/ »' •»• ••If '* • • *'fT ■y * »•• A *'♦ 1 - *' "7"*' •' ti l '- ' '-ik '.''v.!'-.!.' ■; •'O r"i • •• ' • ■,<■•.• I . 1. s ••-■«.,A.1,1 NORTHWESTERN UNIVERSITY LIBRARY EVANSTON ILLINOIS Cfatenbon (pvtee HENRY THE EIGHTH W. A.r.DIS WRIGHT Sonion HENRY FROWDE Oxford University Press Warehouse Amen Corner, E.C. MACMII-LAN & CO., 66 FIFTH AVENUE Cfarenbon ^ertee SHAKESPEARE SELECT PLAYS THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE LIFE OF KING HENRY THE EIGHTH EDITED BY WILLIAM ALDIS WRIGHT, M.A. HON. D.C.L. AND LL.D. FELLOW^ SENIOR RURSAR, AND VICE*MASTER OF TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE AT THE CLARENDON PRESS MDCCCXCV PRINTED AT THE CLARENDON PRESS BY HORACE HART, PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY ?.or\i3oa. PREFACE. 'The famous History of the Life of King Henry the Eight' was first printed in ' Mr. William Shakespeares Comedies, Histories, & Tragedies,' a folio volume which was brought out in 1623 by the players Heminge and Condell, and is known as the first Folio. This is the only external evidence which connects the play with the name of Shake¬ speare. In a letter to his nephew, Sir Edmund Bacon, on July 2nd, 1613, Sir Henry Wotton writes: 'Now, to let matters of State sleep, I will entertain you at the present with what hath happened this Week at the Banks side. The Kings Players had a new Play, called All is True, representing some principal pieces of the reign of Henry the ith. which was set forth with many extraordinary Circumstances of Pomp and Majesty, even to the matting of the Stage; the Knights of the Order, with their Georges and Garter, the Guards with their embroidered Coats, and the like: sufficient in truth within a while to make Greatness very familiar, if not ridiculous. Now, King Henry rD3^\x\% a Masque at the cardinal Wolseys House, and Certain Cannons being shot off at his entry, some of the Paper, or other stuff, wherewith one of them was stopped, did light on the Thatch, where being thought at first but an idle smoak, and their Eyes more attentive to the show, it kindled inwardly, and ran round like a train, consuming within less than an hour the whole House to the very ground. 'This was the fatal period of that virtuous Fabrique; wherein yet nothing did perish, but Wood and Straw, and a few forsaken Cloaks; only one Man had his Breeches set on fire, that would perhaps have broyled him, if he had not by the benefit of a provident wit put it out with Bottle-Ale.' Reliquiae Wottonianae, ed. 1685, p. 425. This is confirmed in a MS. letter from Thomas Lorkin to vi PREFACE. Sir Thomas Puckering in the Harleian Collection (N" 7002, fol. 268), quoted by Tyrwhitt, and written on the last day of June, 1613:' No longer since then yesterday, while Bourbage his companie were acting at y® Globe the play of Hen: 8: and there shooting of certayne chambers in way of triumph ; the fire catch'd & fastened vpon the thatch of y® house and there burned so furiously as it consumed the whole house & all in lesse then two houres (the people hauing enough to doe to saue themselves).'' Again, Chamberlaine, writing to Sir Ralph Winwood from London on the 8th of July, 1613, gives him the news of the town: ' But the burning of the Globe a Playhouse on the Bankside on St Peter's Day cannot escape you ; which fell out by a Peale of Chambers (that I know not upon what Occasion were to be used in the Play,) the Tampin or Stopple of one of them lighting in the Thatch that covered the House, bum'd it down to the Ground in less than two Hours, with a Dwelling-house adjoyning; and it was a great Marvaile and fair Grace of God that the People had so little Harm, having but two narrow Doors to get out.' Wip- wood's Memorials, ed. Sawyer, iii. 469. Ben Jonson, though this is disputed by Gifibrd, was apparently present when the theatre was burnt, and com¬ memorated it in his Execration upon Vulcan : ' But O those reeds! thy mere disdain of them Made thee beget that cruel stratagem, Which some are pleased to style but thy mad prank, Against the Globe the glory of the Bank: Which though it were the fort of the whole parish, Flank'd with a ditch, and forced out of a marrish, I saw with two poor chambers taken in. And razed; ere thought could urge this might have been! See the World's ruins! nothing but the piles Left, and wit since to cover it with tiles.' '■ For the exact reference to this passage in the MS., and for the fuller quotation, I am indebted to the kindness of Mr. E. Maunde Thompson, Principal Librarian of the British Museum. PREFACE. V#f It is evident from the contemporary accounts that the play which was acted on this occasion was a play called Henry VIII, and that it had a second title All is True. This is confirmed by Howes, the Continuator of Stow's Chronicle, who in the year 1615 (p. 926), in relating the incident, re¬ cords that it took place, ' the house being filled with people, to behold the play, viz. of Henry the 8.' About the further question, whether this play of Henry the Eighth is the same as that with which we are familiar, there are considerable differences of opinion. Gifford, in his Life of Ben Jonson (ed. 1816), p. cclxxiii, maintained 'that the piece acted in 1613 was "a new play, called All is Truth," constructed, indeed, on the history of Henry VIII, and, like that, full of shows ; but giving probably a different view of some of the leading incidents of that monarch's life.' But this is merely part of an argument by which he defends Ben Jonson against the charge of malignity towards Shakespeare, which had been urged by Malone and Steevens, and he proceeds on the assumption that Malone was right in assigning the original appecirance of Henry VIII to the year 1601, in which case it could not have been described as a new play when it was revived in 1613. He was therefore driven to conjecture that All is True was something entirely distinct from the piece attributed to Shakespeare. For a different reason Mr. Halliwell-Phillipps, in the eighth edition of his Outlines of the Life of Shakespeare, pronounced against their identity. 'It is true,' he says (i. 241), 'that some of the historical incidents in the piece that was in course of representation when the accident occurred are also introduced into Shake¬ speare's play, but it is not likely that there was any other resemblance between the two works.' The only reason for this confident opinion appears to be that in a ballad ^ which ' Two ballads were entered at Stationers' Hall the very day after the fire: one by Symon Stafford, under the title of ' The sodayne Burning of The Globe on the Bankside in the Play tyme on Saint Peters day last 1613'; the other by Edward White, called 'A viii PREFACE. was written on the burning of the Globe Theatre, and which is supposed to belong to the early part of the seventeenth century, there is a reference to the narrow escape of the Fool. This at least is the interpretation given to the lines : 'The reprobates, thoughe druncke on munday, Prayd for the Foole and Henry Condye.' And, as there is no fool in the play attributed to Shakespeare, it is argued that it must have been some other play in which there was a fool's part which was acted when the theatre took fire. Mr. Halliwell-Phillipps says: ' The mere circum¬ stance of there having been a Fool introduced into the play then in course of representation is of course a decisive proof that it was not Shakespeare's Henry the Eighth' (ii. 292). And again: ' The appearance of a fool in the represented play is, however, the only point of the slightest importance, and that fact seems to be decisively established by the lines in question. So far from there being evidence that the Globe was one of those theatres in which a Fool was a regular appendage, the very contrary may be inferred from a dialogue in Greene's Tu Quoque ' (ii. 293). It is sometimes better to state conclusions without giving the reasons for them. The ballad proves, if its evidence is good for any¬ thing, that there was a player belonging to the Globe Theatre who acted the Fool's part, but it does not imply of necessity that there was a Fool's part in the play which was repre¬ sented at the time of the fire. The catastrophe came so suddenly that the players, and the Fool among them, had barely time to escape. The dialogue in Greene's Tu Quoque, to which Mr. Halliwell-Phillipps appealed in support of his assertion that the Globe was not one of the theatres ^ which doleful ballad of the general ouerthrow of the famous theater on the Banksyde, called the Globe &c., by William Parrat.' ' In Heath's Epigrammes (l6io), cent. 2, epigram. 39, the Globe is expressly mentioned as one of the theatres which had a Fool. The epigram begins, ' Momns would act the fooles part in a play,' PREFACE. ix had a professional Fool, although the ballad asserts the contrary, really points to an opposite conclusion. In this comedy, which was written by John Cook, four of the characters are Geraldine, Will Rash, Scattergood, and Bubble, and they talk as follows : ' IV. Rash. But what shall's do when we have dined ? Shall's go and see a play ?. Scat. Yes, faith, brother, if it please you: let's go see a play at the Globe. Bud. I care not: any whither, so the clown have a part; for, i' faith, I am nobody without a fool. Gera. Why, then, we '11 go to the Red Bull: they say Green's a good clown.' The natural inference from this is, not that there was no Fool at all at the Globe, but that there was a better at the Red Bull. It does not appear therefore that Mr. Halliwell- Phillipps's reasons bear out his cdnclusions. Mr. Fleay also (Life of Shakespeare, p. 171) was in¬ fluenced by a similar consideration, when he wrote of the play which Burbage's company were acting when the theatre took fire : ' It was of course Shakespecure's play in its original form. A Fool must have acted in it, for in the old ballad about this fire," the reprobates prayed for the fool and Henry Condy" (Condell), who were apparently the last actors who escaped.' While, however, he admits that the play in question was what is called Shakespeare's Henry VIII at some stage of its existence, and that the Prologue as we now have it contains references to the other title of the play ' All is True,' he adds,' But the same Prologue shows that the extant play was performed as a new one at Blackfriars, for the price of entrance, a "shilling," 1. 12, and the address to "the first and happiest hearers of the town," 1. 24, are and in order to qualify himself he visits the several theatres, be¬ ginning with the Globe. ' Now at the Globe, with a iudicious eye, Into the Vice's action doth he prie.' X PREFACE. only applicable to the " private house" in Blackfriars; the entrance to the Globe was twopence, and the audience at this "public house" of a much lower class.' Here, again, it seems that the facts hardly warrant the conclusion. There is no evidence whatever that a shilling was the regular price of admission to the Blackfriars Theatre while twopence was the regular price of admission tp the Globe. There were, no doubt, shilling places and twopenny places in both: in fact, twopence was at this time the price of admission to the gallery in more than one theatre, as may be inferred from the Prologue to Fletcher's Woman Hater (1607), quoted by Malone in his Historical Account of the English Stage (Shakespeare, ed. Boswell, iii. 74): 'For I do pronounce this to the utter discbmfort of all twopenny gallery men.' Again, in Dekker's Lanthome and Ceindle-light, or. The Bell- Mans Second Nights-walke (Non-dramaticWorks,ed.Grosart, iii. 216), also quoted by Malone, we read: ' Pay thy two¬ pence to a Player, in his gallerie maist thou sitte by a Harlot.' Besides, in the contract for building the Fortune Theatre on the model of the Globe in 1599 (Boswell's Shakespeare, iii. 338-343), provision is made for the' gentlemen's rooms' and the' twopenny rooms,' the former corresponding to the boxes, and the latter to the gallery, in a modem theatre. It is not therefore quite legitimate to compare the lowest price at one theatre with the price of better seats at another, and then to infer that the former was attended by an inferior class. At the Hope Theatre on Bankride, not far from the Globe, Ben Jonson's play of Bartholomew Fair was acted in October, 1614, and as it was built on the site of the Bear-garden there is no reason to suppose it would be attended by a more select audience than the Globe. But from the Induc¬ tion to that play it appears that the prices of admission ranged from sixpence to half a crown. ' It shall be lawful for any man to judge his six-pen'worth, his twelve-pen'worth, so to his eighteen-pence, two-shillings, half a crown, to the value of his place; provided always his place get not above PREFACE. xi his wit.' And even at the Blackfriars Theatre, which Mr. Fleay maintains must have been the house at which Henry the Eighth was performed as a new play, because the price of admission was a shilling, there were sixpenny, eighteen- penny, and two shilling