarvonshire, although there long'dNo more to the crown but that. Lo, who comes here?

[Enter the Lord Chamberlain.]

CHAMBERLAINGood morrow, ladies. What were't worth to knowThe secret of your conference?ANNEMy good lord,Not your demand; it values not your asking.Our mistress' sorrows we were pitying.CHAMBERLAINIt was a gentle business, and becomingThe action of good women. There is hopeAll will be well.ANNENow, I pray God, amen!CHAMBERLAINYou bear a gentle mind, and heavenly blessingsFollow such creatures. That you may, fair lady,Perceive I speak sincerely, and high note'sTa'en of your many virtues, the King's MajestyCommends his good opinion of you, andDoes purpose honour to you no less flowingThan Marchioness of Pembroke; to which titleA thousand pound a year, annual support,Out of his grace he adds.ANNEI do not knowWhat kind of my obedience I should tender.More than my all is nothing; nor my prayersAre not words duly hallowed, nor my wishesMore worth than empty vanities; yet prayers and wishesAre all I can return. Beseech your lordship,Vouchsafe to speak my thanks and my obedience,As from a blushing handmaid, to his Highness;Whose health and royalty I pray for.CHAMBERLAINLady,I shall not fail to approve the fair conceitThe King hath of you. [Aside.] I have perus'd her well.Beauty and honour in her are so mingledThat they have caught the King; and who knows yetBut from this lady may proceed a gemTo lighten all this isle? I'll to the King,And say I spoke with you.

[Exit Lord Chamberlain.]