Act I, Scene ii
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| | London. The Council Chamber | |
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| | Cornets. Enter KING HENRY, leaning on the CARDINAL'S shoulder, | |
| | the NOBLES, and SIR THOMAS LOVELL, with others. The CARDINAL | |
| | places himself under the KING'S feet on his right side | |
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|  KING. My life itself, and the best heart of it, | |
| | Thanks you for this great care; I stood i' th' level | |
| | Of a full-charg'd confederacy, and give thanks | |
| | To you that chok'd it. Let be call'd before us | |
| | That gentleman of Buckingham's. In person | |
| | I'll hear his confessions justify; | |
| | And point by point the treasons of his master | |
| | He shall again relate. | |
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| | A noise within, crying 'Room for the Queen!' | |
| | Enter the QUEEN, usher'd by the DUKES OF NORFOLK | |
| | and SUFFOLK; she kneels. The KING riseth | |
| | from his state, takes her up, kisses and placeth her | |
| | by him. | |
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| | QUEEN KATHARINE. Nay, we must longer kneel: I am suitor. | |
| | KING. Arise, and take place by us. Half your suit | |
| | Never name to us: you have half our power. | |
| | The other moiety ere you ask is given; | |
| | Repeat your will, and take it. | |
| | QUEEN KATHARINE. Thank your Majesty. | |
| | That you would love yourself, and in that love | |
| | Not unconsidered leave your honour nor | |
| | The dignity of your office, is the point | |
| | Of my petition. | |
| | KING. Lady mine, proceed. | |
| | QUEEN KATHARINE. I am solicited, not by a few, | |
| | And those of true condition, that your subjects | |
| | Are in great grievance: there have been commissions | |
| | Sent down among 'em which hath flaw'd the heart | |
| | Of all their loyalties; wherein, although, | |
| | My good Lord Cardinal, they vent reproaches | |
| | Most bitterly on you as putter-on | |
| | Of these exactions, yet the King our master— | |
| | Whose honour Heaven shield from soil!—even he escapes not | |
| | Language unmannerly; yea, such which breaks | |
| | The sides of loyalty, and almost appears | |
| | In loud rebellion. | |
| | NORFOLK. Not almost appears— | |
| | It doth appear; for, upon these taxations, | |
| | The clothiers all, not able to maintain | |
| | The many to them 'longing, have put off | |
| | The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers, who | |
| | Unfit for other life, compell'd by hunger | |
| | And lack of other means, in desperate manner | |
| | Daring th' event to th' teeth, are all in uproar, | |
| | And danger serves among them. | |
| | KING. Taxation! | |
| | Wherein? and what taxation? My Lord Cardinal, | |
| | You that are blam'd for it alike with us, | |
| | Know you of this taxation? | |
| | WOLSEY. Please you, sir, | |
| | I know but of a single part in aught | |
| | Pertains to th' state, and front but in that file | |
| | Where others tell steps with me. | |
| | QUEEN KATHARINE. No, my lord! | |
| | You know no more than others! But you frame | |
| | Things that are known alike, which are not wholesome | |
| | To those which would not know them, and yet must | |
| | Perforce be their acquaintance. These exactions, | |
| | Whereof my sovereign would have note, they are | |
| | Most pestilent to th' hearing; and to bear 'em | |
| | The back is sacrifice to th' load. They say | |
| | They are devis'd by you, or else you suffer | |
| | Too hard an exclamation. | |
| | KING. Still exaction! | |
| | The nature of it? In what kind, let's know, | |
| | Is this exaction? | |
| | QUEEN KATHARINE. I am much too venturous | |
| | In tempting of your patience, but am bold'ned | |
| | Under your promis'd pardon. The subjects' grief | |
| | Comes through commissions, which compels from each | |
| | The sixth part of his substance, to be levied | |
| | Without delay; and the pretence for this | |
| | 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 | |
| | This tractable obedience is a slave | |