places, as may be seen by the quotations given by Malone (pp. 74, 75). Nor, quite apart from the price of admission, is there sufficient reason to believe that the audience at the Globe was ' of a much lower class' than the audience at Blackfriars. From the different positions of the two theatres the audiences may well have been different, and they may have been affected by the fact that the Globe, which was partly open to the sky, was more , frequented in the summer. Malone indeed says (pp. 68,69): ' The exhibitions at the Globe seem to have been calculated chiefly for the lower class of people; those at Blackfriars, for a more select and judicious audience.' But in support of the former statement he merely offers a conjecture: ' The Globe Theatre being contiguous to the Bear-garden, when the sports of the latter were over, the same spectators probably resorted to the former.' And the only evidence to which he appeals in proof of the superior character of the Blackfriars audience is the prologue to Shirley's play of The Doubtful Heir, which was not acted till 1646. What might have been , true in 1646 was not necessarily true in 1613. It must be remembered, moreover, that the audience at the Globe had the privilege of witnessing the first per¬ formance of several of Shakespeare's plays, and could hardly have been altogether composed of such a very inferior class of spectators. If they could appreciate Romeo and Juliet and Macbeth, it is not too much to imagine that they might have been capable of understanding a spectacle play like Henry the Eighth. There appears to be no good reason, therefore, for be¬ lieving that the play, which was acted at the Globe Theatre when it was burnt to the ground in 1613, was substantially different from that which we now know by the same title. xii PREFACE. If this be so, the date of the composition is fixed, and we may conclude that the play was written not very long before June, 1613. Mr. Collier's suggestion, that the play which was acted when the Globe was burned might have been Rowley's ' When you see me you know me,' will not bear examination for a moment. It was not a new play, having been printed as long before as 1605, and it has nothing in it which corresponds in the slightest degree with the de¬ scription given by Sir Henry Wotton. But Collier, following the older commentators, Theobald, Johnson, Steevens, and Malone, held that the play of Henry the Eighth must have been written in the lifetime of Elizabeth, that is, before 24th March, 1602-3, so, of course it could not have been described as a new play ten years later. In order to carry out this theory, it was necessary to suppose that the compliments to James in the concluding scene were inserted subsequently, at some revival of the play after his accession ; and, in consequence, the lines 39-55,' Nor shall. .. wonders,' are in some editions placed in brackets. Theobald, indeed, with more consistency, regards the interpolation as extending to the end of Cranmer's speech, 1. 62. In fact, the only passage which shows clearly that the play could not have been put upon the stage during Elizabeth's lifetime has to be removed in order to make way for a preconceived theory with regard to the date. Malone, in his first edition, placed it in 1601, but he subsequently changed the year to 1603 without giving any reasons, and he conjectured that the pane¬ gyric on the king was inserted either in i6o6, the date of the colonisation of Virginia and the plantation of Ulster, or in 1612, 'when a lottery was granted expressly for the establish¬ ment of English Colonies in Virginia.' Schlegel, in his Lectures on Dramatic Art and Literature (Eng. tr. p. 439, note), says very positively, ' It is quite clear that Henry the Eighth was written while Elizabeth was still alive.' But he adds, with equal confidence, ' We know that Ben Jonson, in the reign of King James, brought the piece again on the PREFACE. xiii stage with additional pomp, and took the liberty of making several changes and additions'; and accordingly he gives to Ben Jonson the credit of the panegyric on James. So do the guesses of one writer become the facts of another. Mr. Hunter (New Illustrations of Shakespeare, ii. loi), who admits that Sir Henry Wotton's testimony is sufficient to justify Chalmers in accepting 1613 as the date of the first production of Henry the Eighth on the stage, is yet of opinion ' that there are indications in the play itself of its being an earlier work: not so early as the reign of Elizabeth, but belonging to the very first months of the reign of her successor.' The reasons which brought conviction to his mind are briefly, 'that the death of Queen Katharine was intended to be referred by the spectators to the death of Queen Elizabeth'; that the coronation of Anne Bullen ' may also have been intended to afford an opportunity for mimicking at the theatres the splendour of the real corona¬ tion of King James'; that the speech of Cranmer in the last scene was to exhibit 'the respect which rested on the memory of Elizabeth, and the hopeful anticipations which were entertained on the accession of King James'; that the habit of James to lean on his favourites' shoulders was glanced at when Henry was introduced 'leaning on the Cardinal's shoulder'; and that there is a reference in i. 2. 3 to the conspiracy of Lords Grey and Cobham in the summer of 1603, and in iv. i. 7-11 to the enthusiasm with which the citizens of London welcomed the entry of James. It is impossible not to be reminded of the striking points of resemblance between Macedon and Monmouth, Mr. Hunter appears to have been constrained to adopt the theory which he supported by these considerations, because he reflected that if the speech of Cranmer with which the play concludes is not to 'be regarded as the poetical offering of Shakespeare to King James on his accession,'' then, when the whole poetical chorus broke forth in terms of rejoicing, was Shakespeare dumb.' But he also admits that Shakespeare is not known to xiv PREFACE. have composed a single line either on the death of Elizabeth, the coronation of James, the death of Prince Henry, or the marriage of the Princess Elizabeth, and in fact that a singular reticence in regard to contemporary affairs is one of the most marked characteristics of his writings. The point thus raised has a very important bearing upon the authorship of the play, and I shall have occasion to revert to it. The late Professor Karl Elze (Essays on Shakespeare, trans, by L. Dora Schmitz), who advocated the early date of the original composition of the play, has a much more desperate theory to account for the form in which we now have it. He entertained ' no doubt that the play, with its apology for Henry, its glorification of Anne Boleyn, and its apotheosis of Elizabeth, was not only written in the reign of Elizabeth, but written expressly for her, to commemorate some festive occasion towards the end of her reign.' This occasion he finds in the seventieth anniversary of '.Anne Boleyn's public nuptials,'that is, the 12th of April, 1603; for, according to Stow, Annals (ed. 1580), p. 982, she 'wente to hir Closet openly as Queene, and was proclaymed Queene of England' on the 12th of April, 1533, 'being Easter euen.' The representation of the play was put an end to by the death of Elizabeth on the 24th of March, and it was then laid aside for ten years, and revived in 1613, when the resuscit¬ ation of Rowley's ' When you see me you know me' called the attention of the company of the Globe Theatre to 'the Shakespearean drama in their possession, which they now resolved to bring on the stage.' But to do this they had to recast it, and in this recasting Elze supposes not only that the eulogy on James was introduced, but that the scene between Katharine and the Cardinals was interpolated, and the death-scene of Katharine amplified, if not altogether added. The adapta¬ tion, he thinks, may have been the work of Fletcher or of Fletcher and Ben Jonson between them. As there is not the slightest evidence that the day of the proclamation of Anne Bullen as queen was ever observed by her daughter as a day PREFACE. XV to be kept with any special ceremony, it is a gratuitous as¬ sumption that the seventieth anniversary of that event would be marked by the performance of a play in which some in¬ cidents of her life are introduced. Besides, it would have been a very strong measure for the Globe Company to have em¬ ployed other hands to remodel a play by Shakespeare in his own lifetime, and one may be allowed to ask what kind of a play this would have been without the additions which Professor Elze supposes to have been subsequently made. With Mr. Collier's conjecture that Henry the Eighth was first performed at the coronation of Anne of Denmark, the queen of James I, on July 24th, 1603, I take leave of the various theories which have been framed in order to remove the difficulties which present themselves when an early date is claimed for the original composition and first appearance of the play. We now come to the consideration of another question, the composite authorship of the play, a question beset with far greater difficulties, inasmuch as the arguments which will have to be adduced are to some extent such as appeal to the various feelings of different individuals, and even to the varying moods of the same person. In the sixth edition of Edwards's Canons of Criticism, published in 1758, there ap¬ peared some notes on Shakespeare by Mr. Roderick, who is described as ' Fellow of Magdalen-college in Cambridge, and of the Royal and Antiquarian Societys.' This gentleman called attention to three peculiarities in the metre of Henry VIII, which no one before him appears to have observed, and which are certainly worthy of consideration, although Malone, who had no ear whatever for metre, speaks some¬ what cavalierly of them. Mr. Roderick remarks :— (1) There are in this Play many more verses than in any other, which end with a redundant syllable. (2) The caesurae, or Pauses of the verse, are full as remark¬ able. (3) The emphasis, arising from the sense of the verse, very xvi PREFACE. often clashes with the cadence that would naturally result from the metre. Malone thought that these peculiarities were due to the person who tampered with the play after it left the hands of Shakespeare; but Steevens pointed out that, if the reviver of the play or the tamperer ' had so much influence over its numbers as to have entirely changed their texture, he must be supposed to have new woven the substance of the whole piece ; a fact almost incredible.' But he previously agreed so far with Malone as to suggest that the exceptional devia¬ tions from Shakespeare's metre in this play were due either to the negligence of the author or to the interpolations of Ben Jonson. His later criticism would apply as well to his own earlier theory as to that of Malone. But the ques¬ tion did not receive anything like serious treatment till Mr. Spedding, in a paper which he contributed to The Gentleman's Magazine for August, 1850, under the title 'Who wrote Shakspere's Henry VIII?' discussed it with the thoroughness which is characteristic of all his work. I do not consider it necessary to apologize for quoting at some length from this example of what his friend Edward Fitz¬ gerald used to call his 'Virgilian prose,' because it is im¬ possible to put in a better form the thoughts which must occur to many when reading or seeing the play. After briefly recapitulating the metrical peculiarities just referred to, he continues :— 'I shall have something further to say on these points presently. I mention them here only to shew that critical observers have been long conscious of certain singularities in this play which require to be accounted for. And leaving the critics, I might probably appeal to the individual conscious¬ ness of each reader, and ask him whether he has not always felt that, in spite of some great scenes which have made actors and actresses famous, and many beautiful speeches which adorn our books of extracts (and which, by the way, lose little or nothing by separation from their context, a PREFACE. xvii most rare thing in Shakspere), the effect of this play as a whole is weak arid disappointing. The truth is that the interest, instead of rising towards the end, falls away utterly and leaves us in the last act among persons whom we scarcely know, and events for which we do not care. The strongest sympathies which have been awakened in us run opposite to the course of the action. Our sympathy is for the grief and goodness of Queen Katharine, while the course of the action requires us to entertain as a theme of joy and compensatory satisfaction the coronation of Anne Bullen and the birth of her daughter; which are in fact a part of Katharine's injury, and amount to little less than the ultimate triumph of wrong. For throughout the play the King's cause is not only felt by us, but represented to us, as a bad one. We hear, indeed, of conscientious scruples