ACT II.
Scene I. Westminster. A street.
Enter two Gentlemen, meeting.[243]
First Gent. Whither away so fast?
Sec. Gent. O, God save ye![244]
Even to the hall, to hear what shall become[245]
Of the great Duke of Buckingham.
First Gent. I'll save you
That labour, sir. All's now done, but the ceremony
Of bringing back the prisoner.
Sec. Gent. Were you there? 5
First Gent. Yes, indeed was I.
Sec. Gent. Pray, speak what has happen'd.[246]
First Gent. You may guess quickly what.
Sec. Gent. Is he found guilty?
First Gent. Yes, truly is he, and condemn'd upon 't.[247]
Sec. Gent. I am sorry for 't.[248]
First Gent. So are a number more.
Sec. Gent. But, pray, how pass'd it? 10
First Gent. 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[249]
Many sharp reasons to defeat the law.
The king's attorney on the contrary 15
Urged on the examinations, proofs, confessions[250]
Of divers witnesses; which the duke desired
To have brought viva voce to his face:[251]
At which appear'd against him his surveyor;
Sir Gilbert Peck his chancellor; and John Car, 20
Confessor to him; with that devil monk,
Hopkins, that made this mischief.
Sec. Gent. That was he
That fed him with his prophecies?[252]
First Gent. The same.
All these accused him strongly; which he fain
Would have flung from him, but indeed he could not: 25
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.
Sec. Gent. After all this, how did he bear himself? 30
First Gent. When he was brought again to the bar, to hear
His knell rung out, his judgement, he was stirr'd
With such an agony, he sweat extremely[253]
And something spoke in choler, ill and hasty:
But he fell to himself again and sweetly 35
In all the rest show'd a most noble patience.
Sec. Gent. I do not think he fears death.
First Gent. Sure, he does not;
He never was so womanish; the cause
He may a little grieve at.
Sec. Gent. Certainly
The cardinal is the end of this.[254]
First Gent. 'Tis likely, 40
By all conjectures: first, Kildare's attainder,[255]
Then deputy of Ireland; who removed,
Earl Surrey was sent thither, and in haste too,
Lest he should help his father.
Sec. Gent. That trick of state
Was a deep envious one.[256]
First Gent. At his return 45
No doubt he will requite it. This is noted,
And generally, whoever the king favours,
The cardinal instantly will find employment,[257]
And far enough from court too.
Sec. Gent. All the commons
Hate him perniciously, and, o' my conscience, 50
Wish him ten fathom deep: this duke as much
They love and dote on; call him bounteous Buckingham,
The mirror of all courtesy—[258]
First Gent. Stay there, sir,
And see the noble ruin'd man you speak of.
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
Walter Sands, and common people, &c.[259]
Sec. Gent. Let's stand close, and behold him.
Buck. All good people,[260]55
You that thus far have come to pity me,[261]
Hear what I say, and then go home and lose me.
I have this day received a traitor's judgement,
And by that name must die: yet, heaven bear witness,
And if I have a conscience, let it sink me, 60
Even as the axe falls, if I be not faithful!
The law I bear no malice for my death;[262]
'T has done upon the premisses but justice:[263]
But those that sought it I could wish more Christians:
Be what they will, I heartily forgive 'em:[264] 65
Yet let 'em look they glory not in mischief,[264]
Nor build their evils on the graves of great men;[265]
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[266] 70
More than I dare make faults. You few that loved me[267]
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, 75
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.[268]
Lov. I do beseech your grace, for charity,
If ever any malice in your heart 80
Were hid against me, now to forgive me frankly.[269]
Buck. 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[270][271][272][273] 85
Shall make my grave. Commend me to his grace,[270][272]
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,[274]
Shall cry for blessings on him: may he live 90
Longer than I have time to tell his years!
Ever beloved and loving may his rule be![275]
And when old time shall lead him to his end,
Goodness and he fill up one monument!
Lov. To the water side I must conduct your grace; 95
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.
