The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works

King Henry VIII

King Henry VIII, also known as All Is True, can be dated with unusual precision because it was being performed at the Globe on 29 June 1613 when the firing of cannon set light to the thatched roof and the theatre was burnt to the ground – fortunately without loss of life or injury. Several contemporary accounts of the fire refer to King Henry VIII as a new play at the time, so scholars agree in dating it 1613, though some would put it back to the beginning of that year, arguing that it would have been appropriate for performance at Court during the wedding celebrations of James I’s daughter Elizabeth and Frederick, the Elector Palatine. Shakespeare’s company, the King’s Men, did perform six of his plays as contributions to the festivities but there is no definite proof that King Henry VIII was one of them.

It was printed as the last of Shakespeare’s English history plays in the First Folio in 1623, and its historical material derives in part from the chronicles of Raphael Holinshed and Edward Hall – sources Shakespeare had used for his earlier histories – but it was composed some fourteen years after Henry V, the latest in the sequence of nine history plays Shakespeare had written between 1590 and 1599, and in some ways it is a different kind of play, having as many affinities with the late tragicomedies or ‘romances’ such as The Winter’s Tale and The Tempest as it has with the histories. It comes no nearer to a battlefield than a description of the ceremonial ‘Field of the Cloth of Gold’, where Henry VIII met Francis I to inaugurate a peace treaty between England and France; and it presents its main political events, which provide an implicit history of the Reformation, as a series of set-pieces on the fall from greatness of some characters (the Duke of Buckingham, Katherine of Aragon, Cardinal Wolsey) and the rise of others (Anne Bullen, Thomas Cranmer). It ends with a celebration of the birth of the future Elizabeth I and a tribute – which, in context, can be read as backhanded – to her supposedly even more glorious successor, James I. It imbues its historical events with a degree of myth or symbolism and presents Henry as an intemperate monarch, repeatedly upstaged by his subjects, notably the prelates, Wolsey and Cranmer.

Most editors and scholars believe that this play, like Cardenio (now lost) and The Two Noble Kinsmen, was a collaboration between Shakespeare and John Fletcher. All three plays date from the period 1612-13 when Shakespeare was scaling down his level of participation in the King’s Men’s activities; Fletcher succeeded him as the chief dramatist of the company, and seems to have preferred to work collaboratively, writing plays with Francis Beaumont and Philip Massinger as well as with Shakespeare. The scenes in the play generally attributed to Shakespeare are 1.1, 1.2, 2.3, 2.4, 3.2 to line 203 and 5.1, although to separate out the work of one participant in a collaboration is, in a sense, to miss the point.

The play was revived during the Restoration and remained popular in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, partly because of the opportunities it afforded for lavish spectacle and pageantry; it tends to be performed at times of coronation. The roles of Wolsey and Katherine came to dominate productions and were performed by leading actors from John Philip Kemble and his sister Sarah Siddons in 1806 to Henry Irving and Ellen Terry in 1892; much of the play used to be cut in order to focus attention on these roles. Twentieth-century productions restored Henry to a central position and aimed for a more thoughtful and serious reading of the play, finding ironies and contradictions in it as well as theatrical display.

The 2000 Arden text is based on the 1623 First Folio.

