With words of sovereignty.
King Henry VIII
How know’st thou this?
Surveyor
Not long before your highness sped to France,
The duke being at the Rose, within the parish
Saint Lawrence Poultney, did of me demand
What was the speech among the Londoners
Concerning the French journey: I replied,
Men fear’d the French would prove perfidious,
To the king’s danger. Presently the duke
Said, ’twas the fear, indeed; and that he doubted
’Twould prove the verity of certain words
Spoke by a holy monk; ‘that oft,’ says he,
‘Hath sent to me, wishing me to permit
John de la Car, my chaplain, a choice hour
To hear from him a matter of some moment:
Whom after under the confession’s seal
He solemnly had sworn, that what he spoke
My chaplain to no creature living, but
To me, should utter, with demure confidence
This pausingly ensued: neither the king nor’s heirs,
Tell you the duke, shall prosper: bid him strive
To gain the love o’ the commonalty: the duke
Shall govern England.’
Queen Katharine
If I know you well,
You were the duke’s surveyor, and lost your office
On the complaint o’ the tenants: take good heed
You charge not in your spleen a noble person
And spoil your nobler soul: I say, take heed;
Yes, heartily beseech you.
King Henry VIII
Let him on.
Go forward.
Surveyor
On my soul, I’ll speak but truth.
I told my lord the duke, by the devil’s illusions
The monk might be deceived; and that ’twas dangerous for him
To ruminate on this so far, until
It forged him some design, which, being believed,
It was much like to do: he answer’d, ‘Tush,
It can do me no damage;’ adding further,
That, had the king in his last sickness fail’d,
The cardinal’s and Sir Thomas Lovell’s heads
Should have gone off.
King Henry VIII
Ha! what, so rank? Ah ha!
There’s mischief in this man: canst thou say further?
Surveyor
I can, my liege.
King Henry VIII
Proceed.
Surveyor
Being at Greenwich,
After your highness had reproved the duke
About Sir William Blomer,—
King Henry VIII
I remember
Of such a time: being my sworn servant,
The duke retain’d him his. But on; what hence?
Surveyor
‘If,’ quoth he, ‘I for this had been committed,
As, to the Tower, I thought, I would have play’d
The part my father meant to act upon
The usurper Richard; who, being at Salisbury,
Made suit to come in’s presence; which if granted,
As he made semblance of his duty, would
Have put his knife to him.’
King Henry VIII
A giant traitor!
Cardinal Wolsey
Now, madam, may his highness live in freedom, and this man out of prison?
Queen Katharine
God mend all!
King Henry VIII
There’s something more would out of thee; what say’st?
Surveyor
After ‘the duke his father,’ with ‘the knife,’
He stretch’d him, and, with one hand on his dagger,
Another spread on’s breast, mounting his eyes
He did discharge a horrible oath; whose tenor
Was,— were he evil used, he would outgo
His father by as much as a performance
Does an irresolute purpose.
King Henry VIII
There’s his period,
To sheathe his knife in us. He is attach’d;
Call him to present trial: if he may
Find mercy in the law, ’tis his: if none,
Let him not seek ’t of us: by day and night,
He’s traitor to the height.
Exeunt
SCENE III. AN ANTE-CHAMBER IN THE PALACE.
Enter Chamberlain and Sands
Chamberlain
Is’t possible the spells of France should juggle
Men into such strange mysteries?
Sands
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’ the 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.
Sands
They have all new legs, and lame ones: one would take it,
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 too,
That, sure, they’ve worn out Christendom.
Enter 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’m glad ’tis there: now I would pray our monsieurs
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 point 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 blister’d 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.
Sands
’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.
Sands
The devil fiddle ’em! I am glad they are going,
For, sure, there’s no converting of ’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 Sands;
Your colt’s tooth is not cast yet.
Sands
No, my lord;
Nor shall not, while I have a stump.
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 every where.
Chamberlain
No doubt he’s noble;
He had a black mouth that said other of him.
Sands
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.
Sands
I am your lordship’s.
Exeunt
SCENE IV. A HALL IN YORK PLACE.
Hautboys. A small table under a state for Cardinal Wolsey, a longer table for the guests. Then enter Anne and divers other Ladies and Gentlemen as guests, at one door; at another door, enter 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. O, my lord, you’re tardy:
Enter Chamberlain, Sands, and Lovell
The very thought of this fair company
Clapp’d wings to me.
Chamberlain
You are young, Sir Harry Guildford.
Sands
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!
Sands
I would I were;
They should find easy penance.
Lovell
Faith, how easy?
Sands
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 entering. Nay, you must not freeze;
Two women placed together makes cold weather:
My Lord Sands, you are one will keep ’em waking;
Pray, sit between these ladies.
Sands
By 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.
Anne
Was he mad, sir?
Sands
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.
Kisses her
Chamberlain
Well said, my lord.
So, now you’re fairly seated. Gentlemen,
The penance lies on you, if these fair ladies
Pass away frowning.
Sands
For my little cure,
Let me alone.
Hautboys. Enter Cardinal Wolsey, and takes his state
Cardinal Wolsey
You’re 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
Sands
Your grace is noble:
Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks,
And save me so much talking.
Cardinal Wolsey
My Lord Sands,
I am beholding to you: cheer your neighbours.
Ladies, you are not merry: gentlemen,
Whose fault is this?
Sands
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 Sands.
Sands
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.
Sands
I told your grace they would talk anon.
Drum and trumpet, chambers discharged
Cardinal Wolsey
What’s that?
Chamberlain
Look out there, some of ye.
Exit Servant
Cardinal Wolsey
What warlike voice,
And to what end is this? Nay, ladies, fear not;
By all the laws of war you’re privileged.
Re-enter Servant
Chamberlain
How now! what is’t?
Servant
A noble troop of strangers;
For so they seem: they’ve left their barge and landed;
And hither make, as great ambassadors
From foreign princes.
Cardinal 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 tables removed
You have now a broken banquet; but we’ll mend it.
A good digestion to you all: and once more
I shower a welcome on ye; welcome all.
Hautboys. Enter King Henry VIII and others, as masquers, habited like shepherds, ushered by the Chamberlain. They pass directly before Cardinal Wolsey, 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.
Cardinal 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 for the dance. King Henry VIII chooses Anne
King Henry VIII
The fairest hand I ever touch’d! O beauty,
Till now I never knew thee!
Music. Dance
Cardinal Wolsey
My lord!
Chamberlain
Your grace?
Cardinal 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.
Whispers the Masquers
Cardinal 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.
Cardinal Wolsey
Let me see, then.
By all your good leaves, gentlemen; here I’ll make
My royal choice.
King Henry VIII
Ye 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.
Cardinal Wolsey
I am glad
Your grace is grown so pleasant.
King Henry VIII
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 Henry VIII
By heaven, she is a dainty one. Sweetheart,
I were unmannerly, to take you out,
And not to kiss you. A health, gentlemen!
Let it go round.
Cardinal Wolsey
Sir Thomas Lovell, is the banquet ready
I’ the privy chamber?
Lovell
Yes, my lord.
Cardinal Wolsey
Your grace,
I fear, with dancing is a little heated.
King Henry VIII
I fear, too much.
Cardinal Wolsey
There’s fresher air, my lord,
In the next chamber.
King Henry VIII
Lead 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 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 I. WESTMINSTER. A STREET.
Enter two Gentlemen, meeting
First Gentleman
Whither away so fast?
Second Gentleman
O, God save ye!
Even 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.
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