Complete Plays, The

by William Shakespeare

  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.