LIST OF ROLES

IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE

PROLOGUE
Duke of NORFOLK
Duke of BUCKINGHAM
Lord ABERGAVENNY		son-in-law to the Duke of Buckingham
Cardinal WOLSEY		Archbishop of York and Lord Chancellor
SECRETARY		to Cardinal Wolsey
BRANDON
SERGEANT-at-Arms
KING Henry the Eighth		of England
Sir Thomas LOVELL
KATHERINE		of Aragon, Queen of England, later divorced
Duke of SUFFOLK
SURVEYOR		to the Duke of Buckingham
Lord CHAMBERLAIN
Lord SANDYS
ANNE Bullen		maid of honour to Katherine, later Queen of England
Sir Henry GUILDFORD
SERVANT		at Wolsey’s party
First GENTLEMAN
Second GENTLEMAN
Sir Nicholas VAUX
Cardinal CAMPEIUS		papal legate
GARDINER		the King’s secretary, later Bishop of Winchester
OLD LADY		friend to Anne Bullen
Bishop of LINCOLN
GRIFFITH		Gentleman Usher to Katherine
SCRIBE		to the court
CRIER		to the court
Earl of SURREY		son-in-law to the Duke of Buckingham
Thomas CROMWELL		Wolsey’s secretary, later secretary to the Privy Council
Lord CHANCELLOR		(Sir Thomas More)
GARTER		King-of-Arms
Third GENTLEMAN
PATIENCE		attendant on Katherine
MESSENGER		at Kimbolton
Lord CAPUTIUS		ambassador from the Holy Roman Emperor
Gardiner’s PAGE
Sir Anthony DENNY
Thomas CRANMER		Archbishop of Canterbury
Door KEEPER		of the Council Chamber
Doctor BUTTS		the King’s physician
PORTER
Porter’s MAN
EPILOGUE

Musicians, Guards, Secretaries, Noblemen, Ladies, Gentlemen, Masquers, Tipstaves, Halberdiers, Attendants, Common People, Vergers, Scribes, Archbishop of Canterbury, Bishops of Ely, Rochester and St Asaph, Priests, Gentleman Usher, Women attendant on Katherine, Judges, Choristers, Lord Mayor of London, Marquess of Dorset, four Barons of the Cinque Ports, Bishop of London, Duchess of Norfolk, six Dancers (spirits) in Katherine’s vision, Marchioness of Dorset, Aldermen, Servants, Grooms

King Henry VIII

Enter PROLOGUE.

PROLOGUE
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	5
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	10
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	15
In a long motley coat guarded with yellow,
Will be deceived. 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	20
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	25
The very persons of our noble story
As they were living; think you see them great,
And followed with the general throng and sweat
Of thousand friends; then, in a moment, see
How soon this mightiness meets misery;	30
And if you can be merry then, I’ll say
A man may weep upon his wedding day. Exit.