as to the legality of his first marriage; but we are not made, nor indeed asked, to believe that they are sincere, or to recognize in his new marriage either the hand of Providence, or the con¬ summation of any worthy object, or the victory of any of those more common frailties of humanity with which we can sympathize. The mere caprice of passion drives the King into the commission of what seems a great iniquity; our compassion for the victim of it is elaborately excited; no attempt is made to awaken any counter-sympathy for him : yet his passion has its way, arid is crowned with all felicity, present and to come. The effect is much like that which would have been produced by the Winter's Tale if Hermione had died in the fourth act in consequence of the jealous tyranny of Leontes, and the play had ended with the coronation of a new queen and the christening of a new heir, no period of remorse intervening. It is as if Nathan's rebuke to David had ended, not with the doom of death to the child just bom, but with a prophetic promise of the felicities of Solomon. ' This main defect is sufficient of itself to mar the effect of the play as a whole. But there is another, which though b xviii PREFACE. less vital is not less unaccountable. The greater part of the fifth act, in which the interest ought to be gathering to a head, is occupied with matters in which we have not been prepared to take any interest by what went before, and on which no interest is reflected by what comes after. The scenes in the gallery and council-chamber, though full of life and vigour, and, in point of execution, not unworthy of Shakspere, are utterly irrelevant to the business of the play; for what have we to do with the quarrel between Gardiner and Cranmer? Nothing in the play is explained by it, nothing depends upon it. It is used only (as far as the argument is con¬ cerned) as a preface for introducing Cranmer as godfather to Queen Elizabeth, which might have been done as a matter of course without any preface at all.. The scenes themselves are indeed both picturesque and characteristic and historical, and might have been introduced with excellent effect into a dramatised life of Henry VIII. But historically they do not belong to the place where they are introduced here, and poetically they have in this place no value, but the reverse. 'With the fate of Wolsey, again, in whom our second interest centres, the business of this last act does not connect itself any more than with that of Queen Katharine. The fate of Wolsey would have made a noble subject for a tragedy in itself, and might very well have been combined with the tragedy of Katharine ; but as an introduction to the festive solemnity with which the play concludes, the one seems to me as inappropriate as the other. . .. ' I know no other play in Shakspere which is chargeable with a fault like this, none in which the moral sympathy of the spectator is not carried along with the main current of action to the end. . . . The singularity of Henry VIII is that, while four-fifths of the play are occupied in matters which are to make us incapable of mirth [Prologue, 25-32], the remaining fifth is devoted to joy and triumph, and ends with universal festivity.' The strange inconsistency thus presented by the general PREFACE. xix structure of the play led Mr. Spedding, aided by a casual remark which fell from the present Laureate, 'that many passages in Henry VIII were very much in the manner of Fletcher,' to subject it to a thorough examination; the result of which was to convince him,' that at least two different hands had been employed in the composition of Henry VIII, if not three; and that they had worked, not together, but alternately, upon distinct portions of it.' It is not possible to give all the details of the argument by which Mr. Spedding arrived at this conclusion, but they may be found at full in his paper. The very natural suggestion that all these dis¬ crepancies can be accounted for by the supposition that the play may have been written by Shakespeare at different periods, that it may have been an early work, corrected and partly rewritten in later life, he regards as insufficient, for two reasons : ' First, because if he had set about the revisal of it on so large a scale in the maturity of his genius, he would have addressed himself to remove its principal defect, which is the incoherence of the general design. Secondly, because the style of those parts which upon this supposition would be referred to the earlier period does not at all re¬ semble Shakspere's style at any stage of its development.' In support of this latter conclusion he asks any one who doubts it to 'read an act in each of the following plays, taking them in succession :—Two Gentlemen of Verona; Richard II; Richard III; Romeo and Juliet; Henry IV (part 2); As You Like It; Twelfth Night; Measure for Measure; Lear; Antony and Cleopatra; Coriolanus; Winter's Tale; and then let him say at what period of Shakspere's life he can be supposed to have written such lines as these' —(quoting Buckingham's speech in ii. i. 55-78); 'If I am not much mistaken,' he adds, 'he will be convinced that Shakspere's style never passed, nor ever could have passed, through this phase. In his earlier plays, when his versifica¬ tion was regular and his language comparatively diffuse, there is none of the studied variety of cadence which we find b 2 XX PREFACE. here; and by the time his versification had acquired more variety, the current of his thought had become more gushing, rapid, and full of eddies; not to add that at no period whatever in the development of his style was the proportion of thought and fancy to words and images so small as it appears in this speech of Buckingham's.' In addition to a method which requires for its application a somewhat practised ear, Mr. Spedding suggests another test which maybe more easily applied, and which had already attracted the attention of Roderick. This is the dispropor¬ tionate number of lines in the play which end in a redundant syllable. In those parts which, for other reasons, he regards as un-Shakespearian, he finds that such lines occur in the proportion of never less than one in two, and in the greater number of scenes they are in the proportion of nearly two in three. On the other hand, ' in those parts which have the stamp of Shakspere upon them in other respects, the proportion of lines with the redundant syllable is not greater than in other of his later plays—Cymbeline, for instance, and the Winter's Tale.' The proportion in these two plays is about two to seven, and in Henry the Eighth, the scenes which Mr. Spedding regards as Shakespeare's, the proportion varies from two in five to two in seven. As the result of his investigation Mr. Spedding assigned to Shakespeare Act i. scenes i and 2; Act ii. scenes 3 and 4; Act iii. scene 2 (as fas as the exit of the King); and Act v. scene i (with altera¬ tions by another hand). To Fletcher he gave Act i. scenes 3 and 4; Act ii. scenes i and 2; Act iii. scenes i and 3 ; Act iv; and Act v. scenes 2, 3, and 4. By a remarkable coincidence it was discovered, on the appearance "of Mr. Spedding's paper, that another enquirer, Mr. Samuel Hickson, had independently arrived at the very same results, and his division of the ~ play between two authors exactly corresponded with Mr. Spedding's, except that he assigned the remainder of Act iii. scene 2, to Fletcher, and questioned the traces of a third hand in Act v. scene i. PREFACE. xxi Moreover, he confessed himself unable to explain the prin¬ ciple upon which the two authors worked, and even doubted whether Mr. Spedding was quite satisfied with the explana¬ tion he himself suggested. This was in brief as follows: that Shakespeare' had conceived the idea of a great historical drama on the subject of Henry VIII, which would have included the divorce of Katharine, the fall of Wolsey, the rise of Cranmer, the coronation of Anne Bullen, and the final separation of the English from the Romish Church';' that he had proceeded in the execution of this idea as far perhaps as the third Act, . . . when, finding that his fellows of the Globe were in distress for a new play to honour the marriage of the Lady Elizabeth with,' he handed them his unfinished work, which was then transformed by Fletcher into the spectacle play we now possess. It is obvious to object to this theory, that if the play was intended to celebrate the marriage of the Princess Elizabeth in February, 1612-13, could not have been a new play, as Sir Henry Wotton calls it, when the Globe Theatre was burnt in June of the same year; and that it was a new play on that occasion is ren¬ dered probable by the very nature of the accident which caused the fire. For such an accident was by no means unlikely to happen at a first performance, but not so likely if the play had been frequently on the stage. Apart from this explanation, however, upon which it is probable that Mr. Spedding himself would not have insisted very strongly, it seems that the conclusion at which he arrived with regard to the double authorship is irresistible, and it is confirmed by the application of other metrical tests, such as the occurrence of weak and light endings, and the omission of the pause at the end of the line, whatever value may be attached to these. But in whatever way a second author is brought in to take part in the composition of the play, whether, as Mr. Spedding suggests, for the purpose of completing what was already begun, or, as Mr. Fleay once thought, to fill up the parts which had been destroyed in the burning of the theatre. xxii PREFACE. there remains the very grave preliminary question, How is it that Shakespeare, so reticent with regard to himself, and so sparing in allusion to contemporary events, should, towards the close of his career, and in the full maturity of his genius, so far depart from all the habits and practice of his life as to select for the subject of a play a period of history, the events of which came down to within twenty years of his own birth? Mr. Hunter, as we have seen, contended that Henry the Eighth must have been written by Shakespeare soon after the death of Elizabeth in 1603, and revived for some purpose in 1613 in the reign of James, because otherwise his voice would have been silent on two most conspicuous occasions, the death of Elizabeth and the accession of James. But inasmuch as it never was heard in such circumstances, and as this reticence is so eminently characteristic of Shakespeare, the theory that the play was intended to commemorate two absolutely contemporary events should have rather led to the further question. If this be so, is it probable that Shakespeare had anything to do with it ? It is unlike all his other plays, and can hardly be called a drama at all. Without plot, without develop¬ ment, without any character on which the interest can be concentrated throughout, it is rather a series of historical scenes loosely connected together, forming a spectacle which has always been attractive on the stage, and containing many passages so consecrated by familiarity that it seems almost sacrilege to ask whether they are really so fine as they are • believed to be, and whether these ' household words' are not rather sentimental than truly pathetic. Whatever the judge¬ ment with regard to them may finally be, it is worthy of remark that they are to be found in those parts of the play which Mr. Spedding's analysis assigns to Fletcher, and they bear the stamp of those peculiarities of Fletcher's style which Charles Lamb has happily characterized in his note on a passage from The Two Noble Kinsmen. ' His ideas moved slow; his versification, though sweet, is tedious, it stops PREFACE. xxiii every moment; he lays line upon line, making up one after the other, adding image to image so deliberately that we can see where they join ; Shakspeare mingles everything, he runs line into line, embarrasses sentences and metaphors; before one idea has burst its shell, another is hatched and clamorous for disclosure' (Specimens of English Dramatic Poets, ed. 1808, p. 419). But it will be asked. If the non-Fletcherian parts of the play are not Shakespeare's, whose are they ? I confess this is a question I am not careful to answer. If they are not by Shakespeare it matters but little to whom they are as¬ signed. Those who find Shakespeare's hand in them find it also in the non-Fletcherian parts of The Two Noble Kinsmen, and if Shakespeare is responsible for these it is perhaps not impossible that he may have written those scenes of Henry the Eighth which are attributed to him. But, as in no part of The Noble Kinsmen do I catch the voice of Shakespeare speaking either to my ear or to my understanding, I am obliged to confess that the inference seems to me to be of little weight. Others will, of course, regard it as important, and that many have done so I am well aware. At the same time, as I have no desire to impose my opinion upon them, so I cannot allow their belief