| | To each incensed will. I would your Highness | |
| | Would give it quick consideration, for | |
| | There is no primer business. | |
| | KING. By my life, | |
| | This is against our pleasure. | |
| | WOLSEY. And for me, | |
| | I have no further gone in this than by | |
| | A single voice; and that not pass'd 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 | |
| | That virtue must go through. We must not stint | |
| | Our necessary actions in the fear | |
| | To cope malicious censurers, which ever | |
| | As rav'nous fishes do a vessel follow | |
| | That is new-trimm'd, but benefit no further | |
| | Than vainly longing. What we oft do best, | |
| | By sick interpreters, once weak ones, is | |
| | Not ours, or not allow'd; what worst, as oft | |
| | Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up | |
| | For our best act. If we shall stand still, | |
| | In fear our motion will be mock'd or carp'd at, | |
| | We should take root here where we sit, or sit | |
| | State-statues only. | |
| | KING. Things done well | |
| | And with a care exempt themselves from fear: | |
| | Things done without example, in their issue | |
| | Are to be fear'd. Have you a precedent | |
| | Of this commission? I believe, not any. | |
| | We must not rend our subjects from our laws, | |
| | And stick them in our will. Sixth part of each? | |
| | A trembling contribution! Why, we take | |
| | From every tree lop, bark, and part o' th' timber; | |
| | And though we leave it with a root, thus hack'd, | |
| | The air will drink the sap. To every county | |
| | Where this is question'd send our letters with | |
| | Free pardon to each man that has denied | |
| | The force of this commission. Pray, look to't; | |
| | I put it to your care. | |
| | WOLSEY.[Aside to the SECRETARY]A word with you. | |
| | Let there be letters writ to every shire | |
| | Of the King's grace and pardon. The grieved commons | |
| | Hardly conceive of me—let it be nois'd | |
| | That through our intercession this revokement | |
| | And pardon comes. I shall anon advise you | |
| | Further in the proceeding. | |
| | Exit SECRETARY | |
| | Enter SURVEYOR | |
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| | QUEEN KATHARINE. I am sorry that the Duke of Buckingham | |
| | Is run in your displeasure. | |
| | KING. It grieves many. | |
| | The gentleman is learn'd and a most rare speaker; | |
| | To nature none more bound; his training such | |
| | That he may furnish and instruct great teachers | |
| | And never seek for aid out of himself. Yet see, | |
| | When these so noble benefits shall prove | |
| | Not well dispos'd, the mind growing once corrupt, | |
| | They turn to vicious forms, ten times more ugly | |
| | Than ever they were fair. This man so complete, | |
| | Who was enroll'd 'mongst wonders, and when we, | |
| | Almost with ravish'd list'ning, could not find | |
| | His hour of speech a minute—he, my lady, | |
| | Hath into monstrous habits put the graces | |
| | That once were his, and is become as black | |
| | As if besmear'd in hell. Sit by us; you shall hear— | |
| | This was his gentleman in trust—of him | |
| | Things to strike honour sad. Bid him recount | |
| | The fore-recited practices, whereof | |
| | We cannot feel too little, hear too much. | |
| | WOLSEY. Stand forth, and with bold spirit relate what you, | |
| | Most like a careful subject, have collected | |
| | Out of the Duke of Buckingham. | |
| | KING. Speak freely. | |
| | SURVEYOR. First, it was usual with him—every day | |
| | It would infect his speech—that if the King | |
| | Should without issue die, he'll carry it so | |
| | To make the sceptre his. These very words | |
| | I've heard him utter to his son-in-law, | |
| | Lord Aberga'ny, to whom by oath he menac'd | |
| | Revenge upon the Cardinal. | |
| | WOLSEY. Please your Highness, note | |
| | This dangerous conception in this point: | |
| | Not friended by his wish, to your high person | |
| | His will is most malignant, and it stretches | |
| | Beyond you to your friends. | |
| | QUEEN KATHARINE. My learn'd Lord Cardinal, | |