1.1 Enter the Duke of NORFOLK at one door. At the other, the Duke of BUCKINGHAM and the Lord ABERGAVENNY.

BUCKINGHAM
Good morrow and well met. How have ye done
Since last we saw in France?
NORFOLK I thank your grace,
Healthful, and ever since a fresh admirer
Of what I saw there.
BUCKINGHAM An untimely ague
Stayed me a prisoner in my chamber when	5
Those suns of glory, those two lights of men,
Met in the vale of Andres.
NORFOLK ’Twixt Guînes and Ardres
I was then present, saw them salute on horseback,
Beheld them when they lighted, how they clung
In their embracement as they grew together –	10
Which had they, what four throned ones could have weighed
Such a compounded one?
BUCKINGHAM All the whole time
I was my chamber’s prisoner.
NORFOLK Then you lost
The view of earthly glory. Men might say
Till this time pomp was single, but now married	15
To one above itself. Each following day
Became the next day’s master, till the last
Made former wonders its. Today the French,
All clinquant, all in gold like heathen gods,
Shone down the English; and tomorrow they	20
Made Britain India. Every man that stood
Showed like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were
As cherubims, all gilt. The madams too,
Not used to toil, did almost sweat to bear
The pride upon them, that their very labour	25
Was to them as a painting. Now this masque
Was cried incomparable; and th’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,	30
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 ’em – by their heralds challenged
The noble spirits to arms, they did perform	35
Beyond thought’s compass – that former fabulous story
Being now seen possible enough, got credit
That Bevis was believed.
BUCKINGHAM O, you go far.
NORFOLK As I belong to worship and affect
In honour honesty, the tract of everything	40
Would by a good discourser lose some life
Which action’s self was tongue to. All was royal;
To the disposing of it naught rebelled;
Order gave each thing view; the office did
Distinctly his full function.
BUCKINGHAM Who did guide –	45
I mean, who set the body and the limbs
Of this great sport together, as you guess?
NORFOLK One, certes, that promises no element
In such a business.
BUCKINGHAM I pray you who, my lord?
NORFOLK All this was ordered by the good discretion	50
Of the right reverend Cardinal of York.
BUCKINGHAM
The devil speed him! No man’s pie is freed
From his ambitious finger. What had he
To do in these fierce vanities? I wonder
That such a keech can with his very bulk	55
Take up the rays o’th’ beneficial sun
And keep it from the earth.
NORFOLK Surely, sir,
There’s in him stuff that puts him to these ends;
For being not propped by ancestry, whose grace
Chalks successors their way, nor called upon	60
For high feats done to th’ crown, neither allied
To eminent assistants, but spider-like,
Out of his self-drawing web, ’a gives us note
The force of his own merit makes his way
A gift that heaven gives for him, which buys	65
A place next to the King.
ABERGAVENNY 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	70
Or has given all before, and he begins
A new hell in himself.
BUCKINGHAM Why the devil,
Upon this French going-out, took he upon him,
Without the privity o’th’ King, t’appoint
Who should attend on him? He makes up the file	75
Of all the gentry, for the most part such
To 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.
ABERGAVENNY I do know	80
Kinsmen of mine – three at the least – that have
By this so sickened their estates that never
They shall abound as formerly.
BUCKINGHAM O, many
Have broke their backs with laying manors on ’em
For this great journey. What did this vanity	85
But minister communication of
A most poor issue?
NORFOLK Grievingly, I think
The peace between the French and us not values
The cost that did conclude it.
BUCKINGHAM Every man,
After the hideous storm that followed, was	90
A thing inspired and, not consulting, broke
Into a general prophecy, that this tempest,
Dashing the garment of this peace, aboded
The sudden breach on’t.
NORFOLK Which is budded out,
For France hath flawed the league, and hath attached	95
Our merchants’ goods at Bordeaux.
ABERGAVENNY Is it therefore
Th’ambassador is silenced?
NORFOLK Marry, is’t.
ABERGAVENNY A proper title of a peace, and purchased
At a superfluous rate.
BUCKINGHAM Why, all this business
Our reverend Cardinal carried.
NORFOLK Like it your grace,	100
The state takes notice of the private difference
Betwixt you and the Cardinal. I advise you –
And take it from a heart that wishes towards you
Honour and plenteous safety – that you read
The Cardinal’s malice and his potency	105
Together; to consider further that
What his high hatred would effect wants not
A minister in his power. You know his nature,
That he’s revengeful, and I know his sword
Hath a sharp edge: it’s long, and’t may be said	110
It reaches far, and where ’twill not extend,
Thither he darts it. Bosom up my counsel;
You’ll find it wholesome. Lo, where comes that rock
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.
WOLSEY The Duke of Buckingham’s surveyor, ha?	115
Where’s his examination?
SECRETARY Here, so please you.
WOLSEY Is he in person ready?
SECRETARY Ay, please your grace.