Buck. Nay, Sir Nicholas, 100
Let it alone; my state now will but mock me.[276]
When I came hither, I was lord high constable
And Duke of Buckingham; now, poor Edward Bohun:[277]
Yet I am richer than my base accusers,
That never knew what truth meant: I now seal it; 105
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 succour to his servant Banister,
Being distress'd, was by that wretch betray'd, 110
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, 115
Henry the Eighth, life, honour, name and all[278]
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: 120
Yet thus far we are one in fortunes: both[279]
Fell by our servants, by those men we loved most;[280]
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: 125
Where you are liberal of your loves and counsels
Be sure you be not loose; for those you make friends[281]
And give your hearts to, when they once perceive
The least rub in your fortunes, fall away
Like water from ye, never found again 130
But where they mean to sink ye. All good people,[282]
Pray for me! I must now forsake ye: the last hour[283]
Of my long weary life is come upon me.[284]
Farewell:[285]
And when you would say something that is sad,[284][286] 135
Speak how I fell. I have done; and God forgive me![287]
[Exeunt Duke and Train.
First Gent. O, this is full of pity! Sir, it calls,
I fear, too many curses on their heads
That were the authors.
Sec. Gent. If the duke be guiltless,
'Tis full of woe: yet I can give you inkling 140
Of an ensuing evil, if it fall,
Greater than this.
First Gent. Good angels keep it from us!
What may it be? You do not doubt my faith, sir?[288]
Sec. Gent. This secret is so weighty, 'twill require
A strong faith to conceal it.
First Gent. Let me have it; 145
I do not talk much.
Sec. Gent. I am confident;
You shall, sir: did you not of late days hear
A buzzing of a separation
Between the king and Katharine?
First Gent. Yes, but it held not:[289]
For when the king once heard it, out of anger 150
He sent command to the lord mayor straight[290]
To stop the rumour and allay those tongues
That durst disperse it.
See. Gent. But that slander, sir,
Is found a truth now: for it grows again[291]
Fresher than e'er it was, and held for certain 155
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; 160
As all think, for this business.
First Gent. '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.
Sec. Gent. I think you have hit the mark: but is't not cruel[292]165
That she should feel the smart of this? The cardinal
Will have his will, and she must fall.
First Gent. 'Tis woeful.
We are too open here to argue this;
Let's think in private more. [Exeunt.[293]
Scene II. An ante-chamber in the palace.
Enter the Lord Chamberlain, reading a letter.[294]
Cham. 'My lord, the horses your lordship sent for, with all the[295]
care I had, I saw well chosen, ridden, and furnished. They were[295]
young and handsome, and of the best breed in the north. When they[295]
were ready to set out for London, a man of my lord cardinal's, by commission[295]
and main power, took 'em from me; with this reason: His[295][296] 5
master would be served before a subject, if not before the king; which[295]
stopped our mouths, sir.'[295][297]
I fear he will indeed: well, let him have them:[298]
He will have all, I think.[298]
Enter to the Lord Chamberlain, the Dukes of Norfolk and
Suffolk.
Nor. Well met, my lord chamberlain.[299] 10
Cham. Good day to both your graces.
Suf. How is the king employ'd?
Cham. I left him private,
Full of sad thoughts and troubles.
Nor. What's the cause?
Cham. It seems the marriage with his brother's wife
Has crept too near his conscience.
Suf. No, his conscience 15
Has crept too near another lady.
Nor. 'Tis so:
This is the cardinal's doing, the king-cardinal:[300]
That blind priest, like the eldest son of fortune,
Turns what he list. The king will know him one day.[301]
Suf. Pray God he do! he'll never know himself else.[302] 20
Nor. How holily he works in all his business![303]
And with what zeal! for, now he has crack'd the league
Between us and the emperor, the queen's great nephew.[304]
He dives into the king's soul, and there scatters
Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience,[305] 25
Fears and despairs; and all these for his marriage:[306]
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, 30
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?
