King Henry the Eighth

ACT I. SCENE 3

London. The palace

Enter the LORD CHAMBERLAIN and LORD SANDYS

  CHAMBERLAIN. Is't possible the spells of France should juggle    Men into such strange mysteries?  SANDYS. New customs,    Though they be never so ridiculous,    Nay, let 'em be unmanly, yet are follow'd.  CHAMBERLAIN. As far as I see, all the good our English    Have got by the late voyage is but merely    A fit or two o' th' face; but they are shrewd ones;    For when they hold 'em, you would swear directly    Their very noses had been counsellors    To Pepin or Clotharius, they keep state so.  SANDYS. They have all new legs, and lame ones. One would takeit,    That never saw 'em pace before, the spavin    Or springhalt reign'd among 'em.  CHAMBERLAIN. Death! my lord,    Their clothes are after such a pagan cut to't,    That sure th' have worn out Christendom.

Enter SIR THOMAS LOVELL

    How now?    What news, Sir Thomas Lovell?  LOVELL. Faith, my lord,    I hear of none but the new proclamation    That's clapp'd upon the court gate.  CHAMBERLAIN. What is't for?  LOVELL. The reformation of our travell'd gallants,    That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors.  CHAMBERLAIN. I am glad 'tis there. Now I would pray ourmonsieurs    To think an English courtier may be wise,    And never see the Louvre.  LOVELL. They must either,    For so run the conditions, leave those remnants    Of fool and feather that they got in France,    With all their honourable points of ignorance    Pertaining thereunto-as fights and fireworks;    Abusing better men than they can be,    Out of a foreign wisdom-renouncing clean    The faith they have in tennis, and tall stockings,    Short blist'red breeches, and those types of travel    And understand again like honest men,    Or pack to their old playfellows. There, I take it,    They may, cum privilegio, wear away    The lag end of their lewdness and be laugh'd at.  SANDYS. 'Tis time to give 'em physic, their diseases    Are grown so catching.  CHAMBERLAIN. What a loss our ladies    Will have of these trim vanities!  LOVELL. Ay, marry,    There will be woe indeed, lords: the sly whoresons    Have got a speeding trick to lay down ladies.    A French song and a fiddle has no fellow.  SANDYS. The devil fiddle 'em! I am glad they are going,    For sure there's no converting 'em. Now    An honest country lord, as I am, beaten    A long time out of play, may bring his plainsong    And have an hour of hearing; and, by'r Lady,    Held current music too.  CHAMBERLAIN. Well said, Lord Sandys;    Your colt's tooth is not cast yet.  SANDYS. No, my lord,    Nor shall not while I have a stamp.  CHAMBERLAIN. Sir Thomas,    Whither were you a-going?  LOVELL. To the Cardinal's;    Your lordship is a guest too.  CHAMBERLAIN. O, 'tis true;    This night he makes a supper, and a great one,    To many lords and ladies; there will be    The beauty of this kingdom, I'll assure you.  LOVELL. That churchman bears a bounteous mind indeed,    A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us;    His dews fall everywhere.  CHAMBERLAIN. No doubt he's noble;    He had a black mouth that said other of him.  SANDYS. He may, my lord; has wherewithal. In him    Sparing would show a worse sin than ill doctrine:    Men of his way should be most liberal,    They are set here for examples.  CHAMBERLAIN. True, they are so;    But few now give so great ones. My barge stays;    Your lordship shall along. Come, good Sir Thomas,    We shall be late else; which I would not be,    For I was spoke to, with Sir Henry Guildford,    This night to be comptrollers.  SANDYS. I am your lordship's.

Exeunt

ACT I. SCENE 4

London. The Presence Chamber 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