WOLSEY
Well, we shall then know more, and Buckingham
Shall lessen this big look.
Exeunt Cardinal and his train.
BUCKINGHAM
This butcher’s cur is venom-mouthed, and I	120
Have not the power to muzzle him: therefore best
Not wake him in his slumber. A beggar’s book
Outworths a noble’s blood.
NORFOLK What, are you chafed?
Ask God for temperance: that’s th’appliance only
Which your disease requires.
BUCKINGHAM I read in’s looks	125
Matter against me, and his eye reviled
Me as his abject object. At this instant
He bores me with some trick. He’s gone to th’ King:
I’ll follow and out-stare him.
NORFOLK Stay, my lord,
And let your reason with your choler question	130
What ’tis you go about. To climb steep hills
Requires slow pace at first. Anger is like
A full hot horse, who being allowed his way
Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England
Can advise me like you: be to yourself	135
As you would to your friend.
BUCKINGHAM I’ll to the King,
And from a mouth of honour quite cry down
This Ipswich fellow’s insolence, or proclaim
There’s difference in no persons.
NORFOLK Be advised:
Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot	140
That it do singe yourself. We may outrun
By violent swiftness that which we run at,
And lose by over-running. Know you not
The fire that mounts the liquor till’t run o’er,
In seeming to augment it, wastes it? Be advised:	145
I say again there is no English soul
More stronger to direct you than yourself,
If with the sap of reason you would quench
Or but allay the fire of passion.
BUCKINGHAM Sir,
I am thankful to you, and I’ll go along	150
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
We see each grain of gravel, I do know	155
To be corrupt and treasonous.
NORFOLK Say not ‘treasonous’.
BUCKINGHAM
To th’ King I’ll say’t, and make my vouch as strong
As shore of rock. Attend. This holy fox,
Or wolf, or both – for he is equal ravenous
As he is subtle, and as prone to mischief	160
As able to perform’t – his mind and place
Infecting one another – yea, reciprocally –
Only to show his pomp as well in France
As here at home, suggests the King our master
To this last costly treaty, th’interview	165
That swallowed so much treasure and like a glass
Did break i’th’ rinsing.
NORFOLK Faith, and so it did.
BUCKINGHAM
Pray give me favour, sir. This cunning Cardinal
The articles o’th’ combination drew
As himself pleased; and they were ratified	170
As he cried, ‘Thus let be’, to as much end
As give a crutch to th’ dead. But our Count–Cardinal
Has done this, and ’tis well: for worthy Wolsey,
Who cannot err, he did it. Now this follows –
Which, as I take it, is a kind of puppy	175
To th’old dam treason – Charles the Emperor,
Under pretence to see the Queen his aunt –
For ’twas indeed his colour, but he came
To whisper Wolsey – here makes visitation.
His fears were that the interview betwixt	180
England and France might through their amity
Breed him some prejudice, for from this league
Peeped harms that menaced him. He privily
Deals with our Cardinal, and as I trow –
Which I do well, for I am sure the Emperor	185
Paid ere he promised, whereby his suit was granted
Ere it was asked – but when the way was made
And paved with gold, the Emperor thus desired
That he would please to alter the King’s course
And break the foresaid peace. Let the King know,	190
As soon he shall by me, that thus the Cardinal
Does buy and sell his honour as he pleases,
And for his own advantage.
NORFOLK I am sorry
To hear this of him, and could wish he were
Something mistaken in’t.
BUCKINGHAM No, not a syllable.	195
I do pronounce him in that very shape
He shall appear in proof.
Enter BRANDON, a Sergeant-at-Arms before him, and two or three of the guard.
BRANDON Your office, sergeant: execute it.
SERGEANT Sir,
My lord the Duke of Buckingham, and Earl
Of Hereford, Stafford and Northampton, I	200
Arrest thee of high treason in the name
Of our most sovereign King.
BUCKINGHAM Lo you, my lord,
The net has fallen upon me: I shall perish
Under device and practice.
BRANDON I am sorry
To see you ta’en from liberty, to look on	205
The business present. ’Tis his highness’ pleasure
You shall to th’ Tower.
BUCKINGHAM It will help me nothing
To plead mine innocence, for that dye is on me
Which makes my whitest part black. The will of heaven
Be done in this and all things: I obey.	210
O my lord Abergavenny, fare you well.
BRANDON Nay, he must bear you company.
[to Abergavenny] The King
Is pleased you shall to th’ Tower, till you know
How he determines further.
ABERGAVENNY As the Duke said,
The will of heaven be done, and the King’s pleasure	215
By me obeyed.
BRANDON Here is a warrant from
The King t’attach Lord Montague and the bodies
Of the Duke’s confessor, John de la Court,
One Gilbert Park, his chancellor –
BUCKINGHAM So, so;
These are the limbs o’th’ plot. No more, I hope?	220
BRANDON A monk o’th’ Chartreux.
BUCKINGHAM O, Nicholas Hopkins?
BRANDON He.
BUCKINGHAM
My surveyor is false: the o’er-great Cardinal
Hath showed him gold. My life is spanned already.
I am the shadow of poor Buckingham,
Whose figure even this instant cloud puts on	225
By darkening my clear sun. My lord, farewell.
Exeunt.

