SECOND GENTLEMAN But pray, how passed 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 allegèd
Many sharp reasons to defeat the law.
The King’s attorney, on the contrary,
Urged on the examinations, proofs, confessions,
Of divers witnesses, which the Duke desired
To him brought viva voce to his face—
At which appeared against him his surveyor,
Sir Gilbert Perk 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 accused 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 himself?
FIRST GENTLEMAN
When he was brought again to th’ bar to hear
His knell rung out, his judgement, he was stirred
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 showed 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, removed,
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 Card’nal 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 the Duke of Buckingham from his arraignment, tipstaves before him, the axe with the edge towards him, halberdiers on each side, accompanied with Sir Thomas Lovell, Sir Nicholas Vaux, Sir William Sands, and common people
FIRST GENTLEMAN
Stay there, sir,
And see the noble ruined man you speak of.
SECOND GENTLEMAN
Let’s stand close and behold him.
They stand apart
BUCKINGHAM (to the common people) 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 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,
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 loved 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. (To the guard) Lead on, i’
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 beloved 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’ waterside I must conduct your grace,
Then give my charge up to Sir Nicholas Vaux,
Who undertakes you to your end.
VAUX (to an attendant) 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 for’t.
My noble father, Henry of Buckingham,
Who first raised head against usurping Richard,
Flying for succour to his servant Banister,
Being distressed, was by that wretch betrayed,
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,
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 loved 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
B
ut 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 and train
The two Gentlemen come forward
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 separation
Between the King and Katherine?
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, possessed him with a scruple
That will undo her. To confirm this, too,
Cardinal Campeius is arrived, 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 purposed.
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
2.2 Enter the Lord Chamberlain with a letter
LORD CHAMBERLAIN (reads) ‘My lord, the horses your lordship sent for, with all the care I had, I saw well chosen, ridden, and furnished. 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 served before a subject, if not before the King; which stopped our mouths, sir.’
I fear he will indeed. Well, let him have them. 10
He will have all, I think.
Enter to the Lord Chamberlain the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk
NORFOLK Well met, my Lord Chamberlain.
LORD CHAMBERLAIN Good day to both your graces.
SUFFOLK
How is the King employed?
LORD CHAMBERLAIN
I left him private,
Full of sad thoughts and troubles.
NORFOLK
What’s the cause?
LORD 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 cracked the
league
Between us and the Emperor, the Queen’s greatnephew,
25
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?
LORD 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 all
From princes into pages. All men’s honours
Lie like one lump before him, to be fashioned
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; they’re 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.
(To the Lord Chamberlain)
My lord, you’ll bear us company?
LORD 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 the Lord Chamberlain
King Henry draws the curtain, and sits reading pensively
SUFFOLK
How sad he looks! Sure he is much afflicted.
KING HENRY
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 HENRY
Ye are too bold.
Go to, I’ll make ye know your times of business.
Is this an hour for temporal affairs? Ha?
Enter Cardinal Wolsey and Cardinal Campeius, the latter 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 ki
ng.
(To Campeius)
You’re welcome,
Most learnèd reverend sir, into our kingdom.
Use us, and it. (To Wolsey) My good lord, have great
care
I be not found a talker.
CARDINAL WOLSEY
Sir, you cannot.
I would your grace would give us but an hour
Of private conference.
KING HENRY (to Norfolk and Suffolk) We are busy; go.
Norfolk and Suffolk speak privately to one another as they depart
NORFOLK
This priest has no pride in him!
SUFFOLK
Not to speak of.
I would not be so sick, though, for his place—
But this cannot continue.
NORFOLK
If it do
I’ll venture one have-at-him.
SUFFOLK
I another.
Exeunt Norfolk and Suffolk
CARDINAL WOLSEY (to the King)
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 cterks—
I mean the learnèd ones in Christian kingdoms—
Have their free voices. Rome, the nurse of judgement,
Invited by your noble self, hath sent
One general tongue unto us: this good man,
This just and learned priest, Card’nal Campeius,
Whom once more I present unto your highness.
KING HENRY (embracing Campeius)
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 wished for.
CARDINAL CAMPEIUS
Your grace must needs deserve all strangers’ loves,
You are so noble. To your highness’ hand
I tender my commission,He gives the commission to the King
(To Wolsey)
by whose virtue,
The Court of Rome commanding, you, my lord
Cardinal of York, are joined with me their servant
In the unpartial judging of this business.
KING HENRY
Two equal men. The Queen shall be acquainted
Forthwith for what you come. Where’s Gardiner?
CARDINAL WOLSEY
I know your majesty has always loved her
So dear in heart not to deny her that
A woman of less place might ask by law—
Scholars allowed freely to argue for her.
KING HENRY
The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works Page 403
