Imatges de pÓgina


King Henry VIII.

Cardinal Wolsey. Cardinal Campeius.
Capucius, Ambassador from the Emperor Charles V.
Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury.

Duke of Norfolk. Duke of Buckingham.

Duke of Suffolk. Earl of Surry.

Lord Chamberlain. Lord Chancellor.

Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester.

Bishop of Lincoln. Lord Abergavenny. Lord Sands.
Sir Henry Guildford. Sir Thomas Lovell.

Sir Anthony Denny. Sir Nicholas Vaux.
Secretaries to Wolsey.

Cromwell, Servant to Wolsey.

Griffith, Gentleman Usher to Queen Katharine.
Three other Gentlemen.

Doctor Butts, Physician to the King.

Garter, King at Arms.

Surveyor to the Duke of Buckingham.

Brandon, and a Sergeant at Arms.

Door-keeper of the Council-chamber. Porter, and his


Page to Gardiner. A Crier.

Queen Katharine, Wife to King Henry; afterwards divorced.

Anne Bullen, her Maid of Honour; afterwards Queen.
An old Lady, Friend to Anne Bullen.
Patience, Woman to Queen Katharine.

Several Lords and Ladies in the dumb Shows; Women attending upon the Queen; Spirits, which appear to her; Scribes, Officers, Guards, and other Attendants.

SCENE, chiefly in London and Westminster; once at Kimbolton.


I COME no more to make you laugh; things now,
That bear a weighty and a serious brow,
Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe,
Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow,
We now present. Those that can pity, here
May, if they think it well, let fall a tear;
The subject will deserve it. Such, as give
Their money out of hope they may believe,
May here find truth too. Those, that come to see
Only a show or two, and so agree,

'The play may pass; if they be still, and willing,
I'll undertake, may see away their shilling
Richly in two short hours. Only they,
That come to hear a merry, bawdy play,
A noise of targets; or to see a fellow
In a long motley coat, guarded with yellow,
Will be deceiv'd: for, gentle hearers, know,
To rank our chosen truth with such a show
As fool and fight is, beside forfeiting

Our own brains, and the opinion that we bring
(To make that only true we now intend),
Will leave us never an understanding friend.

Therefore, for goodness' sake, and as you are known
The first and happiest hearers of the town,
Be sad, as we would make ye: Think, ye see
The very persons of our noble story,

As they were living; think, you see them great,
And follow'd with the general throng, and sweat,
Of thousand friends; then, in a moment, see
How soon this mightiness meets misery!
And, you can be merry then, I'll say,
A man may weep upon his wedding-day.


SCENE I. LONDON. An Antechamber in the Palace. Enter the DUKE of NORFOLK, at one Door; at the other, the DUKE of BUCKINGHAM, and the LORD ABERGAVENNY.


morrow, and well met. How have

GOOD you done,

Since last we saw in France?


I thank your grace:

Healthful; and ever since a fresh admirer
Of what I saw there.


An untimely ague

Stay'd me a prisoner in my chamber, when
Those suns of glory, those two lights of men,
Met in the vale of Arde.

"Twixt Guynes and Arde:

I was then present, saw them salute on horseback;
Beheld them, when they lighted, how they clung
In their embracement, as they grew together;

Which had they, what four thron'd ones could have


Such a compounded one?

I was my chamber's prisoner.

All the whole time

Then you lost The view of earthly glory: Men might say, Till this time, pomp was single; but now married To one above itself. Each following day Became the next day's master, till the last Made former wonders it's: To-day, the French, All clinquant, all in gold, like heathen gods, Shone down the English; and, to-morrow, they Made Britain, India: every man, that stood, Show'd like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were As cherubins, all gilt: the madams too, Not us'd to toil, did almost sweat to bear The pride upon them, that their very labour Was to them as a painting: now this mask Was cried incomparable; and the ensuing night Made it a fool, and beggar. The two kings, Equal in lustre, were now best, now worst, As presence did present them: him in eye, Still him in praise: and being present both, "Twas said, they saw but one; and no discerner Durst wag his tongue in censure. When these suns (For so they phrase them), by their heralds challeng'd The noble spirits to arms, they did perform

Beyond thought's compass; that former fabulous story, Being now seen possible enough, got credit,

That Bevis was believ'd.


O, you go far. Nor. As I belong to worship, and affect In honour honesty, the tract of every thing Would by a good discourser lose some life, Which action's self was tongue to. All was royal; To the disposing of it nought rebell'd, Order gave each thing view; the office did Distinctly his full function. Who did guide,


mean, who set the body and the limbs
Of this great sport together, as you guess?
Nor. One, certes, that promises no element
In such a business.

I pray you, who, my lord?
Nor. All this was order'd by the good discretion
Of the right reverend cardinal of York.

Buck. The devil speed him! no man's pie is free'd From his ambitious finger. What had he To do in these fierce vanities? I wonder, That such a keech can with his very bulk Take up the rays o'the beneficial sun, And keep it from the earth.

Surely, sir,

There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends:
For, being not propp'd by ancestry (whose grace
Chalks successors their way), nor call'd upon
For high feats done to the crown; neither allied
To eminent assistants, but, spider-like,
Out of his self-drawing web, he gives us note,
The force of his own merit makes his way;
A gift that heaven gives for him, which buys
A place next to the king.


I cannot tell

What heaven hath given him, let some graver eye
Pierce into that; but I can see his pride

Peep through each part of him: Whence has he that?
If not from hell, the devil is a niggard;

Or has given all before, and he begins

A new hell in himself.


Why the devil,

Upon this French going-out, took he upon him,
Without the privity o'the king, to appoint
Who should attend on him? He makes up the file
Of all the gentry; for the most part such
Too, 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.


I do know

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