  GUILDFORD. Ladies, a general welcome from his Grace    Salutes ye all; this night he dedicates    To fair content and you. None here, he hopes,    In all this noble bevy, has brought with her    One care abroad; he would have all as merry    As, first, good company, good wine, good welcome,    Can make good people.Enter LORD CHAMBERLAIN, LORD SANDYS, and SIR THOMAS LOVELL    O, my lord, y'are tardy,    The very thought of this fair company    Clapp'd wings to me.  CHAMBERLAIN. You are young, Sir Harry Guildford.  SANDYS. Sir Thomas Lovell, had the Cardinal    But half my lay thoughts in him, some of these    Should find a running banquet ere they rested    I think would better please 'em. By my life,    They are a sweet society of fair ones.  LOVELL. O that your lordship were but now confessor    To one or two of these!  SANDYS. I would I were;    They should find easy penance.  LOVELL. Faith, how easy?  SANDYS. As easy as a down bed would afford it.  CHAMBERLAIN. Sweet ladies, will it please you sit? Sir Harry,    Place you that side; I'll take the charge of this.    His Grace is 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.  SANDYS. By my faith,    And thank your lordship. By your leave, sweet ladies.                 [Seats himself between ANNE BULLEN and anotherlady]    If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me;    I had it from my father.  ANNE. Was he mad, sir?  SANDYS. O, very mad, exceeding mad, in love too.    But he would bite none; just as I do now,    He would kiss you twenty with a breath. [Kissesher]  CHAMBERLAIN. Well said, my lord.    So, now y'are fairly seated. Gentlemen,    The penance lies on you if these fair ladies    Pass away frowning.  SANDYS. For my little cure,    Let me alone.Hautboys. Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, attended; and takes his state  WOLSEY. Y'are welcome, my fair guests. That noble lady    Or gentleman that is not freely merry    Is not my friend. This, to confirm my welcome-    And to you all, good health![Drinks]  SANDYS. Your Grace is noble.    Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks    And save me so much talking.  WOLSEY. My Lord Sandys,    I am beholding to you. Cheer your neighbours.    Ladies, you are not merry. Gentlemen,    Whose fault is this?  SANDYS. The red wine first must rise    In their fair cheeks, my lord; then we shall have 'em    Talk us to silence.  ANNE. You are a merry gamester,    My Lord Sandys.  SANDYS. Yes, if I make my play.    Here's to your ladyship; and pledge it, madam,    For 'tis to such a thing-  ANNE. You cannot show me.  SANDYS. I told your Grace they would talk anon.                             [Drum and trumpet. Chambersdischarg'd]  WOLSEY. What's that?  CHAMBERLAIN. Look out there, some of ye. Exit aSERVANT  WOLSEY. What warlike voice,    And to what end, is this? Nay, ladies, fear not:    By all the laws of war y'are privileg'd.

Re-enter SERVANT

  CHAMBERLAIN. How now! what is't?  SERVANT. A noble troop of strangers-    For so they seem. Th' have left their barge and landed,    And hither make, as great ambassadors    From foreign princes.  WOLSEY. Good Lord Chamberlain,    Go, give 'em welcome; you can speak the French tongue;    And pray receive 'em nobly and conduct 'em    Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty    Shall shine at full upon them. Some attend him.              Exit CHAMBERLAIN attended. All rise, and tablesremov'd    You have now a broken banquet, but we'll mend it.    A good digestion to you all; and once more    I show'r a welcome on ye; welcome all.

Hautboys. Enter the KING, and others, as maskers, 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?  CHAMBERLAIN. Because they speak no English, thus they pray'd    To tell your Grace, that, having heard by fame    Of this so noble and so fair assembly    This night to meet here, they could do no less,    Out of the great respect they bear to beauty,    But leave their flocks and, under your fair conduct,    Crave leave to view these ladies and entreat    An hour of revels with 'em.  WOLSEY. Say, Lord Chamberlain,    They have done my poor house grace; for which I pay 'em    A thousand thanks, and pray 'em take their pleasures.                   [They choose ladies. The KING chooses ANNEBULLEN]  KING. The fairest hand I ever touch'd! O beauty,    Till now I never knew thee! [Music.Dance]  WOLSEY. My lord!  CHAMBERLAIN. Your Grace?  WOLSEY. Pray tell 'em thus much from me:    There should be one amongst 'em, by his person,    More worthy this place than myself; to whom,    If I but knew him, with my love and duty    I would surrender it.  CHAMBERLAIN. I will, my lord.                                         [He whispers to themaskers]  WOLSEY. What say they?  CHAMBERLAIN. Such a one, they all confess,    There is indeed; which they would have your Grace    Find out, and he will take it.  WOLSEY. Let me see, then. [Comes from hisstate]    By all your good leaves, gentlemen, here I'll make    My royal choice.  KING. [Unmasking] Ye have found him, Cardinal.    You hold a fair assembly; you do well, lord.    You are a churchman, or, I'll tell you, Cardinal,    I should judge now unhappily.  WOLSEY. I am glad    Your Grace is grown so pleasant.  KING. My Lord Chamberlain,    Prithee come hither: what fair lady's that?  CHAMBERLAIN. An't please your Grace, Sir Thomas Bullen's      daughter-    The Viscount Rochford-one of her Highness' women.  KING. By heaven, she is a dainty one. Sweet heart,    I were unmannerly to take you out    And not to kiss you. A health, gentlemen!    Let it go round.  WOLSEY. Sir Thomas Lovell, is the banquet ready    I' th' privy chamber?  LOVELL. Yes, my lord.  WOLSEY. Your Grace,    I fear, with dancing is a little heated.  KING. I fear, too much.  WOLSEY. There's fresher air, my lord,    In the next chamber.  KING. Lead in your ladies, ev'ry one. Sweet partner,    I must not yet forsake you. Let's be merry:    Good my Lord Cardinal, I have half a dozen healths    To drink to these fair ladies, and a measure    To lead 'em once again; and then let's dream    Who's best in favour. Let the music knock it.Exeunt, with trumpets