| | Deliver all with charity. | |
| | KING. Speak on. | |
| | How grounded he his title to the crown | |
| | Upon our fail? To this point hast thou heard him | |
| | At any time speak aught? | |
| | SURVEYOR. He was brought to this | |
| | By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Henton. | |
| | KING. What was that Henton? | |
| | SURVEYOR. Sir, a Chartreux friar, | |
| | His confessor, who fed him every minute | |
| | With words of sovereignty. | |
| | KING. How know'st thou this? | |
| | SURVEYOR. Not long before your Highness sped to France, | |
| | The Duke being at the Rose, within the parish | |
| | Saint Lawrence Poultney, did of me demand | |
| | What was the speech among the Londoners | |
| | Concerning the French journey. I replied | |
| | Men fear'd the French would prove perfidious, | |
| | To the King's danger. Presently the Duke | |
| | Said 'twas the fear indeed and that he doubted | |
| | 'Twould prove the verity of certain words | |
| | Spoke by a holy monk 'that oft' says he | |
| | 'Hath sent to me, wishing me to permit | |
| | John de la Car, my chaplain, a choice hour | |
| | To hear from him a matter of some moment; | |
| | Whom after under the confession's seal | |
| | He solemnly had sworn that what he spoke | |
| | My chaplain to no creature living but | |
| | To me should utter, with demure confidence | |
| | This pausingly ensu'd: "Neither the King nor's heirs, | |
| | Tell you the Duke, shall prosper; bid him strive | |
| | To gain the love o' th' commonalty; the Duke | |
| | Shall govern England."' | |
| | QUEEN KATHARINE. If I know you well, | |
| | You were the Duke's surveyor, and lost your office | |
| | On the complaint o' th' tenants. Take good heed | |
| | You charge not in your spleen a noble person | |
| | And spoil your nobler soul. I say, take heed; | |
| | Yes, heartily beseech you. | |
| | KING. Let him on. | |
| | Go forward. | |
| | SURVEYOR. On my soul, I'll speak but truth. | |
| | I told my lord the Duke, by th' devil's illusions | |
| | The monk might be deceiv'd, and that 'twas dangerous | |
| | for him | |
| | To ruminate on this so far, until | |
| | It forg'd him some design, which, being believ'd, | |
| | It was much like to do. He answer'd 'Tush, | |
| | It can do me no damage'; adding further | |
| | That, had the King in his last sickness fail'd, | |
| | The Cardinal's and Sir Thomas Lovell's heads | |
| | Should have gone off. | |
| | KING. Ha! what, so rank? Ah ha! | |
| | There's mischief in this man. Canst thou say further? | |
| | SURVEYOR. I can, my liege. | |
| | KING. Proceed. | |
| | SURVEYOR. Being at Greenwich, | |
| | After your Highness had reprov'd the Duke | |
| | About Sir William Bulmer— | |
| | KING. I remember | |
| | Of such a time: being my sworn servant, | |
| | The Duke retain'd him his. But on: what hence? | |
| | SURVEYOR. 'If' quoth he 'I for this had been committed— | |
| | As to the Tower I thought—I would have play'd | |
| | The part my father meant to act upon | |
| | Th' usurper Richard; who, being at Salisbury, | |
| | Made suit to come in's presence, which if granted, | |
| | As he made semblance of his duty, would | |
| | Have put his knife into him.' | |
| | KING. A giant traitor! | |
| | WOLSEY. Now, madam, may his Highness live in freedom, | |
| | And this man out of prison? | |
| | QUEEN KATHARINE. God mend all! | |
| | KING. There's something more would out of thee: what say'st? | |
| | SURVEYOR. After 'the Duke his father' with the 'knife,' | |
| | He stretch'd him, and, with one hand on his dagger, | |
| | Another spread on's breast, mounting his eyes, | |
| | He did discharge a horrible oath, whose tenour | |
| | Was, were he evil us'd, he would outgo | |
| | His father by as much as a performance | |
| | Does an irresolute purpose. | |
| | KING. There's his period, | |
| | To sheath his knife in us. He is attach'd; | |
| | Call him to present trial. If he may | |
| | Find mercy in the law, 'tis his; if none, | |
| | Let him not seek't of us. By day and night! | |
| | He's traitor to th' height. | |
| | Exeunt | |
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