1.2 Cornetts. Enter KING Henry, leaning on the Cardinal ’s shoulder, the nobles, and Sir Thomas LOVELL; the Cardinal places himself under the King’s feet on his right side.[A secretary attends the Cardinal.]

KING My life itself, and the best heart of it,
Thanks you for this great care. I stood i’th’ level
Of a full-charged confederacy, and give thanks
To you that choked it. Let be called before us
That gentleman of Buckingham’s: in person	5
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!’ who, as she enters is ushered by the Duke of NORFOLK. Enter Queen KATHERINE, NORFOLK and the Duke of SUFFOLK. Katherine kneels. King riseth from his state, takes her up, and kisses her.
KATHERINE Nay, we must longer kneel. I am a suitor.
KING Arise, and take place by us.
[The King placeth her by him.]
Half your suit	10
Never name to us. You have half our power;
The other moiety ere you ask is given.
Repeat your will and take it.
KATHERINE Thank your majesty.
That you would love yourself, and in that love
Not unconsidered leave your honour nor	15
The dignity of your office, is the point
Of my petition.
KING Lady mine, proceed.
KATHERINE I am solicited – not by a few,
And those of true condition – that your subjects
Are in great grievance. There have been commissions	20
Sent down among ’em which hath flawed 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 –	25
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,	30
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, compelled by hunger
And lack of other means, in desperate manner,	35
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 blamed for it alike with us,
Know you of this taxation?
WOLSEY Please you, sir,	40
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.
KATHERINE No, my lord,
You know no more than others, but you frame
Things that are known alike, which are not wholesome	45
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	50
They are devised 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?
KATHERINE I am much too venturous
In tempting of your patience, but am boldened	55
Under your promised 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 named your wars in France. This makes bold mouths:	60
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	65
Would give it quick consideration, for
There is no primer baseness.
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 passed me but	70
By learned approbation of the judges. If I am
Traduced 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	75
That virtue must go through. We must not stint
Our necessary actions in the fear
To cope malicious censurers, which ever,
As ravenous fishes, do a vessel follow
That is new-trimmed, but benefit no further	80
Than vainly longing. What we oft do best,
By sick interpreters, or weak ones, is
Not ours or not allowed; what worst, as oft,
Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up
For our best act. If we shall stand still	85
In fear our motion will be mocked or carped 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	90
Are to be feared. 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	95
From every tree lop, bark and part o’th’ timber,
And though we leave it with a root, thus hacked
The air will drink the sap. To every county
Where this is questioned send our letters with
Free pardon to each man that has denied	100
The force of this commission. Pray look to’t:
I put it to your care.
WOLSEY [apart to his 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 noised	105
That through our intercession this revokement
And pardon comes. I shall anon advise you
Further in the proceeding. Exit secretary.
Enter Surveyor.
KATHERINE I am sorry that the Duke of Buckingham
Is run in your displeasure.
KING It grieves many.	110
The gentleman is learned 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	115
Not well disposed, 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 enrolled ’mongst wonders – and when we,
Almost with ravished listening, could not find	120
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 besmeared in hell. Sit by us. You shall hear –
This was his gentleman in trust – of him	125
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	130
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	135
I’ve heard him utter to his son-in-law,
Lord Abergavenny, to whom by oath he menaced
Revenge upon the Cardinal.
WOLSEY Please your highness note
His dangerous conception in this point,
Not friended by his wish to your high person;	140
His will is most malignant, and it stretches
Beyond you to your friends.
KATHERINE My learned 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	145
At any time speak aught?
SURVEYOR He was brought to this
By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Hopkins.
KING What was that Hopkins?
SURVEYOR Sir, a Chartreux friar,
His confessor, who fed him every minute
With words of sovereignty.
KING How knowst thou this?	150
SURVEYOR
Not long before your highness sped to France,
The Duke being at the Rose, within the parish
Saint Laurence Pountney, did of me demand
What was the speech among the Londoners
Concerning the French journey. I replied	155
Men feared 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,	160
‘Hath sent to me, wishing me to permit
John de la Court, 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	165
My chaplain to no creature living but
To me should utter, with demure confidence
This pausingly ensued: “Neither the King, nor’s heirs –
Tell you the Duke – shall prosper. Bid him strive
To purchase the love o’th’ commonalty. The Duke	170
Shall govern England.” ’
KATHERINE 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 –	175
Yes, heartily beseech you.
KING Let him on:
[to the Surveyor] 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 deceived, and that ’twas dangerous
For him to ruminate on this so far until	180
It forged him some design – which, being believed,
It was much like to do. He answered, ‘Tush,
It can do me no damage,’ adding further
That had the King in his last sickness failed,
The Cardinal’s and Sir Thomas Lovell’s heads	185
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 reproved the Duke
About Sir William Bulmer –	190
KING I remember
Of such a time: being my sworn servant,
The Duke retained 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 played	195
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	200
Now, madam, may his highness live in freedom
And this man out of prison?
KATHERINE God mend all.
KING
There’s something more would out of thee: what sayst?
SURVEYOR After ‘the Duke his father’, with ‘the knife’,
He stretched him, and with one hand on his dagger,	205
Another spread on’s breast, mounting his eyes,
He did discharge a horrible oath, whose tenor
Was, were he evil used, he would outgo
His father by as much as a performance
Does an irresolute purpose.
KING There’s his period:	210
To sheathe his knife in us. He is attached;
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.