to out¬ weigh my own conviction. That Henry the Eighth is included in the first collected edition of Shakespeare's Works is not of itself decisive as to the authorship, because this edition also included as his The First Part of Henry the Sixth and Titus Andronicus. In his earlier dramatic career he took plays in hand which had already a kind of popularity, furbished them up, added a speech here and there, perhaps even a scene or a portion of an act, till he began to construct plays of his own, and ceased to build upon other men's foundations; but we know of no instance in which he admitted the co-operation of another writer to complete what he had himself begun. On the supposition that the manuscript of Shakespeare's xxiv PREFACE. play of Henry the Eighth was partially or entirely destroyed by the fire which consumed the Globe Theatre, and that Fletcher in the former case alone, and in the latter in con¬ junction with another, was employed to supply the missing portions, these remarks have no bearing. They apply ex¬ clusively to Mr. Spedding's theory with regard to Fletcher's intervention. In a paper which appeared in the Transactions of the New Shakspere Society, 1880-5, Mr. Robert Boyle endeavoured to prove that what is now known as Henry the Eighth ' was not written by Fletcher and Shakspere, but by Fletcher and Massinger, to supply the place of the lost Shakspere play, 'All is True, destroyed in the Globe fire of 1613, and that it was not produced before 1616, probably not till 1617.' The result of his investigation, so far as regards the part taken by Fletcher, is roughly the same as that arrived at by Mr. Spedding, except that iv. x (the coronation scene, which to Emerson seemed to be Shakespeare's autograph) is assigned to Massinger and not to Fletcher, while Massinger has a hand in i. 4, ii. i, iii. 2, and v. 3, which Mr. Spedding gives entirely to Fletcher. In such a case it is more easy to prove a negative than a positive, and while it may appear to some not sufficiently certain that Mr. Boyle has identified Massinger as the author of the parts he attributes to him, he must be allowed to have given excellent reasons for con¬ cluding that they were not written by Shakespeare. Mr. Fleay appears to have been so far influenced by Mr. Boyle's paper as to have modified his former opinion, though he still attributes i. 2 and ii. 3 and 4 to Shakespeare. The chronology of the play, as I have had frequent occasion to point out in the Notes, is hopelessly entangled. It begins in 1520, soon after the famous interview of Henry and Francis on the Field of the Cloth of Gold, but in the course of the first scene there is a reference to the seizure of the English merchants' goods at Bourdeaux in 1522, and the arrest of Buckingham is described, which took place i6th 'PREFACE. XXV April, 1521. The meeting of Henry and Anne Bullen (i. 3) could not have taken place till after 1526. In Act ii. scene i we are taken back to the time of Buckingham's execution, 17th May, 1521. In Act ii, scene 2 we have the arrival of Campeggio, who reached Canterbury ist October, 1528. The date of Act ii. scene 3 is fixed by the creation of Anne Bullen Marchioness of Pembroke, 1st September, 1532. The trial scene in Act ii. scene 3 must have been on 21st June, 1529, and it was probably in July of the same year that the queen had the interview with the cardinals which is the subject of Act iii. scene i. The rest of the Act belongs to the year 1529. The date of the first scene of Act iv, the coronation of Anne Bullen, is ist June, 1533, that of the second, the death of Katharine, 8th January, 1536. It is not certain when the appearance of Cranmer before the Council took place, which occupies the first three scenes of the fifth Act. Possibly it was in 1544 or 1545 ; Strype puts it in the former year and Dean Hook in the latter. The christening of Elizabeth, which fixes the date of the fourth and fifth scenes, takes us abruptly back to loth September 1533. In order to help to some extent to determine the complic¬ ated question of the authorship of the play, I have noted the following un-Shakespearian words and phrases. The list might be increased, but it will suffice. 'Phrase' (i. I. 34), 'office' (i. I. 44), 'going out' (i. i. 73), 'papers' (i. 1.80), 'values' (i. I. 88; ii. 3. 52), 'aboded' (i. i. 93), 'bosomup' (i. 1.112), 'outworths' (i. 1.123),'bores'(i. 1.128), 'self-mettle' (i. 1.134), 'top-proud' (i. i. 151), 'equal' adv. (i. I. 159), 'spann'd' (i. i. 223), 'solicited' (i. 2. 18), ' are in great grievance' (i. 2. 20), ' front but in that file' (i. 2. 42), 'tell steps' (i. 2. 43), 'be their acquaintance' (i. 2. 47), 'revokement' (i. 2. 106), 'ruminate on' (i. 2. 180), 'faird'= died (i. 2.184),' remember of (i. 2.190),' mountin|r his eyes' (i. 2. 205), ' mysteries' (i. 3. 2), ' a fit or two o' the face' (i. 3. 7), 'a running banquet' (i. 4. 12 ; v. 4. 59), 'viva voce' (ii. I. 18), 'perniciously' (ii. i. 5®)> 'take peace' (ii. i. 85), xxvi PREFACE. 'forsake' (ii* i* 89), *am confident'=confide (ii. i- i46l) 'conclave' (ii. 2. 98), 'unpartial' (ii. 2. 105), 'faints me' (ii. 3.103), ' considerings' (ii. 4. 185, iii. 2. 135),' use myself (iii. I. 176), 'spleeny' (iii. 2. 99), 'hard-ruled' (iii. 2. loi), 'filed' (iii. 2. 171), 'allegiant' (iii. 2. 176), 'sound'=honest (iii. 2. 274, V. 3. 81),' in open ' (iii. 2. 405), ' voice '= rumour (iii. 2. 406, iv. 2. II, V. 3. 17s), 'offer miseries' (iii. 2. 389), 'offer sorrow' (iv. i. 6), 'strains' (iv. 1.46), 'speak him' (iv. 2. 32; see ii. 4. 140, iii. i. 125), 'admit him entrance' (iv. 2. 107), 'glad'=gladden (v. i. 71; see ii. 4. 196), 'not ever' (v. i. 130), 'at what ease' (v. i. 132). It will be observed that these occur in all parts of the play, and not merely in those which Mr. Spedding assigns to Fletcher. The following extracts from the original authorities which supplied the materials for the various scenes were too long to be quoted in the Notes. Act I. Scene 4.—The original of this scene is described by an eye-witness, Wolsey's gentleman usher, George Cavendish, in his Life of the Cardinal, pp. 112-118. 'And when it pleased the king's majesty, for his recreation, to repair unto the cardinal's house, as he did divers times in the year, at which time there wanted no preparations, or goodly furniture, with viands of the finest sort that might be provided for money or friendship. Such pleasures were then devised for the king's comfort and consolation, as might be invented, or by man's wit imagined. The banquets were set forth, with masks and mummeries, in so gorgeous a sort, and costly manner, that it was a heaven to behold. There wanted no dames, or damsels, meet or apt to dance with the maskers, or to garnish the place for the time, with other goodly disports. Then was there all kind of music and harmony set forth, with excellent voices both of men and children. I have seen the king suddenly come in thither in a mask, with a dozen of other maskers, all in garments like shepherds, made of fine cloth of gold and fine crimson satin PREFACE. xxvii paned, and caps of the same, with visors of good proportion of visnomy; their hairs, and beards, either of fine gold wire, or else of silver, and some being of black silk; having sixteen torch bearers, besides their drums, and other persons attending upon them, with visors, and clothed all in satin, of the same colours. And at his coming, and before he came into the hall, ye shall understand, that he came by water to the water gate, without any noise; where, against his coming, were laid charged many chambers, and at his landing they were all shot off, which made such a rumble in the air, that it was like thunder. It made all the noblemen, laidies, and gentlewomen, to muse what it should mean coming so sud¬ denly, they sitting quietly at a solemn banquet; under this sort; First, ye shall perceive that the tables were set in the chamber of presence, banquet-wise covered, my Lord Cardinal sitting under the cloth of estate, and there having his service all alone; and then was there set a lady and a nobleman, or a gentleman and gentlewoman, throughout all the tables in the chamber on the one side, which were made and joined as it were but one table. All which order and device was done and devised by the Lord Sands, Lord Chamberlain to the king; and also by Sir Henry Guilford, Comptroller to the king. Then immediately after this great shot of guns, the cardinal desired the Lord Chamberlain, and Comptroller, to look what this sadden shot should mean, as though he knew nothing of the matter. They thereupon looking out of the windows into Thames, returned again, and showed him, that it seemed to them there should be some noblemen and strangers arrived at his bridge, as ambassadors from some foreign prince. With that, quoth the cardinal, " I shall desire you, because ye can speak French, to take the pains to go down into the hall, to receive them, according to their estates, and to conduct them into this chamber, where they shall see us, and all these noble personages sitting merrily at our banquet, desiring them to sit down with us and to take part of our fare and pastime." Then [they] went incontinent xxviii PREFACE. down into the hall, where they received them with twenty new torches, and conveyed them up into the chamber, with such a number of drums and fifes as I have seldom seen together, at one time in any masque. At their arrival into the chamber, two and two together, they went directly before the cardinal where he sat, saluting him very reverently; to whom the Lord Chamberlain for them said: "Sir, for so much as they be strangers, and can speak no English, they have desired me to declare unto your Grace thus: they, having understanding of this your triumphant banquet, where was assembled such a number of excellent dames, could do no less, under the supportation of your good grace, but to repair hither to view as well their incomparable beauty, as for to accompany them at mumchance, and then after to dance with them, and so to have of them acquaintance. And, sir, they furthermore require of your Grace licence to accom¬ plish the cause of their repair." To whom the cardinal answered, that he was very well contented they should so do. Then the maskers went first and saluted all the dames as they sat, and then returned to the most worthiest, and there opened a cup full of gold, with crowns, and other pieces of coin, to whom they set divers pieces to cast at. Thus in this manner perusing all the ladies and gentlewomen, and to some they lost, and of some they won. And thus done, they returned unto the cardinal, with great reverence, pouring down all the crowns in. the cup, which was about two hundred crowns. " At all," quoth the cardinal, and so cast the dice, and won them all at a cast; whereat was great joy made. Then quoth the cardinal to my Lord Chamberlain, "I pray you," quoth he, "show them that it seemeth me that there should be among them some noble man, whom I suppose to be much more worthy of honour to sit and occupy this room and place than I; to whom I would most gladly, if I knew him, surrender my place according to my duty." Then spake my Lord Chamberlain unto them in French, declaring my Lord Cardinal's mind, and they PREFACE. xxix rounding him, again in the ear, my Lord Chamberlain said to my Lord Cardinal, Sir, they confess," quoth he, " that among them there is such a noble personage, whom, if your Grace can appoint him from the other, he is contented to disclose himself, and to accept your place most worthily." With that the cardinal, taking a good advisement among them, at the last, quoth he, " Meseemeth that the gentleman with the black beard should be even he." And with that he arose out of his chair, and offered the same to the gentleman in the black beard, with his cap in his hand. The person to whom he offered then his chair was Sir Edward Neville, a comely knight of a goodly personage, that much more resembled the king's person in that mask, than any other. The king, hearing and perceiving the cardinal so deceived in his estimation and choice, could not forbear laughing; but plucked down his visor, and Master Neville's also, and dashed out with such a pleasant countenance and cheer, that all noble estates there assembled, seeing the king to be there amongst them, rejoiced very much. The cardinal eftsoons desired his highness to take the place of estate, to whom the king answered, that he would go first and shift his apparel; and so departed, and went straight into my lord's bed-chamber, where was a great fire made and prepared for him; and there new apparelled him with rich and princely garments. And in the time of the king's absence, the dishes of the banquet were clean taken up, and the tables spread again with new and sweet perfumed cloths; every man sitting still until the king and his maskers came in among them again, every man being newly apparelled. Then the king took his seat under the cloth of estate, commanding no man to remove, but sit still, as they did before. Then in came a new banquet before ■ the king's majesty, and to all the rest through the tables, wherein, I suppose, were served two hundred dishes or above, of wondrous costly meats and devices, subtilly devised. Thus passed they forth the whole night with banqueting, dancing, and other triumphant XXX PREFACE. devices, to the great comfort of the king, and pleasant regard of the nobility there assembled.' Act II. Scene 4.