Bran. He. Buck. My surveyor is false; the o'er-great cardinal Hath shew'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, farewel. SCENE II. [Exeunt. The Council-Chamber. Cornet. Enter King HENRY, leaning on the Cardinal's Shoulder; the Nobles, and Sir THOMAS LOVEL. 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' the level Of a full-charg'd confederacy; and give thanks 270 To you that chok'd it.-Let be call'd before us That gentleman of Buckingham's: in person I'll hear him 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, ushered 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. Nay, we must longer kneel; I am a suitor. King. Arise, and take your place by us:-Half your suit Never name to us; you have half our power: Repeat your will, and take it. 280 Queen. Thank your majesty. That you would love yourself; and, in that love, Not unconsider'd leave your honour, nor The dignity of your office, is the point Of my petition. King. Lady mine, proceed. Queen. I am solicited, not by a few, And those of true condition, that your subjects Are in great grievance: There have been commis sions 289 Sent down among them, which have flaw'd the heart Of all their loyalties:-wherein, although, [TO WOLSEY. My good lord cardinal, they vent reproaches (Whose honour heaven shield from soil!) even he escapes not Language unmannerly, yea, such which breaks The sides of loyalty, and almost appears Nor. Not almost appears, 300 The many to them 'longing, have put off The The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers, who, And Danger serves among them. King. Taxation! Wherein? and what taxation?-My lord cardinal, Know you of this taxation? Wol. Please you, sir, I know but of a single part, in aught Pertains to the state; and front but in that file Queen. No, my lord, 310 You know no more than others: but you frame Things, that are known alike; which are not whole some To those which would not know them, and yet must King. Still exaćtion ! The nature of it? In what kind, let's know, Queen. I am much too venturous In tempting of your patience; but am bolden'd 330 Under your promis'd pardon. The subject's grief Comes, through commissions, which compel from each The sixth part of his substance, to be levy'd 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, That tractable obedience is a slave To each incensed will. I would, your highness I have no further gone in this, than by A single voice; and that not past me, but By learned approbation of the judges. If I am Traduc'd by ignorant tongues-which neither know My faculties, nor person, yet will be The chronicles of my doing-let me say, 'Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brake To cope malicious censurers; which ever, 350 Not Not ours, or not allow'd; what worst, as oft, In fear our motion will be mock'd or carp'd at, King. Things done well, 360 370 And with a care, exempt themselves from fear; Wol. A word with you. 280 [To the Secretary.. Let there be letters writ to every shire, Of the king's grace and pardon. The griev'd 'com mons Hardly conceive of me; let it be nois'd, That, through our intercession, this revokement Further in the proceeding. Ciij [Exit Secretary. Enter |