1.3 Enter Lord CHAMBERLAIN and Lord SANDYS

CHAMBERLAIN
Is’t possible the spells of France should juggle
Men into such strange mysteries?
SANDYS New customs,
Though they be never so ridiculous –
Nay, let ’em be unmanly – yet are followed.
CHAMBERLAIN	5
As far as I see, all the good our English
Have got by the late voyage is but merely
A fit or two o’th’ face – but they are shrewd ones,
For when they hold ’em you would swear directly
Their very noses had been counsellors	10
To Pepin or Clotharius, they keep state so.
SANDYS
They have all new legs, and lame ones. One would take it,
That never see ’em pace before, the spavin
Or springhalt reigned among ’em.
CHAMBERLAIN Death, my lord,
Their clothes are after such a pagan cut to’t,
That sure they’ve worn out Christendom.
Enter Sir Thomas LOVELL.
How now?	15
What news, Sir Thomas Lovell?
LOVELL Faith, my lord,
I hear of none but the new proclamation
That’s clapped upon the Court Gate.
CHAMBERLAIN What is’t for?
LOVELL The reformation of our travelled gallants
That fill the court with quarrels, talk and tailors.	20
CHAMBERLAIN
I’m glad ’tis there. Now I would pray our monsieurs
To think an English courtier may be wise
And never see the Louvre.
LOVELL They must either,
For so run the conditions, leave those remnants
Of fool and feather that they got in France,	25
With all their honourable points of ignorance
Pertaining thereunto – as fights and fireworks;
Abusing better men than they can be
Out of a foreign wisdom – renouncing clean
The faith they have in tennis and tall stockings,	30
Short blistered breeches, and those types of travel,
And understand again like honest men,
Or pack to their old playfellows. There, I take it,
They may, cum privilegio, oui away
The lag end of their lewdness and be laughed at.	35
SANDYS ’Tis time to give ’em physic, their diseases
Are grown so catching.
CHAMBERLAIN What a loss our ladies
Will have of these trim vanities!
LOVELL Ay, marry,
There will be woe indeed, lords. The sly whoresons
Have got a speeding trick to lay down ladies:	40
A French song and a fiddle has no fellow.
SANDYS The devil fiddle ’em! I am glad they are going,
For sure there’s no converting of ’em. Now
An honest country lord, as I am, beaten
A long time out of play, may bring his plainsong	45
And have an hour of hearing, and, by’r Lady,
Held current music too.
CHAMBERLAIN Well said, Lord Sandys.
Your colt’s tooth is not cast yet?
SANDYS No, my lord,
Nor shall not while I have a stump.
CHAMBERLAIN Sir Thomas,
Whither were you a-going?
LOVELL To the Cardinal’s.	50
Your lordship is a guest too.
CHAMBERLAIN O, ’tis true.
This night he makes a supper, and a great one,
To many lords and ladies. There will be
The beauty of this kingdom, I’ll assure you.
LOVELL
That churchman bears a bounteous mind indeed,	55
A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us:
His dews fall everywhere.
CHAMBERLAIN No doubt he’s noble –
He had a black mouth that said other of him.
SANDYS He may, my lord; ’has wherewithal. In him
Sparing would show a worse sin than ill doctrine.	60
Men of his way should be most liberal:
They are set here for examples.
CHAMBERLAIN True, they are so,
But few now give so great ones. My barge stays.
Your lordship shall along. Come, good Sir Thomas,
We shall be late else, which I would not be,	65
For I was spoke to, with Sir Henry Guildford,
This night to be comptrollers.
SANDYS I am your lordship’s. Exeunt.