—' The place where the cardinals should sit to heare the cause of matrimonie betwixt the king and the queene, was ordeined to be at the Blacke friers in London, where in the great hall was preparation made of seats, tables, and other furniture, according to such a solemne session and roiall apparance. The court was platted in tables and benches in manner of a consistorie, one seat raised higher for the iudges to sit in. Then as it were in the midst of the said iudges aloft aboue them three degrees high, was a cloth of estate hanged, with a chaire roiall vnder the same, wherein sat the king; and besides him, some distance from him sat the queene, and vnder the iudges feet sat the scribes and other officers: the cheefe scribe was doctor Steeuens, and the caller of the court was one Cooke of Winchester. ' Then before the king and the iudges within the court sat the archbishop of Canterburie Warham, and all the other bishops. Then stood at both ends within, the counsellors learned in the spirituall laws, as well the kings as the queenes. The doctors of law for the king (whose names yee have heard before) had their conuenient roomes. Thus was the court furnished. The iudges commanded silence whilest their commission was read, both to the court and to the people assembled. That doone the scribes commanded the crier to call the king by the name of king Henrie of England, come into the court, &c. With that the king answered and said, Heere. Then called he the queene by the name of Katharine queene of England come into the court, &c. Who made no answer, but rose out of hir chaire. ' And bicause shee could not come to the king directlie, for the distance seuered betweene them, shee went about by the court, and came to the king, kneeling downe at his feet, to whome she said in effect as followeth: Sir (quoth she) PREFACE. xxxi I desire you to doo me iustice and right, and take some pitie vpon me, for I am a poore woman, and a stranger, borne out of your dominion, hauing heere no indifferent counsell, & lesse assurance of freendship. Alas sir, what haue I offended you, or what occasion of displeasure haue I shewed you, intending thus to put me from you after this sort ? I take God to my iudge, I haue beene to you a true & humble wife, euer conformable to your will and pleasure, that neuer contraried or gainesaid any thing thereof, and being alwaies contented with all things wherein you had any delight, whether little or much, without grudge or displeasure, I loued for your sake all them whome you loued, whether they were my freends or enimies. ■ ' I haue beene your wife these twentie yeares and more, & you haue had by me diuerse children. If there be anie iust cause that you can alleage against me, either of dishonestie, or matter lawfull to put me from you; I am content to depart to my shame and rebuke : and if there be none, then I praie you to let me haue iustice at your hand. The king your father was in his time of excellent wit, and the king of Spaine my father Ferdinando was reckoned one of the wisest princes that reigned in Spaine manie yeares before. It is not to be doubted, but that they had gathered as wise coun¬ sellors vnto them of euerie realme, as to their wisedoms they thought meet, who deemed the marriage betweene you and me good and lawfull, &c. Wherefore," I humblie desire you to spare me, vntill I may know what counsell my freends in Spaine will aduertise me to take, and if you will not, then your pleasure be fulfilled. With that she arose vp, making a lowe curtesie to the king, and departed from thence. ' The king being aduertised that shee was readie to go out of the house, commanded the crier to call hir againe, who called hir by these words; Katharine queene of England, come into the court. With that (quoth maister Griffith) Madame, you be called againe. On on (quoth she) it maketh no matter, I will not tarrie, go on your waies. And thus she xxxii PREFACE. departed, without anie further answer at that time, or anie other, and neuer would appeare after in anie court. The king perceiuing she was departed, said these words in effect: For as much (quoth he) as the queene is gone, I will in hir absence declare to you all, that shee hath beene to me as true, as obedient, and as conformable a wife, as I would wish or desire. She hath all the vertuous qualities that ought to be in a woman of hir dignitie, or in anie other of a baser estate, she is also surelie a noble woman borne, hir conditions will well declare the same. ' With that quoth Wolseie the cardinall: Sir, 1 most humblie require your highnesse, to declare before all this audience, whether I haue beene the cheefe and first moouer of this matter vnto your maiestie or no, for I am greatlie suspected heerein. My lord cardinall (quoth the king) I can well excuse you in this matter, marrie (quoth he) you haue beene rather against me in the tempting heereof, than a setter forward or moouer of the same. The speciall cause that mooued me vnto this matter, was a certeine scrupulositie that pricked my conscience, vpon certeine words spoken at a time when it was, by the bishop of Baion the French ambassador, who had beene hither sent, vpon the debating of a marriage to be concluded betweene our daughter the ladle Marie, and the duke of Orleance, second son to the king of Franee. 'Vpon the resolution and determination whereof, he de¬ sired respit to aduertise the king his maister thereof, whether our daughter Marie should be legitimate in respect of this my marriage with this woman, being sometimes my brothers wife. Which words once conceiued within the secret bottome of my conscience, ingendered such a scrupulous doubt, that my conscience was incontinentlie accombred, vexed, and disquieted; wherebye 1 thought my selfe to be greatlie in danger of Gods indignation. Which appeared to be (as me seemed) the rather, for that he sent vs no issue male : and all such issues male as my said wife had by me, died incontinent PREFACE. xxxiii after they came into the world, so that I doubted the great displeasure of God in that behalfe. 'Thus my conscience being tossed in the waues of a scrupulous mind, and partlie despaire to haue anie other issue than I had alredie by this ladie now my wife, it behooued me further to consider the state of this realme, and the danger it stood in for lacke of a prince to succeed me, I thought it good in release of the weightie burthen of my weake conscience, & also the quiet estate of this worthie relme, to attempt the law therin, whether I may lawfullie take another wife more lawfullie, by whome God may send me more issue, in case this my first copulation was not good, without anie camall concupiscence, and not for anie dis¬ pleasure or misliking of the queenes person and age, with whome I would be as well contented to continue, if our mariage may stand with the laws of God, as with anie woman aliue. ' In this point consisteth all this doubt that we go about now to trie, by the learning, wisedome, and iudgement of you our prelats and pastors of all this our realme and dominions now heere assembled for that purpose; to whose conscience & learning I haue committed the charge and iudgement: according to the which I will (God willing) be right well content to submit my selfe, and for my part obeie the same. Wherein, after that I perceiued my conscience so doubtfull, I mooued it in confession to you my lord of Lincolne then ghostlie father. And for so much as then you yourselfe were in some doubt, you mooued me to aske the counsell of all these my lords : wherevpon I mooued you my lord of Can- turburie, first to haue your licence, in as much as you were metropolitane, to put this matter in question, and so I did of all you my lords: to which you granted vnder your seales, heere to be shewed. That is truth, quoth the archbishop of Canturburie. After that the king rose vp, and the court was adiomed vntill another daie. ' Heere is to be noted, that the queene in presence of the c xxxiv PREFACE. whole court most greeuouslie accused the cardinal! of vntruth, deceit, wickednesse, & malice, which had sowne dissention betwixt hir and the king hir husband; and therefore openlie protested that she did vtterlie abhorre, refuse, and forsake such a iudge, as was not onelie a most malicious enimie to hir, but also a manifest aduersarie to all right and iustice, and there with did she appeale vnto the pope, committing hir whole cause to be iudged of him. But notwithstanding this app)eale, the legats sat weekelie, and euerie daie were arguments brought in on both parts, and proofes alleaged for the vnderstanding of the case, and still they assaied if they could by anie meanes procure the queene to call backe hir appeale, which she vtterlie refused to doo. The king would gladlie haue had an end in the matter, but when the legats draue time, and determined vpon no certeine point, he conceiued a suspicion, that this was doone of purpose, that their dooings might draw to none effect or conclusion.'— Holinshed, pp. 907, 908. Act m. Scene 1.—Cavendish describes this scene as an eye-witness. When the Earl of Wiltshire arrived at York Place with a message frorti the king,' My lord, having understanding of his coming, caused him to be brought unto his bed's side; and he being there, showed him what the king's pleasure was, that he should incontinent (accompanied with the other cardinal) repair unto the queen at Bridewell, into her chamber, to persuade her by their wisdoms, advising her to surrender the whole matter unto the king's hands by her own will and consent; which should be much better to her honour than to stand to the trial of law and to be condemned, which should seem much to her slander and defamation. . .. And then my lord rose up, and made him ready, taking his barge, and went straight to Bath Place to the other cardinal; and so went together unto Bridewell, directly to the queen's lodging : and they, being in her chamber of presence, showed to the gentleman usher that they came to speak with the queen's PREFACE. XXXV grace. The gentleman usher advertised the queen thereof incontinent. With that she came out of her privy chamber with a skein of white thread about her neck, into the chamber of presence, where the cardinals were giving of attendance upon her coming. At whose coming quoth she, " Alack, my lords, I am very sorry to cause you to attend upon me; what is your pleasure with me ?" " If it please you," quoth my Lord Cardinal, " to go into your privy chamber, we will show you the cause of our coming." " My lord," quoth she, " if you have any thing to say, speak it openly before all these folks; for I fear nothing that ye can say or allege against me, but that I would all the world should both hear and see it; therefore I pray you speak your minds openly." Then began my lord to speak to her in Latin. "Nay, good my lord," quoth she," speak to me in English, I beseech you; although I understand Latin." "Forsooth then," quoth my lord, "Madam, if it please your grace, we come both to know your mind, how ye be disposed to do in this matter between the king and you, and also to declare secretly our opinions and our counsel unto you, which we have intended of very zeal and obedience that we bear to your grace." "My lords, 1 thank you then," quoth she, " of your good wills; but to make answer to your request 1 cannot so suddenly, for 1 was set among my rnaidens at work, thinking full little of any such matter, wherein there needeth a longer deliberation, and a better head than mine, to make answer to so noble wise men as ye be ; 1 had need of good counsel in this case, which toucheth me so near; and for any counsel or friend¬ ship that 1 can find in England, [they] are nothing to my purpose or profit. Think you, 1 pray you, my lords, will any Englishmen counsel or be friendly unto me against the king's pleasure, they being his subjects ? Nay forsooth, my lords ! And for my counsel in whom 1 do intend to put my trust be not here; they be in Spain, in my native country. Alas, my lords! 1 am a poor woman lacking both wit and understanding sufficiently to answer such approved wise men c 2 xxxvi PREFACE. as ye be both, in so weighty a matter. I pray you to extend your good and indifferent minds in your authority unto me, for I am a simple woman, destitute and barren of friendship and counsel here in a foreign region; and as for your counsel I will not refuse but be glad to hear." ' And with that she took my lord by the hand, and led him into her privy chamber, with the other cardinal; where they were long in communication: we, in the other chamber, might sometime hear the queen speak very loud, but what it was we could not understand. The communication ended, the cardinals departed and went directly to the king, making to him relation of their talk with the queen; and after resorted home to their houses to supper.'