Cham. Heaven keep me from such counsel! 'Tis most true 35
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,[307]
The French king's sister. Heaven will one day open
The king's eyes that so long have slept upon 40
This bold bad man.
Suf. And free us from his slavery.
Nor. We had need pray,
And heartily, for our deliverance;[308]
Or this imperious man will work us all
From princes into pages: all men's honours 45
Lie like one lump before him, to be fashion'd[309]
Into what pitch he please.[310]
Suf. 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 50
Touch me alike; they're breath I not believe in.[311]
I knew him, and I know him; so I leave him
To him that made him proud, the pope.
Nor. Let's in;
And with some other business put the king
From these sad thoughts that work too much upon him: 55
My lord, you'll bear us company?
Cham. Excuse me;
The king has sent me otherwhere: besides,
You'll find a most unfit time to disturb him:[312]
Health to your lordships.
Nor. Thanks, my good lord chamberlain.
[Exit Lord Chamberlain; and the King
draws the curtain and sits reading
pensively.[313]
Suf. How sad he looks! sure, he is much afflicted.[314] 60
King. Who's there, ha?
Nor. Pray God he be not angry.[315]
King. Who's there, I say? How dare you thrust yourselves
Into my private meditations?
Who am I? ha?
Nor. A gracious king that pardons all offences 65
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:[316]
Go to; I'll make ye know your times of business:
Is this an hour for temporal affairs, ha? 70
Enter Wolsey and Campeius, with a commission.[317]
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 Camp.] You're welcome,[318]
Most learned reverend sir, into our kingdom:
Use us and it. [To Wols.] My good lord, have great care[319] 75
I be not found a talker.
Wol. Sir, you cannot.
I would your grace would give us but an hour
Of private conference.
King. [To Nor. and Suf.] We are busy; go.
Nor. [Aside to Suf.] This priest has no pride in him?[320]
Suf. [Aside to Nor.] Not to speak of:[321][322]
I would not be so sick though for his place:[321] 80
But this cannot continue.[321][323]
Nor. [Aside to Suf.] If it do,[321][323]
I'll venture one have-at-him.[324]
Suf. [Aside to Nor.] I another.
[Exeunt Norfolk and Suffolk.
Wol. Your grace has given a precedent of wisdom[325]
Above all princes, in committing freely
Your scruple to the voice of Christendom: 85
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[326] 90
Have their free voices: Rome, the nurse of judgement,[327]
Invited by your noble self, hath sent
One general tongue unto us, this good man,
This just and learned priest, Cardinal Campeius;[328]
Whom once more I present unto your highness. 95
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.[329]
Cam. Your grace must needs deserve all strangers' loves,
You are so noble. To your highness' hand 100
I tender my commission; by whose virtue,
The court of Rome commanding, you, my lord[330]
Cardinal of York, are join'd with me their servant
In the impartial judging of this business.
King. Two equal men. The queen shall be acquainted 105
Forthwith for what you come. Where's Gardiner?
Wol. I know your majesty has always loved her
So dear in heart, not to deny her that[331]
A woman of less place might ask by law,
Scholars allow'd freely to argue for her. 110
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. [Exit Wolsey.
Re-enter Wolsey, with Gardiner.[332]
Wol. [Aside to Gard.] Give me your hand: much joy and favour to you;[333]115
You are the king's now.
Gard. [Aside to Wol.] But to be commanded[333]
For ever by your grace, whose hand has raised me.
King. Come hither, Gardiner. [Walks and whispers.[334]
Cam. My Lord of York, was not one Doctor Pace
In this man's place before him?
Wol. Yes, he was. 120
Cam. Was he not held a learned man?
Wol. Yes, surely.
Cam. Believe me, there's an ill opinion spread then,
Even of yourself, lord cardinal.
Wol. How! of me?
Cam. They will not stick to say you envied him,
And fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous, 125
Kept him a foreign man still; which so grieved him
That he ran mad and died.
Wol. 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, 130
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. Deliver this with modesty to the queen.
[Exit Gardiner.