1.4 Hautboys. A small table under a state for the Cardinal; a longer table for the guests. Then enter ANNE Bullen and diverse other ladies and gentlemen, as guests, at one door. At another door enter Sir Henry GUILDFORD.

GUILDFORD Ladies, a general welcome from his grace
Salutes ye all. This night he dedicates
To fair content and you. None here, he hopes,
In all this noble bevy has brought with her
One care abroad: he would have all as merry	5
As, first, good company, good wine, good welcome
Can make good people.
Enter Lord CHAMBERLAIN, Lord SANDYS and Sir Thomas LOVELL.
O my lord, you’re tardy.
The very thought of this fair company
Clapped wings to me.
CHAMBERLAIN You are young, Sir Harry Guildford.
SANDYS Sir Thomas Lovell, had the Cardinal	10
But half my lay thoughts in him, some of these
Should find a running banquet ere they rested
I think would better please ’em. By my life,
They are a sweet society of fair ones.
LOVELL O, that your lordship were but now confessor	15
To one or two of these.
SANDYS I would I were:
They should find easy penance.
LOVELL Faith, how easy?
SANDYS As easy as a down bed would afford it.
CHAMBERLAIN
Sweet ladies, will it please you sit? Sir Harry,
Place you that side; I’ll take the charge of this.	20
His grace is entering. Nay, you must not freeze:
Two women placed together makes cold weather.
My lord Sandys, you are one will keep ’em waking:
Pray sit between these ladies.
SANDYS By my faith,
And thank your lordship. By your leave, sweet ladies.	25
If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me:
I had it from my father.
ANNE Was he mad, sir?
SANDYS O, very mad – exceeding mad in love, too –
But he would bite none. Just as I do now,
He would kiss you twenty with a breath.
CHAMBERLAIN Well said, my lord.	30
So, now you’re fairly seated, gentlemen,
The penance lies on you if these fair ladies
Pass away frowning.
SANDYS For my little cure
Let me alone.
Hautboys. Enter Cardinal WOLSEY and takes his state.
WOLSEY
You’re welcome, my fair guests. That noble lady	35
Or gentleman that is not freely merry
Is not my friend. This, to confirm my welcome;
And to you all, good health!
SANDYS Your grace is noble:
Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks
And save me so much talking.
WOLSEY My lord Sandys,	40
I am beholding to you. Cheer your neighbours.
Ladies, you are not merry. Gentlemen,
Whose fault is this?
SANDYS The red wine first must rise
In their fair cheeks, my lord; then we shall have ’em
Talk us to silence.
ANNE You are a merry gamester,	45
My lord Sandys.
SANDYS Yes, if I make my play.
Here’s to your ladyship; and pledge it, madam,
For ’tis to such a thing –
ANNE You cannot show me.
SANDYS I told your grace they would talk anon.
[Drum and trumpet. Chambers discharged.]
WOLSEY What’s that?
CHAMBERLAIN Look out there, some of ye.
WOLSEY What warlike voice,	50
And to what end, is this? Nay, ladies, fear not:
By all the laws of war you’re privileged.
Enter a Servant.
CHAMBERLAIN How now, what is’t?
SERVANT A noble troop of strangers,