—Life of Wolsey, pp. 226-229. Act III, Scene 2, line 26, &c.—' Whilest these things were thus in hand, the cardinall of Yorke was aduised that the king had set his affection vpon a yoong gentlewoman named Anne, the daughter of Sir Thomas Bullen vicount Rochford, which did wait vpon the queene. This was a great griefe vnto the cardinall, as he that perceiued aforehand, that the king would marie the said gentlewoman, if the diuorse tooke place. Wherfore he began with all diligence to disappoint that match, which by reason of the misliking that he had to the woman, he iudged ought to be auoided more than present death. While the matter stood in this state, and that the cause of the queene was to be heard and iudged at Rome, by reason of the appeale which by hir was put in : the cardinall required the pope by letters and secret messengers, that in anie wise he should defer the iudgement of the diuorse, till he might frame the kings mind to his purpose. ' Howbeit he went about nothing so secretlie, but that the same came to the kings knowledge, who tooke so high dis¬ pleasure with such his cloked dissimulation, that he deter¬ mined to abase his degree, sith as an vnthankfull person he forgot himselfe and his dutie towards him that had so highlie PREFACE. xxxvii aduanced him to all honor and dignitie.'—Holinshed, pp. 908, 909. Act III, Scene 2, line 124.—ThomaS Ruthall, Bishop of Durham, who was one of Henry the Eighth's Privy Council, was charged by the king ' to write a book of the whole estate of the kingdom.' 'Afterwards, the king commanded car- dinall Woolseie to go to this bishop, and to bring the booke awaie with him to deliuer to his maiestie. But see the mis¬ hap ! that a man in all other things so prouident, should now be so negligent: and at that time most forget himselfe, when (as it after fell out) he had most need to haue remem- bred himselfe. For this bishop hauing written two bookes (the one to answer the kings command, and the other in- treating of his owne private affaires) did bind them both after one sort in vellame, iust of one length, bredth, and thicknesse, and in all points in such like proportion answering one an other, as the one could not by anie especiall note be discerned from the other: both which he also laid vp togither in one place of his studie. ' Now when the cardinall came to demand the booke due to the king; the bishop vnaduisedlie commanded his seruant to bring him the booke bound in white vellame lieng in his studie in such a place. The seruant dooing accordinglie, brought foprth one of those bookes so bound, being the booke intreating of the state of the bishop, and deliuered the same vnto his maister, who receiuing it (without further consider¬ ation or looking on) gaue it to the cardinall to beare vnto the king. The cardinall hauing the booke, went from the bishop, and after (in his studie by himselfe) vnderstanding the con¬ tents thereof, he greatlie reioised, hauing now occasion (which he long sought for) offered vnto him to bring the bishop into the kings disgrace. ' Wherefoore he went foorthwith to the king, deliuered the booke into his hands, and breefelie informed the king of the contents thereof; putting further into the kings head, that if at anie time he were destitute of a masse of monie, he should xxxviii PREFACE. not need to seeke further therefore than to the cofers of the bishop, who by the tenor of his owne booke had accompted his proper riches and substance to the value of a hundred thousand pounds. Of all which when the bishop had intelli¬ gence (what he had doon, how the cardinall vsed him, what the king said, and what the world reported of him) he was striken with such greefe of the same, that he shortlie through extreame sorrow ended his life at London, in the yeare of Christ 1523.'—Holinshed, pp. 796, 797. Act III, Scene 2, line 228.—' And further, the seuen- teenth of Nouember * the king sent the two dukes of Norffolke and Suffolke to the cardinals place at Westminster, who (went as they were commanded) and finding the cardinall there, they declared that the kings pleasure was that he should surrender vp the great seale into their hands, and to depart simplie vnto Asher, which was an house situat nigh vnto Hampton court, belonging to the bishoprike of Winchester. The car¬ dinall demanded of them their commission that gaue them such authoritie, who answered againe, that they were suffi¬ cient commissioners, and had authoritie to doo no lesse by the kings mouth. Notwithstanding, he would in no wise agree in that behalfe, without further knowledge of their authoritie, saieng; that the great seale was deliuered him by the kings person, to inioy the ministration thereof, with the roome of the chancellor for the terme of his life, whereof for his suertie he had the kings letters patents. 'This matter was greatlie debated betweene them with manie great words, in so much that the dukes were faine to depart againe without their purpose, and rode to Windsore to the king, and made report accordinglie ; but the next daie they returned againe, bringing with them the kings letters. Then the cardinall deliuered vnto them the great seale, and was content to depart simplie, taking with him nothing but onelie certeine prouision for his house : and after long talke ' Stow gives it correctly ' October.' PREFACE. xxxix betweene him and the dukes, they departed with the great seale of England, and brought the same to the king.'— Holinshed, p. 909. Act IV, Scene 1.—The order of the procession at the coronation and the ceremony which followed are thus described: ' First went gentlemen, then esquiers, then knights, then the aldermen of the citie in their cloks of scarlet, after them the iudges in their mantels of scarlet and coiffes. Then followed the knights of the bath being no lords, euerie man hauing a white lace on his left sleeue, then followed barons and vicounts in their parlement robes of scarlet. After them came earls, marquesses and dukes in their robes o^ estate of crimsin veluet furred with ermine poudered according to their degrees. After them came the lord chancellor in a robe of scarlet open before, bordered with lettise: after him came the kings chapell and the moonks solemnelie singing with procession, then came abbats and bishops mitered, then sargeants and officers of armes, then after them went the maior of London with his mace and garter in his cote of armes, then went the marquesse Dorset in a robe of estate which bare the scepter of gold, and the earle of Arundell which bare the rod of iuorie with the doue both togither. ' Then went alone the earle of Oxford high chamberleine of England which bare'the crowne, after him went the duke of Suffolke in his robe of estate also for that dale being high steward of England, hauing a long white rod in his hand, and the lord William Howard with the rod of the marshal- ship, and euerie knight of the garter had on his collar of the order. Then proceeded foorth the queene in a circot and robe of purple veluet furred with ermine in hir here coiffe and circlet as she had the saturdaie, and ouer hir was borne the canopie by foure of the fiue ports, all crimsin with points of blue and red hanging on their sleeues, and the bishops of London and Winchester bare vp the laps of the" xl PREFACE. queenes robe. The queenes traine which was verie long was borne by the old duches of Norffolke: after hir folowed ladies being lords wines, which had circots of scarlet with narow sleeues, the brest all lettise with bars of borders according to their degrees, and oner that they had mantels of scarlet furred, and euerie mantell had lettise about the necke like a neckercher likewise pondered, so that by the pouderings their degree was knowen. Then followed ladies being knights wines in gownes of scarlet, with narow sleeues without traines, onlie edged with lettise, and likewise had all the queenes gentlewomen. ' When she was thus brought to the high place made in the middest of the church, betweene the queere and the high altar, she was set in a rich chaire. And after that she had rested a while, she descended downe to the high altar and there prostrate hir selfe while the archbishop of Canturburie said certeine collects: then she rose, and the bishop annointed hir on the head and on the brest, and then she was led vp againe, where after diuerse orisons said, the archbishop set the crowne of saint Edward on hir head, and then deliuered hir the scepter of gold in hir right hand, and the rod of iuorie with the doue in the left hand, and then all the queere soong Te Deum, &c. Which doone, the bishop tooke off the crowne of saint Edward being heauie and set on the crowne made for hir. Then went she to saint Edwards shrine and there offered, after which offering doone she withdrew hir into a little place made for the nones on the one side of the queere. 'Now in the meane season euerie duches had put on their bonets a coronall of gold wrought with flowers, and euerie marquesse put on a demie coronall of gold, euerie countesse a plaine circlet of gold without flowers, and euerie king of armes put on a crowne of coper and guilt, all which were wome till night. When the queene had a little reposed hir, the companie retunted in the same order that they set foorth, and the queene went crowned and so did the ladies aforesaid. PREFACE. xli Hir right hand was susteined by the earle of Wilshire hir father, and hir left hand by the lord Talbot deputie for the earle of Shrewesburie and lord Forinfall his father. Now when she was out of the sanctuarie and appeered within the palace, the trumpets plaied maruellous freshlie, then she was brought to Westminster hall, & so to hir withdrawing chamber.'—Holinshed, p. 933. Act V, Scenes 1-3.—Steevens, in his note on the entry of Sir Anthony Denny, v. i. 79, says: ' The substance of this and the two following scenes is taken from Fox's Acts and Monuments of the Christian Martyrs, &c. 1563.' Sitbse- quent commentators, without referring to the original, have quoted this as Fox's Christian Martyrs, 1563. I do not know where Steevens found the title of the book given as he has quoted it. It is not so in the hrst edition of 1563, or in the secojid of 1570; and it is in the latter that the narrative he quotes appears for the first time. It is founded upon a life of Cranmer, written by his secretary Ralph Morice for Archbishop Parker, the original MS. of which is in the library of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge. It had been used by Speght, and is published in a volume, edited by John Gough Nichols in 1859 for the Camden Society, under the title of Narratives of the Days of the Reformation, pp. 234-272. Foxe took great liberties with Morice's narrative; but, as the dramatist could only have read the story as related by Foxe, it is given here in his words. According to Morice the attempt of the prebendaries and justices of Kent to fasten a charge of heresy upon the archbishop and his chap¬ lains, and the attack made upon him by Sir John Gostwick in the House of Commons in the beginning of 1544, preceded the summons before the Privy Council which is the subject of these scenes; but Foxe completely transposes the order of events, putting the last first and the firsts last. After relating the failure of the intrigues against Cranmer in connexion with the Six Articles, he continues : 'Notwithstanding not long after that, certayn of the Coun- xlii PREFACE. sayl, whose names neede not to bee repeated, by the entisement and prouocation of his auncient enemy the bishop ofWin- chester and other of the same sect, attempted the kyng agaynst hym, declaryng plainly, that the realme was so infected with heresies and hereticks, that it was daungerous for his hyghnes farther to permyt it vnreformed, lest perad- uenture by long sufferyng, such contention should aryse and ensue in the realme among hys subiectes, that thereby might spring horrible commotions and vprores, lyk ■; as in some partes of Germany it dyd not long ago: the enormity whereof they could not impute to any so much, as to the Archbishop of Canterbury, who by hys own preachyng and hys Chapleins, had filled the whole Realme full of diuers pemitious heresies. The kyng woulde needes know hys accusers. They annswered, that forasmuch as he was a Counseller, no man durst take vp on hym to accuse hym : but if it would please his hyghnes to commit hym to the Tower for a tyme, there would be accusatios and proufes inough against him, for other- wyse iust testimonye and wytnes agaynst hym would not appeare, and therefore your highnes (sayd they) must needes geue vs the Counsail libertie and leaue to commit hym to durance. 