ACT II. SCENE 1

Westminster. A street

Enter two GENTLEMEN, at several doors

  FIRST GENTLEMAN. Whither away so fast?  SECOND GENTLEMAN. O, God save ye!    Ev'n to the Hall, to hear what shall become    Of the great Duke of Buckingham.  FIRST GENTLEMAN. I'll save you    That labour, sir. All's now done but the ceremony    Of bringing back the prisoner.  SECOND GENTLEMAN. Were you there?  FIRST GENTLEMAN. Yes, indeed, was I.  SECOND GENTLEMAN. Pray, speak what has happen'd.  FIRST GENTLEMAN. You may guess quickly what.  SECOND GENTLEMAN. Is he found guilty?  FIRST GENTLEMAN. Yes, truly is he, and condemn'd upon't.  SECOND GENTLEMAN. I am sorry for't.  FIRST GENTLEMAN. So are a number more.  SECOND GENTLEMAN. But, pray, how pass'd it?  FIRST GENTLEMAN. I'll tell you in a little. The great Duke.    Came to the bar; where to his accusations    He pleaded still not guilty, and alleged    Many sharp reasons to defeat the law.    The King's attorney, on the contrary,    Urg'd on the examinations, proofs, confessions,    Of divers witnesses; which the Duke desir'd    To have brought, viva voce, to his face;    At which appear'd against him his surveyor,    Sir Gilbert Peck his chancellor, and John Car,    Confessor to him, with that devil-monk,    Hopkins, that made this mischief.  SECOND GENTLEMAN. That was he    That fed him with his prophecies?  FIRST GENTLEMAN. The same.    All these accus'd him strongly, which he fain    Would have flung from him; but indeed he could not;    And so his peers, upon this evidence,    Have found him guilty of high treason. Much    He spoke, and learnedly, for life; but all    Was either pitied in him or forgotten.  SECOND GENTLEMAN. After all this, how did he bear him-self  FIRST GENTLEMAN. When he was brought again to th' bar to hear    His knell rung out, his judgment, he was stirr'd    With such an agony he sweat extremely,    And something spoke in choler, ill and hasty;    But he fell to himself again, and sweetly    In all the rest show'd a most noble patience.  SECOND GENTLEMAN. I do not think he fears death.  FIRST GENTLEMAN. Sure, he does not;    He never was so womanish; the cause    He may a little grieve at.  SECOND GENTLEMAN. Certainly    The Cardinal is the end of this.  FIRST GENTLEMAN. 'Tis likely,    By all conjectures: first, Kildare's attainder,    Then deputy of Ireland, who remov'd,    Earl Surrey was sent thither, and in haste too,    Lest he should help his father.  SECOND GENTLEMAN. That trick of state    Was a deep envious one.  FIRST GENTLEMAN. At his return    No doubt he will requite it. This is noted,    And generally: whoever the King favours    The Cardinal instantly will find employment,    And far enough from court too.  SECOND GENTLEMAN. All the commons    Hate him perniciously, and, o' my conscience,    Wish him ten fathom deep: this Duke as much    They love and dote on; call him bounteous Buckingham,    The mirror of all courtesy-

Enter BUCKINGHAM from his arraignment, tip-staves 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, etc.

  FIRST GENTLEMAN. Stay there, sir,    And see the noble ruin'd man you speak of.  SECOND GENTLEMAN. Let's stand close, and behold him.  BUCKINGHAM. All good people,    You that thus far have come to pity me,    Hear what I say, and then go home and lose me.    I have this day receiv'd a traitor's judgment,    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 mercies    More than I dare make faults. You few that lov'd me    And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham,    His noble friends and fellows, whom to leave    Is only bitter to him, only dying,    Go with me like good angels to my end;    And as the long divorce of steel falls on me    Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice,    And lift my soul to heaven. Lead on, a God's name.  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 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!  LOVELL. To th' 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 fort.    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 pitying    My 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 all    That made me happy, at one stroke has taken    For ever from the world. I had my trial,    And must needs say a noble one; which makes me    A little happier than my wretched father;    Yet thus far we are one in fortunes: both    Fell by our servants, by those men we lov'd most-    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 andtrain  FIRST GENTLEMAN. O, this is full of pity! Sir, it calls,    I fear, too many curses on their heads    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 rumour 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 arriv'd 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 purpos'd.  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 woeful.    We are too open here to argue this;    Let's think in private more.Exeunt

ACT II. SCENE 2

London. 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

  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 everywhere; 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 an    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; th' are 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 LORD CHAMBERLAIN; and the KINGdraws                               the curtain and sits readingpensively  SUFFOLK. How sad he looks; sure, he is much afflicted.  KING. Who's there, ha?  NORFOLK. Pray God he be not angry.  KING HENRY. 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. Ye 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 care    I be not found a talker.  WOLSEY. Sir, you cannot.    I would your Grace would give us but an hour    Of 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 andSUFFOLK  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 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 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. 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.  CAMPEIUS. Your Grace must needs deserve an 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. Two equal men. The Queen shall be acquainted    Forthwith for what you come. Where's Gardiner?  WOLSEY. I know your Majesty has always lov'd 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. 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. ExitWOLSEY

Re-enter WOLSEY with GARDINER