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'Like it your grace,
The state takes notice of the private difference
Together: to consider further, that
What his high hatred would effect, wants not
Thither he darts it.
Bosom up my counsel,
You'll find it wholesome. Lo, where comes that
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.
Wol. The duke of Buckingham's surveyor, ha? Where's his examination?
Here, so please you.
Wol. Is he in person ready?
Ay, please your grace.
Wol. Well, we shall then know more; and Buck
Shall lessen this big look.
[Exeunt Wolsey, and train.
Buck. This butcher's cur* is venom-mouth'd,
Have not the power to muzzle him; therefore, best Not wake him in his slumber. A beggar's book Out-worths a nobie's blood.
What, are you
* Wolsey was the son of a butcher.
Ask God for temperance; that's the appliance only, Which your disease requires.
I read in his looks
Matter against me; and his eye revil'd
Me, as his abject objeet: at this instant
He bores me with some trick: He's gone to the king;
As you would to your friend.
I'll to the king;
And from a mouth of honour quite cry down
More stronger to direct you than yourself;
I am thankful to you; and I'll go along
By your prescription:-but this top proud fellow, (Whom from the flow of gall I name not, but
From sincere motions), by intelligence,
And proofs as clear as founts in July, when
Say not, treasonous. Buck. To the king I'll say't; and make my vouch
As shore of rock. Attend. This holy fox,
That swallow'd so much treasure, and like a glass
'Faith, and so it did.
Buck. Pray, give me favour, sir. This cunning cardinal
The articles o'the 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 the dead: But our count-cardinal
To the old dam, treason),-Charles the emperor,
(As soon he shall by me), that thus the cardinal
I am sorry
To hear this of him; and could wish, he were
No, not a syllable;
I do pronounce him in that very shape,
Enter Brandon; a Serjeant at Arms before him, and two or three of the guards.
Bran. Your office, serjeant; execute it.
Lo you, my lord,
The net has fall'n upon me; I shall perish
I am sorry
To see you ta'en from liberty, to look on
The business present: 'Tis his highness' pleasure
It will help me nothing,
To plead mine innocence; for that die is on me, Which makes my whitest part black. The will of
Be done in this and all things!-I obey.
O my lord Aberga'ny, fare you well.
Bran. Nay, he must bear you company:-The [To Abergavenny. Is pleas'd, you shall to the Tower, till you know How he determines further.
As the duke said,
The will of heaven be done, and the king's pleasure By me obey'd.
Here is a warrant from
The king, to attach lord Montacute; and the bodies
Tirese are the limbs of the plot: no more, I hope. Bran. A monk o' the Chartreux.
O, Nicholas Hopkins?
Buck. My surveyor is false; the o'er-great car
Hath show'd him gold: my life is spann'd already:
Whose figure even this instant cloud puts on,
Cornets. Enter King Henry, Cardinal Wolsey, the Lords of the Council, Sir Thomas Lovell, Officers, and Assistants. The King enters, leaning on the Cardinal's shoulder.
K. Hen. My life itself, and the best heart of it,
And point by point the treasons of his master