'The king perceyuing their importune sute against the Archbishop (but yet meaning not to haue hym wronged and vtterly geuen ouer vnto their handes) graunted to them, that they should the next day comit hym to the Tower for his tryall. When night came, the king sent sir Antony Deny about midnight to Labeth to the Archbishop, willing him forthwith to resort vnto hym at the Court. The message done, the Archbishop speedely addressed hymselfe to the Court, and commyng into the Galery where the king walked and taryed for him, his hyghnes sayd: Ah my Lorde of Caun- terbury? I can tell you Newes. For dyuers waighty con¬ siderations it is determined by mee and the Counsaile, that you to morrow at .ix. of the clocke shal be committed to the Tower, for that you and your Chaplaynes (as informa- PREFACE. xliii tion is geuen vs) haue taught and preached, and thereby sowen within the Realme, such a number of execrable heresies, that it is feared, the whole Realme being infected with them, no small contentions and cSmotions will ryse thereby amongst my subiectes, as of late dayes the lyke was in diuers partes of Germany; and therefore the Counsail haue requested me for the trial of this matter, to suffer them to commit you to the Tower, or els no man dare come forth as witnes in these matters, you being a Counsellour. 'When the king had sayd his mynd, the Archbishop kneeled downe, and sayd; I am content if it please your grace, with all my hart, to go thether at your hyghnes commaundement, and I most humbly thanke your maiesty, that I may come to my triall, for there bee that haue many wayes sclaundered me, and now this way I hope to try my selfe not worthy of such a report. 'The king perceyuing the mans vprightnes, ioyned with such simplicity, sayd: Oh Lord, what maner a man be you ? what simplicity is in you? I had thought that you would rather haue sued to vs to haue taken the paynes to haue heard you and your accusers together for your triall without any such indurance. Do not you know what state you be in with y® whole world, & how many great enemies you haue ? Do you not consider what an easye thing it is to procure three or foure false knaues to wytnes against you ? Thinke you to haue better lucke that way, then your master Christ had ? I see by it, you wyll runne headlong to your vndoing, if I would suffer you. Your enemies shal not so preuayle agaynst you, for I haue otherwyse deuised with my selfe to keepe you out of their handes. Yet notwithstanding, to morrow when the Counsaile shall sit and send foryou,resorte vnto them, and if in charging you with this matter, they do commit you to the Tower : require of them, because you are one of them a Counseller, that you may haue your accusers brought before them,and that you mayaunsweretheiraccusations before them, without any further indurance, and vse for your selfe as good xHv PREFACE. persuasions that way as you may deuise, and if no intreaty or reasonable request wil serue, then deliuer vnto them this my ryng (which the the kyng deliuered vnto the Archbyshop) and say vnto them, if there be no remedy my Lordes, but that I must needes go to the Tower, then I reuoke my cause from you and appeale to the kynges own person by this hys token vnto you all, for (sayd the king then vnto the Archbyshop) so soone as they shal see this my ryng, they know it so well, that they shall vnderstand, that I haue resumed the whole cause into mine owne handes and determination, and that 1 haue discharged them therof. 'The Archbyshop perceiuyng the k)mges benignitie so- much to hym wardes, had much adoe to forbeare teares. Well, sayd the kyng, goe your wayes my Lord, and do as I haue bydden you. My Lord humblyng hym selfe with thankes, tooke hys leaue of the kynges highnes for that night. ' On the morow about ix. of the clocke before noone : the Counsaile sent a Gentleman husher for the Archbyshop, who when he came to the Counsaile chamber dore, could not be let in, but of purpose (as it semed) was compelled there to waite among the pages, lackeys, and seruyngmen all alone. Doct. Buttes the kynges Phisicion resortyng that way, and espying how my Lord of Canterbury was handled, went to the kynges hyghnes and sayd: My Lord of Cant, if it please your grace, is well promoted : for now he is become a lackey or a seruyngman, for yonder he standeth this halfe houre without the Counsaile Chamber doore amongest them. It is not so, quoth the kyng, I trow, nor the Counsaile hath not so litle discretion as to vse the Metropolitane of the Realme in that sort, specially beyng one of their owne number: but let them alone (sayd the king) and we shall here more soone. 'Anone the Archbyshop was called into the Counsaile Chamber: to whom was alledged, as before is rehearsejl. The Archbyshop aunswered in lyke sort as the kyng had PREFACE. xlv aduised hym: and in the end when he perceiued that no maner of persuasid or intreaty could serue, he deliuered to them y® kynges ryng, reuokyng his cause into the kynges handes. The whole Counsaile beyng thereat somewhat amased: the Earle of Bedford with a loude voyce confirmyng his wordes with a solemne oth, said: Whe you first began this matter, my Lordes, I told you what would come of it Do you thinke that the kyng wil suffer this mans finger to ake ? much more (I warrant you) wil he defend his life against babbling varlets. You do but comber your selues to heare tales and fables agaynst him. And so incon¬ tinently vpon the recept of the kynges token, they all rose and caryed to the kyng his ryng, surrenderyng that matter as the order and vse was, into his owne handes. ' When they were all come into the kynges presence, his hyghnes with a seuere countinace, sayd ynto them: Ah my Lordes, I thought 1 had wiser men of my Cousaile then now I finde you. What discretion was this in you, thus to make the Primate of the Realme & one of you in office, to wayte at the Counsaile Chaber dore amongest seruyng- men ? You might haue cosidered that he was a Counseller as well as you, and you had no such Commission of me so to handle him. I was content that you should try him as a Counseller, and not as a meane subiect. But now I well perceiue that thinges be done agaynst him malitiously, & if some of you might haue had your mindes, you would haue tried hym to the vttermost. But I do you all to witte, and protest, that if a Prince may be beholdyng vnto his subiect (and so solemly laying his hand vpon his brest) sayd: by the faith I owe to God, I take this man here my Lord of Caterbury, to be of all other a most faythfull subiect vnto vs, and one to whom we are much beholdyng, giuyng hym great commendacions otherwise. And with that one or ij. of the chiefest of the Counsaile, makyng their excuse, declared, that in requestyng his induraunce, it was rather ment for his triall and his purgation agaynst the common fame and xlvi PREFACE. sclaunder of the world, then for any malice conceiued agaynst him. Well, well my Lordes quoth the kyng, take him & well vse hym, as he is worthy to be, and make no more ado. And with that euery man caught him by the hand and made fayre wether of altogethers, which might easely be done with that ma.'—(pp. 2040, 2041.) Act V, Scene 5.—This is Holinshed's account of the christening of Elizabeth: ' Vpon the daie of the christening, the maior sir Stephen Peacocke, in a gowne of crimsin veluet, with his collar of SS, and all the aldermen in scarlet, with collars and chaines, and all the councell of the citie with them, took their barge after dinner, at one of the clocke, and the citizens had another barge, and so rowed to Greenwich, where were manie lords, knights, and gentlemen assembled. All the walles betweene the kings palace & the friers were hanged with arras, and all the waie strawed with greene rushes: the friers church was also hanged with arras. ' The font was of siluer, and stood in the middest of the church, three steps high, which was couered with a fine cloth, and diuerse gentlemen with apems and towels about their necks gaue attendance about it, that no filth should come in the font, ouer it hoong a square canopie of crimsin sattin, fringed with gold, about it was a raile couered with red saie: betweene the quier and the bodie of the church was a close place with a pan of fire, to make the child readie in. When all these things were ordered, the child was brought to the hall, and then euerie man set forward; first the citizens two and two, then gentlemen, esquiers and chapleins, next after them the aldermen and the maior alone: next the maior the kings councell, the kings chappell in copes : then barons, bishops, earles, then came the earle of Essex, bearing the couered basins gilt, after him the marquesse of Excester with the taper of virgin wax, next him the marquesse Dorset bearing the salt. 'Behind him the ladie Marie of Norflfolke, bearing the PREFACE. xlvii creesome which was verie rich of pearle and stone, the old dutches of Norffolke bare the child in a mantell of purple veluet, with a long traine furred with ermine. The duke of Norffolke with his marshall rod went on the right hand of the said dutches, and the duke of Suflfolke on the left hand, and befcire them went the officers of armes. The countesse of Kent bare the long traine of the childs mantell, and betweene the countesse of Kent and the child went the earle ofWilshire on the right hand, and the earle of Darbie on the left hand, supporting the said traine: in the middest ouer the said child was borne a canopie, by the lord Rochford, the lord Husee, the lord William Howard, and by the lord Thomas Howard the elder, after the child followed manie ladies and gentle¬ women. When the child was come to the church doore, the bishop of London met it with diuerse bishops and abbats mitred.'—Holinshed, p. 934. Here follow the proclamation by Garter king of arms, and the account of the christening gifts quoted from Hall in the Notes. Holinshed continues : ' Then was brought in wafers, comfets, & ipocrasse in such plentie, that euerie man had as much as he would desire. Then they set forwards, the trumpets going before in the same order towards the kings palace, as they did when they came thitherwards, sauing that the gifts that the godfather and the godmothers gaue, were borne before the child by foure persons, that is to saie. First sir John Dudleie bare the gifts of the ladie of Excester, the lord Thomas Howard the yoongerbare the gift of the ladie of Dorset, the lord Fitz- water bare the gift of the ladie of Norffolke, and the earle of Worcester bare the gift of the archbishop of Canturburie, & all the one side as they went was full of staffe torches to the number of fiue hundred, borne by the gard and other of the kings seruants, and about the child were borne manie other proper torches by gentlemen. ' In this order they brought the princesse to the Q. cham¬ ber, & tarried there a while with the maior iS: his brethren xlviii PREFACE. the aldermen, and at the last the dukes of Norffoike and Suffolke came out fro the K. thanking them hartilie, who commanded them to glue thanks in his name, which being doone with other courtesies they departed, & so went to their barges.'—Holinshed, p. 935. The quotations from Holinshed in the Preface and Notes have been made from the second edition of 1586 ; those from Hall are taken from the reprint of 1809; and those from Foxe from the edition of 1570. It has been necessary to omit about half a dozen lines from the text so as to avoid the intrusion of gratuitous coarseness. WILLIAM ALDIS WRIGHT. 12 Jan. 1891. THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE LIFE OF KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. DRAMATIS King Hekrv the Eighth. Cardinal Wolsbv. Cardinal Campeius. Capucius» Ambassador from the Em* peror Charles V. Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury. Dvke op Norfolk. Duke op Buckingham. L^ukb 'op Suffolk. Earl of Surrey. Lord Chamberlain. Lord Chancellor. Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester. Bishop of Lincoln. Lord Abergavenny. Lord Sands. Sir Henry Guildford. Sir Thomas Lovell. Sir Anthony Denny. Sir Nicholas Vaux Secretaries to Wolsey. Cromwell, Servant to Wolsey. ORimxH^ Gentleman-usher to Queen ' Katharine. I PERSONiE. Three Gentlemen. Doctor Butts, Physician to the King. Garter King*at*Arms. Surveyor to the Duke of Buckin^am. Brandon, and a Sergeant*at*Arms. Door-keeper of the Council-chamber, Porter, and his Man. Page to Gardiner. A Crier. Queen Katharine, wife to King Henry, afterwards divorced. Anne Bullen, her Maid of Honour, afterwards Queen. An old Lady, friend to Anne Bullen. Patience, woman to Queen Katharine. Several Lords and Ladies in the Dumb Shows; Women attending upon the Queen; Scribes, Officers, Guards, and other Attendants. Spirits. Scene: London; Westminster; Kimbolton. THE 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 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 B 2 KING HENRY VIII. 