Good my lord Cardinal: I have a dozen healths
To drink to these fair ladies, and a measure
To lead them once again, and then let's dream
Who's best in favour. Let the mufick knock it,
Enter two Gentlemen at several Doors.
HITHER away fo faft?
2 Gen. O Sir, God fave ye:
Ev'n to the hall, to hear what fhall be
Of the great Duke of Buckingham.
1 Gen, I'll fave you
That labour, Sir. All's now done, but
the ceremony
Of bringing back the pris❜ner.
2 Gen. Were you there? 1 Gen. Yes indeed was I.
2 Gen. Pray speak what has happen'd? 1 Gen. You may guefs quickly what.
2 Gen. Is he found guilty?
1 Gen. Yes, truly is he, and condemn'd upon't. 2 Gen. I'm forry for't.
I Gen. So are a number more.
2 Gen. But pray how past it?
1 Gen. I'll tell you in a little. The great Duke Came to the Bar; where, to his Accufations
He pleaded ftill not guilty, and alledg'd
Many fharp reafons to defeat the law.
The King's Attorney, on the contrary,
Urg'd on examinations, proofs, confeffions
Of divers witneffes, which the Duke desir'd
To have brought viva voice to his Face;
At which appear'd against him, his furveyor,
Sir Gilbert Pecke his chancellor, and John Car
Confeffor to him, with that devil monk
Hopkins, that made this mifchief,
2 Gen. That was he
That fed him with his prophecies.
1 Gen. The fame.
All these accus'd him ftrongly, which he fain
Would have flung from him; but indeed he could not:
And fo his peers upon this evidence
Have found him guilty of high treafon. Much
He fpoke, and learnedly for life; but all
Was either pitied in him, or forgotten.
2 Gen. After all this, how did he bear himself? Gen. When he was brought again to th' bar, te
His knell rung out, his judgment, he was stirr'd
With fuch an agony, he fweat extremely,
And fomething poke in choler, ill and hafty;
But he fell to himself again, and sweetly
In all the reft fhew'd a moft noble patience.
2 Gen. I do not think he fears death.
1 Gen. Sure he does not,
He never was fo womanish; the cause
He may a little grieve at.
2 Gen. Certainly,
The Cardinal is the end of this.
1 Gen. 'Tis likely,
By all conjectures: firft Kildare's attainder,
Then deputy of Ireland; who remov'd,
Earl Surrey was fent thither, and in hafte too,
Left he fhould help his father.
2 Gen. That trick of state
Was a deep envious one.
1 Gen. At his return,
No doubt he will requite it; this is noted,
And gen'rally, who-ever the King favours,
The Cardinal inftantly will find employment for,
And far enough from court too.
2 Gen. All the commons
Hate him perniciously, and o' my confcience
Wifh him ten fathom deep: this Duke as much
They love and doat on, call him bounteous Buckingham,
The Mirror of all courtefie
Enter Buckingham from his Arraignment. Tipftaves before him, the Axe with the edge towards him. Halberds on each fide, accompanied with Sir Thomas Lovel, Sir Nicholas Vaux, Walter Sands, and common People, &c.
1 Gen. Stay there, Sir,
And fee the noble ruin'd Man you fpeak of.
2 Gen. Let's ftand close and behold him.
Buck. All good People,
You that thus far have come to pity me,
Hear what I fay, and then go home and lofe me:
I have this day receiv'd a traitor's judgment,
And by that name muft die; yet heav'n bear witness,
And if I have a confcience let it fink me
Even as the axe falls, if I be not faithful.
To th' law I bear no malice for my death,
T has done, upon the Premifes, but Juftice:
But thofe that fought it, I could with more chriftians
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 guiltlefs blood muft cry against 'em.
For further life in this world I ne'er hope,
Nor will I fue, although the King have mercies
More than I dare make faults. You few that loy'd 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 fweet facrifice,
And lift my foul to heav'n. Lead on a God's name.
Lov. I do befeech your Grace for charity,
If ever any malice in your heart
Were hid against me, now forgive me frankly.
Buck. Sir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive you
As I would be forgiven: I forgive all.
There cannot be thofe numberlefs offences
'Gainst me, I can't take peace with: no black envy
Shall make my grave- Commend me to his Grace:
And if he fpeak of Buckingham, pray tell him,
You met him half in heav'n: my vows and pray'rs
Yet are the King's; and 'till my foul forfake me,
Shall cry for bleffings on him. May he live
Longer than I have time to tell his years;
Ever belov'd and loving may his rule be;
And when old time fhall lead him to his end,
Goodness and he fill up one monument.
Lov. To th' water-fide I muft conduct your Grace,
Then give my charge up to Sir Nicholas Vaux,
Who undertakes you to your end.
The Duke is coming: fee the barge be ready,
And fit it with fuch furniture as fuits
The greatnefs of his perfon.
Buck. Nay, Sir Nicholas,
Let it alone; my ftate now will but mock me,
When I came hither, I was Lord high conftable,
And Duke of Buckingham; now, poor Edward Bohun
Yet I am richer than my bafe accufers,
That never knew what truth meant; I now feal it;
And with that blood will make 'em one day groan før't,
My noble father, Henry of Buckingham,
Who firft rais'd head against ufurping Richard,
Flying for fuccour to his fervant Banister,
Being diftrefs'd, was by that wretch betray'd,
And without tryal fell; God's peace be with him!
Henry the Sev'nth fucceeding, truly pitying
My father's lofs, like a moft royal Prince
Reftor'd to me my honours; and from ruins,
Made my name once more noble. Now his fon,"
Henry the Eight, a name, honour, life, and all
That make me happy, at one ftroak has taken
For ever from the world. I had my tryal,
And muft needs fay, a noble one; which makes me
A little happier than my wretched father:
Yet thus far we are one in fortune, both
Fell by our fervants, by thofe men we lov'd.
A moft unnatural and faithlefs fervice!
Heav'n has an end in all: yet, you that hear me,'
This from a dying man receive as certain;
Where you are lib'ral of your loves and counfels,
Be fure you be not loofe; thofe 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,
But where they mean to fink ye. All good people
Pray for me! I must leave ye; the laft hour
Of my long weary life is come upon me:
Farewel; and when you would fay fomething fad,
Speak how I fell-I've done; and God forgive me.
[Exeunt Buckingham and Train
1 Gen. O, this is full of pity; Sir, it calls,
I fear, too many curfes on their heads,
That were the authors.
2 Gen. If the Duke be guiltless,
'Tis full of woe; yet I can give you inkling Of an enfuing evil, if it fall,
1 Gen. Good angels keep it from us: What may it be; you do not doubt my faith, Sir? 2 Gen. This fecret is fo weighty, 'twill require A ftrong faith to conceal it.
1 Gen. Let me have it;
I do not talk much.
2 Gen. I am confident;
You fhall, Sir; did you not of late days hear
A buzzing of a feparation
Between the King and Kath'rine?
1 Gen. Yes, but it held not;
a life, honour, name, and all.
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