The Complete Works of William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare (moboreader .TXT) 📕

BUCKINGHAM. Why the devil,

Upon this French going out, took he upon him-Without the privity o’ th’ King-t’ appoint Who should attend on him? He makes up the file Of all the gentry; for the most part such To whom as great a charge as little honour He meant to lay upon; and his own letter, The honourable board of council out,

Must fetch him in he papers.

ABERGAVENNY. I do know

Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that have By this so sicken’d their estates that never They shall abound as formerly.

BUCKINGHAM. O, many

Have broke their backs with laying manors on ‘em For this great journey. What did this vanity But minister communication of

A most poor issue?

NORFOLK. Grievingly I think

The peace between the French and us not values The cost that did conclude it.

BUCKINGHAM. Every man,

After the hideous storm that follow’d, was A thing inspir’d, and, not consulting, broke Into a general prophecy-that this tempest, Dashing the garment of this peace, aboded The sudden breach on’t.

NORFOLK. Which is budded out;

For France hath flaw’d the league, and hath attach’d Our merchants’ goods at Bordeaux.

ABERGAVENNY. Is it therefore

Th’ ambassador is silenc’d?

NORFOLK. Marry, is’t.

ABERGAVENNY. A proper tide of a peace, and purchas’d At a superfluous rate!

BUCKINGHAM. Why, all this business

Our reverend Cardinal carried.

NORFOLK. Like it your Grace,

The state takes notice of the private difference Betwixt you and the Cardinal. I advise you-And take it from a heart that wishes towards you Honour and plenteous safety-that you read The Cardinal’s malice and his potency Together; to consider further, that

What his high hatred would effect wants not A minister in his power. You know his nature, That he’s revengeful; and I know his sword Hath a sharp edge-it’s long and’t may be said It reaches far, and where ‘twill not extend, Thither he darts it. Bosom up my counsel You’ll find it wholesome. Lo, where comes that rock That I advise your shunning.

Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, the purse borne before him, certain of the guard, and two SECRETARIES

with papers. The CARDINAL in his passage fixeth his eye on BUCKINGHAM, and BUCKINGHAM on him, both full of disdain

WOLSEY. The Duke of Buckingham’s surveyor? Ha!

Where’s his examination?

SECRETARY. Here, so please you.

WOLSEY. Is he in person ready?

SECRETARY. Ay, please your Grace.

WOLSEY. Well, we shall then know more, and Buckingham shall lessen this big look.

Exeunt WOLSEY and his train BUCKINGHAM. This butcher’s cur is venom-mouth’d, and I Have not the power to muzzle him; therefore best Not wake him in his slumber. A beggar’s book Outworths a noble’s blood.

NORFOLK. What, are you chaf’d?

Ask God for temp’rance; that’s th’ appliance only Which your disease requires.

BUCKINGHAM. I read in’s looks

Matter against me, and his eye revil’d Me as his abject object. At this instant He bores me with some trick. He’s gone to th’ King; I’ll follow, and outstare him.

NORFOLK. Stay, my lord,

And let your reason with your choler question What ‘tis you go about. To climb steep hills Requires slow pace at first. Anger is like A full hot horse, who being allow’d his way, Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England Can advise me like you; be to yourself As you would to your friend.

BUCKINGHAM. I’ll to the King,

And from a mouth of honour quite cry down This Ipswich fellow’s insolence; or proclaim There’s difference in no persons.

NORFOLK. Be advis’d:

Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot That it do singe yourself. We may outrun By violent swiftness that which we run at, And lose by over-running. Know you not The fire that mounts the liquor till’t run o’er In seeming to augment it wastes it? Be advis’d.

I say again there is no English soul

More stronger to direct you than yourself, If with the sap of reason you would quench Or but allay the fire of passion.

BUCKINGHAM. Sir,

I am thankful to you, and I’ll go along By your prescription; but this top-proud fellow-Whom from the flow of gan I name not, but From sincere motions, by intelligence, And proofs as clear as founts in July when We see each grain of gravel-I do know To be corrupt and treasonous.

NORFOLK. Say not treasonous.

BUCKINGHAM. To th’ King I’ll say’t, and make my vouch as strong As shore of rock. Attend: this holy fox, Or wolf, or both-for he is equal rav’nous As he is subtle, and as prone to mischief As able to perform’t, his mind and place Infecting one another, yea, reciprocally-Only to show his pomp as well in France As here at home, suggests the King our master To this last costly treaty, th’ interview That swallowed so much treasure and like a glass Did break i’ th’ wrenching.

NORFOLK. Faith, and so it did.

BUCKINGHAM. Pray, give me favour, sir; this cunning cardinal The articles o’ th’ combination drew

As himself pleas’d; and they were ratified As he cried ‘Thus let be’ to as much end As give a crutch to th’ dead. But our Count-Cardinal Has done this, and ‘tis well; for worthy Wolsey, Who cannot err, he did it. Now this follows, Which, as I take it, is a kind of puppy To th’ old dam treason: Charles the Emperor, Under pretence to see the Queen his aunt-For ‘twas indeed his colour, but he came To whisper Wolsey-here makes visitation-His fears were that the interview betwixt England and France might through their amity Breed him some prejudice; for from this league Peep’d harms that menac’d him-privily Deals with our Cardinal; and, as I trow-Which I do well, for I am sure the Emperor Paid ere he promis’d; whereby his suit was granted Ere it was ask’d-but when the way was made, And pav’d with gold, the Emperor thus desir’d, That he would please to alter the King’s course, And break the foresaid peace. Let the King know, As soon he shall by me, that thus the Cardinal Does buy and sell his honour as he pleases, And for his own advantage.

