An Antechamber in the Palace. |
| |
Enter the Lord Chamberlain, reading a letter. |
| Cham. My lord, the horses your lordship sent for, with all the care I had, I saw well chosen, ridden, and furnished. They were young and handsome, and of the best breed in the north. When they were ready to set out for London, a man of my Lord Cardinal's, by commission and main power, took them from me; with this reason: His master would be served before a subject, if not before the king; which stopped our mouths, sir. |
| I fear he will indeed. Well, let him have them: |
| He will have all, I think. |
| |
Enter the DUKES OF NORFOLK and SUFFOLK. |
| Nor. Well met, my Lord Chamberlain. |
| Cham. Good day to both your Graces. |
| Suf. How is the king employ'd? |
| Cham. I left him private, |
| Full of sad thoughts and troubles. |
| Nor. What's the cause? |
| Cham. It seems the marriage with his brother's wife |
| Has crept too near his conscience. |
| Suf. No; his conscience. |
| Has crept too near another lady. |
| Nor. 'Tis so: |
| This is the cardinal's doing, the king-cardinal: |
| That blind priest, like the eldest son of Fortune, |
| Turns what he list. The king will know him one day. |
| Suf. Pray God he do! he'll never know himself else. |
| Nor. How holily he works in all his business, |
| And with what zeal! for, now he has crack'd the league |
| Between us and the emperor, the queen's great nephew, |
| He dives into the king's soul, and there scatters |
| Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience, |
| Fears, and despairs; and all these for his marriage: |
| And out of all these, to restore the king, |
| He counsels a divorce; a loss of her, |
| That like a jewel has hung twenty years |
| About his neck, yet never lost her lustre; |
| Of her, that loves him with that excellence |
| That angels love good men with; even of her, |
| That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls, |
| Will bless the king: and is not this course pious? |
| Cham. Heaven keep me from such counsel! 'Tis most true |
| These news are every where; every tongue speaks 'em, |
| And every true heart weeps for 't. All that dare |
| Look into these affairs, see this main end, |
| The French king's sister. Heaven will one day open |
| The king's eyes, that so long have slept upon |
| This bold bad man. |
| Suf. And free us from his slavery. |
| Nor. We had need pray, |
| And heartily, for our deliverance; |
| Or this imperious man will work us all |
| From princes into pages. All men's honours |
| Lie like one lump before him, to be fashion'd |
| Into what pitch he please. |
| Suf. For me, my lords, |
| I love him not, nor fear him; there's my creed. |
| As I am made without him, so I'll stand, |
| If the king please; his curses and his blessings |
| Touch me alike, they're breath I not believe in. |
| I knew him, and I know him; so I leave him |
| To him that made him proud, the pope. |
| Nor. Let's in; |
| And with some other business put the king |
| From these sad thoughts, that work too much upon him. |
| My lord, you'll bear us company? |
| Cham. Excuse me; |
| The king hath sent me otherwhere: besides, |
| You'll find a most unfit time to disturb him: |
| Health to your lordships. |
| Nor. Thanks, my good Lord Chamberlain. [Exit Lord Chamberlain. |
| |
NORFOLK opens a folding-door. The KING is discovered sitting and reading pensively. |
| Suf. How sad he looks! sure, he is much afflicted. |
| K. Hen. Who is there, ha? |
| Nor. Pray God he be not angry. |
| K. Hen. Who's there, I say? How dare you thrust yourselves |
| Into my private meditations? |
| Who am I, ha? |
| Nor. A gracious king that pardons all offences |
| Malice ne'er meant: our breach of duty this way |
| Is business of estate; in which we come |
| To know your royal pleasure. |
| K. Hen. Ye are too bold. |
| Go to; I'll make ye know your times of business: |
| Is this an hour for temporal affairs, ha? |
| |
Enter WOLSEY and CAMPEIUS. |