For so they seem. They’ve left their barge and landed,
And hither make, as great ambassadors	55
From foreign princes.
WOLSEY Good Lord Chamberlain,
Go, give ’em welcome – you can speak the French tongue –
And pray receive ’em nobly, and conduct ’em
Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty
Shall shine at full upon them. Some attend him.	60
Exit Lord Chamberlain, attended.
[All rise, and tables removed.]
You have now a broken banquet, but we’ll mend it.
A good digestion to you all, and once more
I shower a welcome on ye. Welcome all!
Hautboys. Enter KING and others as masquers, habited like shepherds, ushered by the Lord CHAMBERLAIN. They pass directly before the Cardinal and gracefully salute him.
A noble company. What are their pleasures?
CHAMBERLAIN
Because they speak no English, thus they prayed
To tell your grace: that having heard by fame	65
Of this so noble and so fair assembly
This night to meet here, they could do no less,
Out of the great respect they bear to beauty,
But leave their flocks and, under your fair conduct,
Crave leave to view these ladies and entreat	70
An hour of revels with ’em.
WOLSEY Say, Lord Chamberlain,
They have done my poor house grace; for which I pay ’em
A thousand thanks and pray ’em take their pleasures.
[The masquers choose ladies. The King chooses Anne
Bullen.]
KING The fairest hand I ever touched. O Beauty,	75
Till now I never knew thee. [Music. Dance.]
WOLSEY My lord.
CHAMBERLAIN Your grace?
WOLSEY Pray tell ’em thus much from me:
There should be one amongst ’em by his person
More worthy this place than myself, to whom,
If I but knew him, with my love and duty	80
I would surrender it.
CHAMBERLAIN I will, my lord.
[Chamberlain talks in a whisper with the masquers].
WOLSEY What say they?
CHAMBERLAIN Such a one they all confess
There is indeed, which they would have your grace
Find out, and he will take it.
WOLSEY Let me see, then.
By all your good leaves, gentlemen, here I’ll make	85
My royal choice.
KING Ye have found him, Cardinal.
[Unmasks.]
You hold a fair assembly. You do well, lord:
You are a churchman, or I’ll tell you, Cardinal,
I should judge now unhappily.
WOLSEY I am glad
Your grace is grown so pleasant.
KING My lord Chamberlain,	90
Prithee come hither. What fair lady’s that?
CHAMBERLAIN
An’t please your grace, Sir Thomas Bullen’s daughter,
The Viscount Rochford, one of her highness’ women.
KING
By heaven, she is a dainty one. [to Anne] Sweetheart,
I were unmannerly to take you out	95
And not to kiss you. A health, gentlemen!
Let it go round.
WOLSEY Sir Thomas Lovell, is the banquet ready
I’th’ privy chamber?
LOVELL Yes, my lord.
WOLSEY Your grace,
I fear, with dancing is a little heated.	100
KING I fear too much.
WOLSEY There’s fresher air, my lord,
In the next chamber.
KING Lead in your ladies, everyone. Sweet partner,
I must not yet forsake you. Let’s be merry,
Good my lord Cardinal. I have half a dozen healths	105
To drink to these fair ladies, and a measure
To lead ’em once again, and then let’s dream
Who’s best in favour. Let the music knock it.
Exeunt with trumpets.