NORFOLK. I am sorry

To hear this of him, and could wish he were Something mistaken in’t.

BUCKINGHAM. No, not a syllable:

I do pronounce him in that very shape He shall appear in proof.

Enter BRANDON, a SERGEANT-AT-ARMS before him, and two or three of the guard BRANDON. Your office, sergeant: execute it.

SERGEANT. Sir,

My lord the Duke of Buckingham, and Earl Of Hereford, Stafford, and Northampton, I Arrest thee of high treason, in the name Of our most sovereign King.

BUCKINGHAM. Lo you, my lord,

The net has fall’n upon me! I shall perish Under device and practice.

BRANDON. I am sorry

To see you ta’en from liberty, to look on The business present; ‘tis his Highness’ pleasure You shall to th’ Tower.

BUCKINGHAM. It will help nothing

To plead mine innocence; for that dye is on me Which makes my whit’st part black. The will of heav’n Be done in this and all things! I obey.

O my Lord Aberga’ny, fare you well!

BRANDON. Nay, he must bear you company.

[To ABERGAVENNY] The King

Is pleas’d you shall to th’ Tower, till you know How he determines further.

ABERGAVENNY. As the Duke said,

The will of heaven be done, and the King’s pleasure By me obey’d.

BRANDON. Here is warrant from

The King t’ attach Lord Montacute and the bodies Of the Duke’s confessor, John de la Car, One Gilbert Peck, his chancellor-BUCKINGHAM. So, so!

These are the limbs o’ th’ plot; no more, I hope.

BRANDON. A monk o’ th’ Chartreux.

BUCKINGHAM. O, Nicholas Hopkins?

BRANDON. He.

BUCKINGHAM. My surveyor is false. The o’er-great Cardinal Hath show’d him gold; my life is spann’d already.

I am the shadow of poor Buckingham,

Whose figure even this instant cloud puts on By dark’ning my clear sun. My lord, farewell.

Exeunt

ACT I. SCENE 2.

London. The Council Chamber

Cornets. Enter KING HENRY, leaning on the CARDINAL’S shoulder, the NOBLES, and SIR THOMAS LOVELL, with others. The CARDINAL places himself under the KING’S feet on his right side

KING. My life itself, and the best heart of it, Thanks you for this great care; I stood i’ th’ level Of a full-charg’d confederacy, and give thanks To you that chok’d it. Let be call’d before us That gentleman of Buckingham’s. In person I’ll hear his confessions justify;

And point by point the treasons of his master He shall again relate.

A noise within, crying ‘Room for the Queen!’

Enter the QUEEN, usher’d by the DUKES OF NORFOLK

and SUFFOLK; she kneels. The KING riseth from his state, takes her up, kisses and placeth her by him

QUEEN KATHARINE. Nay, we must longer kneel: I am suitor.

KING. Arise, and take place by us. Half your suit Never name to us: you have half our power.

The other moiety ere you ask is given; Repeat your will, and take it.

QUEEN KATHARINE. Thank your Majesty.

That you would love yourself, and in that love Not unconsidered leave your honour nor The dignity of your office, is the point Of my petition.

KING. Lady mine, proceed.

QUEEN KATHARINE. I am solicited, not by a few, And those of true condition, that your subjects Are in great grievance: there have been commissions Sent down among ‘em which hath flaw’d the heart Of all their loyalties; wherein, although, My good Lord Cardinal, they vent reproaches Most bitterly on you as putter-on

Of these exactions, yet the King our master-Whose honour Heaven shield from soil!-even he escapes not Language unmannerly; yea, such which breaks The sides of loyalty, and almost appears In loud rebellion.

NORFOLK. Not almost appears—

It doth appear; for, upon these taxations, The clothiers all, not able to maintain The many to them ‘longing, have put of The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers, who Unfit for other life, compell’d by hunger And lack of other means, in desperate manner Daring th’ event to th’ teeth, are all in uproar, And danger serves among them.

KING. Taxation!

Wherein? and what taxation? My Lord Cardinal, You that are blam’d for it alike with us, Know you of this taxation?

WOLSEY. Please you, sir,

I know but of a single part in aught

Pertains to th’ state, and front but in that file Where others tell steps with me.

QUEEN KATHARINE. No, my lord!

You know no more than others! But you frame Things that are known alike, which are not wholesome To those which would not know them, and yet must Perforce be their acquaintance. These exactions, Whereof my sovereign would have note, they are Most pestilent to th’ hearing; and to bear ‘em The back is sacrifice to th’ load. They say They are devis’d by you, or else you suffer Too hard an exclamation.

KING. Still exaction!

The nature of it? In what kind, let’s know, Is this exaction?

QUEEN KATHARINE. I am much too venturous In tempting of your patience, but am bold’ned Under your promis’d pardon. The subjects’ grief Comes through commissions, which compels from each The sixth part of his substance, to be levied Without delay; and the pretence for this Is nam’d your wars in France. This makes bold mouths; Tongues spit their duties out, and cold hearts freeze Allegiance in them; their curses now

Live where their prayers did; and it’s come to pass This tractable obedience is a slave

To each incensed will. I would your Highness Would give it quick consideration, for There is no primer business.

KING. By my life,

This is against our pleasure.

WOLSEY. And for me,

I have no further gone in this than by A single voice; and that not pass’d me but By learned approbation of the judges. If I am Traduc’d by ignorant tongues, which