| Who's there? my good Lord Cardinal? O! my Wolsey, |
| The quiet of my wounded conscience; |
| Thou art a cure fit for a king. [To CAMPEIUS.] You're welcome, |
| Most learned reverend sir, into our kingdom: |
| Use us, and it. [To WOLSEY.] My good lord, have great care |
| I be not found a talker. |
| Wol. Sir, you cannot. |
| I would your Grace would give us but an hour |
| Of private conference. |
| K. Hen. [To NORFOLK and SUFFOLK.] We are busy: go. |
| Nor. [Aside to SUFFOLK.] This priest has no pride in him! |
| Suf. [Aside to NORFOLK.] Not to speak of; |
| I would not be so sick though for his place: |
| But this cannot continue. |
| Nor. [Aside to SUFFOLK.] If it do, |
| I'll venture one have-at-him. |
| Suf. [Aside to NORFOLK.] I another. [Exeunt NORFOLK and SUFFOLK. |
| Wol. Your Grace has given a precedent of wisdom |
| Above all princes, in committing freely |
| Your scruple to the voice of Christendom. |
| Who can be angry now? what envy reach you? |
| The Spaniard, tied by blood and favour to her, |
| Must now confess, if they have any goodness, |
| The trial just and noble. All the clerks, |
| I mean the learned ones, in Christian kingdoms |
| Have their free voices: Rome, the nurse of judgment, |
| Invited by your noble self, hath sent |
| One general tongue unto us, this good man, |
| This just and learned priest, Cardinal Campeius; |
| Whom once more I present unto your highness. |
| K. Hen. And once more in my arms I bid him welcome, |
| And thank the holy conclave for their loves: |
| They have sent me such a man I would have wish'd for. |
| Cam. Your Grace must needs deserve all strangers' loves, |
| You are so noble. To your highness' hand |
| I tender my commission, by whose virtue,— |
| The court of Rome commanding,—you, my Lord |
| Cardinal of York, are join'd with me, their servant, |
| In the impartial judging of this business. |
| K. Hen. Two equal men. The queen shall be acquainted |
| Forthwith for what you come. Where's Gardiner? |
| Wol. I know your majesty has always lov'd her |
| So dear in heart, not to deny her that |
| A woman of less place might ask by law, |
| Scholars, allow'd freely to argue for her. |
| K. Hen. Ay, and the best, she shall have; and my favour |
| To him that does best: God forbid else. Cardinal, |
| Prithee, call Gardiner to me, my new secretary: |
| I find him a fit fellow. [Exit WOLSEY. |
| |
Re-enter WOLSEY, with GARDINER. |
| Wol. [Aside to GARDINER.] Give me your hand; much joy and favour to you; |
| You are the king's now. |
| Gard. [Aside to WOLSEY.] But to be commanded |
| For ever by your Grace, whose hand has rais'd me. |
| K. Hen. Come hither, Gardiner. [They converse apart. |
| Cam. My Lord of York, was not one Doctor Pace |
| In this man's place before him? |
| Wol. Yes, he was. |
| Cam. Was he not held a learned man? |
| Wol. Yes, surely. |
| Cam. Believe me, there's an ill opinion spread then |
| Even of yourself, Lord Cardinal. |
| Wol. How! of me? |
| Cam. They will not stick to say, you envied him, |
| And fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous, |
| Kept him a foreign man still; which so griev'd him |
| That he ran mad and died. |
| Wol. Heaven's peace be with him! |
| That's Christian care enough: for living murmurers |
| There's places of rebuke. He was a fool, |
| For he would needs be virtuous: that good fellow, |
| If I command him, follows my appointment: |
| I will have none so near else. Learn this, brother, |
| We live not to be grip'd by meaner persons. |
| K. Hen. Deliver this with modesty to the queen. [Exit GARDINER. |
| The most convenient place that I can think of |
| For such receipt of learning, is Black-Friars; |
| There ye shall meet about this weighty business. |
| My Wolsey, see it furnish'd. O my lord! |
| Would it not grieve an able man to leave |
| So sweet a bedfellow? But, conscience, conscience! |
| O! 'tis a tender place, and I must leave her. [Exeunt. |
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