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 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, \^ill 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 The very persons of our noble story As they were living; think you see them great. And follow'd with the general throng and sweat Of thousand friends; then in a moment, see Mow soon this mightiness meets misery: 30 And, if you can be merry then, I'll say A man may weep upon his wedding-day ACT I. Scene I. London. An ante-cha7nber in the palace. Enter the Duke of N,orfolk at one door; at the other, the Duke of Buckingham and the Lord Abergavenny. Buck. Good morrow, and well met. How have ye done Since last we saw in France? Nor. I thank your grace, Healthful; and ever since a fresh admirer Of what I saw there. Buck. An untimely ague Stay'd me a prisoner in my chamber when ACT I. SCENE I. 3 Those suns of glory, those two lights of men, Met in the vale of Andren. 'Twixt Guynes and Arde: I was then present, saw them salute on horseback ; Beheld them, when they lighted, how they clung In their embracement, as they grew together; lo Which had they, what four throned ones could have weigh'd Such a compounded one ? Buck. All the whole time I was my chamber's prisoner. Nor. Then you lost The view of earthly glory; men might say. Till this time pomp was single, but now married To one above itself. Each following day Became the next day's master, till the last Made former wonders its. To-day the French, All clinquant, all in gold, like heathen gods. Shone down the English ; and, to-morrow, they 20 Made Britain India: every man that stood Show'd like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were As cherubins, all gilt: the madams too. Not used to toil, did almost sweat to bear The pride upon them, that their very labour Was to them as a painting now this masque Was cried incomparable ; and the 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 discemer 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 Beyond thought's compass ; that former fabulous story, Being now seen possible enough, got credit, That Bevis was believed. Buck. O, you go far. B 2 4 KING HENRY VIII. Nor. As I belong to worship and affect In honour honesty, the tract of every thing Would by a good discourser lose some life, Which action's self was tongue to. All was royal; To the disposing of it nought rebell'd. Order gave each thing view; the office did Distinctly his full functicm. Buck. Who did guide, I mean, who set the body and the limbs. Of this great sport together, as you guess? Nor. One, certes, that promises no element In such a business. Buck. I pray you, who, my lord ? Nor. All this was order'd by the good discretion Of the right reverend/^ (^ardinal of York.> Buck. 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 Take up the rays o' the beneficial sun And keep it from the earth. Nor. Surely, sir. There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends For, being not propp'd by ancestry, whose grace Chalks successors their way, nor call'd upon For high feats done to the crown; neither allied To eminent assistants ; but, spider-like. Out of his self-drawing web, he gives us note. The force of his own merit makes his way; A gift that heaven gives for him, which buys A place next to the king. Aber. • 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. ACT I. SCENE X. 5 Or has given all before, ?jid he begins A new hell in himself. Buck. Why the devil, Upon this French going out, took he upon him. Without the privity o' the king, to appoint' Who should attend on him? He makes up the file 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. Aber. I do know 80 Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that have By this so sicken'd their estates, that never They shall abound as formerly. Buck. O, many Have broke their backs with laying manors on 'em For this great journey. What did this vanity But minister communication of A most poor issue ? Nor. Grievingly I think. The peace between the French and us not values The cost that did conclude it. Buck. Every man, After the hideous storm that follow'd, 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. Nor. Which is budded out: For France hath flaw'd the league, and hath attach'd Our merchants' goods at Bourdeaux. Aber. Is it therefore The ambassador is silenced ? Nor. Marry, is't. Aber. A proper title of a peace ; and purchased At a superfluous rate! 6 KING HENRY VIII. Buck. Why, all this business Our reverend cardinal carried. Nor. Like it your grace, loo 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 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 revengeftil, and I know his sword Hath a sharp edge: it's long and, 't may be said, no 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 ^^vise your shunning. Enter Cardinal Wolsey, the ^rse 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. IVol. The Duke of Buckingham's surveyor, ha? Where's his examination? First Seer. Here, so please you Wol. Is he in person ready? First Sec. Ay, please your grace. IVol. Well, we shall then know more; and Buckingham Shall lessen this big look. [Exeunt Wolsey and his Train. Buck. This butcher's cur is venom-mouth'd, 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. Nor. What, are you chafed? .\sk God for temperance; that's the appliance only Which your disease requires. ACT I. SCENE I. 7 Buck. I read in's looks 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 the king; I'll follow and outstare him. 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 allow'd his way, Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England Can advise me like you ; be to yourself As you would to your friend. Buck. I '11 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. Nor. 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: 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. Buck. 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 To be corrupt and treasonous. Nor. Say not 'treasonous.' 8 KING HENRY VI11. Buck. To the 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 i6o 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, the interview, Thdt swallow'd so much treasure, and like a glass Did break i' the rinsing. Nor. Faith, and so it did. Buck. Pray, give me favour, sir. This cunning cardinal The articles o' the 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 the 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 To the 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 Peep'd harms that menaced him: he privily Deals with our cardinal; and, I trow,— Which I do well, for I am sure the emperor Paid ere he promised ; whereby his suit was granted Ere it was ask'd—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 ACT I. SCENE I. 9 Does buy and sell his honour as he pleases, And for his own advantage. JVor. I am sorry To hear this of him; and could wish he were Something mistaken in't. Buck. No, not a syllable: 1 do pronounce him in that very shape He shall appear in proof. 'Brandon, a Sergeant-at-anns before him., and two or three of the Guard.- Bran. Your office, sergeant; execute it. Serg. Sir, My lord the Duke of Buckingham, and Earl Of Hereford, Stafford, and Northampton, 1 200 Arrest thee of high treason, in the name Of our most sovereign king. Buck. Lo you, my lord. The net has fall'n upon me ! 1 shall perish Under device and practice. Bran. I am sorrj' To see you ta'en frorh liberty, to look on The business present: 'tis his highness' pleasure You shall to the Tower. Buck. 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 0 my Lord Abergavenny, fare you well! Bran. Nay, he must bear you company. The king YTo Abergcevenny. Is pleased you shall to the Tower, till you know How he determines further. Aber. As the duke said. The will of heaven be done, and the king's pleasure By me obey'd ! lO KING HENRY Vlll. Bran. Here is a warrant from The king to attach Lord Montacute; and the bodies Of the duke's confessor, John de la Car, One Gilbert Peck, his chancellor,— Buck. So, so; These are the limbs o' the plot: no more, I hope. 220 Bran. A monk o' the Chartreux. Buck. O, Nicholas Hopkins? Bran. He. Buck. My surveyor is false; the o er-great cardinal Hath show'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 darkening my clear sun. My lord, farewell. \Exeunl. Scene II. The same. The council-chamber. Comets. Enter the King, 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. King. My life itself, and the best heart of it, Thanks you for this great care; I stood i' the level Of a full-charged confederacy, and give thanks To you that choked it. Let be call'd before us That gentleman of Buckingham's; in person I '11 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 Queen Katharine, ushered by the Duke of Nor¬ folk, and the Duke of Suffolk ; she kneels. The King riseth from his state, takes her up, kisses and placeth her by him. Q. Kath. Nay, we must longer kneel: I am a suitor. ACT I. SCENE 11. King. Arise, and take place by us: half your suit lo Never name to us; you have half our power: The other moiety, ere you ask, is given; Repeat your will and take it. Q. Kath. 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. Q. Kath. 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 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 r not Language unmannerly, yea, such which breaks The sides of loyalty, and almost appears In loud rebellion. Nor. 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, compell'd by hunger And lack of other means, in desperate manner Daring the event to the 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? Wol. Please you, sir, 40 12 Kmo HEXRy VIII. I know but of a single part, in aught Pertains to the state; and front but in that file Where others tell steps with me. Q. Kath. 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 the hearing; and, to bear 'em, The back is sacrifice to the 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 ? Q. Kath. 1 am much too venturous In tempting of your patience; but am bolden'd Under your promised pardon. The subjects' grief Comes through commissions, which compel 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: Tongues spit their duties out, and cold hearts freeze 61 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. Wol. And for me, I have no further gone in this than by A single voice; and that not pass'd me but 70 By learned approbation of the judges. If I am Traduced by ignorant tongues, which neither know ACT I. SCENE II. 13 My faculties nor person, yet will be The chronicles of my doing, let me say 'Tis but the fate of pflace, 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 ravenous fishes, do a vessel follow That is new-trimm'd, but benefit no further 80 Than vainly longing. What we oft do best. By sick interpreters, once weak ones, is Not ours, or not allow'd; what worst, as off. 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 90 Are to be feaFd. 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' the 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 s Free pardon to each man that has denied 100 The force of this commission : pray, look to't: I put it to your care. Wol. A word with you. [ To the Secretary. 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 That through our intercession this revokement And pardon comes: I shall anon advise you Further in the proceeding. \Exit Secretary. 14 KING HENRY VIII. ^^/^r^'surveyor. Q. Kath, I am sorry that the Duke of Buckingham Is run in your displeasure. King. It grieves many: i lo The gentleman is learh'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 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 enroll'd 'mongst wonders, and when we. Almost with ravish'd 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 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. Wol. 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. Surv. 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 Abergavenny; to whom by oath he menaced Revenge upon the cardinal. IVol. Please your highness, note This dangerous conception in this point. Not friended by his wish to your high person 140 ACT I. SCENE II. 15 His will is most malignant; and it stretches Beyond you, to your friends. *Q. Kath. My leam'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? Surv. He was brought to this By a vain prophecy offeJicholas Hopkjgs^ King. What was that Hopkins ? Surv. Sir, a Chartreux friar. His confessor; who fed him every minute With words of sovereignty. King. How know'st thou this? 150 Surv. 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 sp)eech 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, 160 JHath sent to me, wishing me to permit /John de la Car._mv 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 ensued : Neither the king nor's heirs. Tell you the duke, shall prosper ; bid him strive To gain the love o' the commonalty: the duke 170 Shall govern England.' KING HENHy VIII. Q. Kath. If I know you well, You were the duke's surveyor, and lost your office On the complaint o' the 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. Surv. On my soul, I'll speak but truth. I told my lord the duke, by the devil's illusions The monk might be deceived; and that 'twas dangerous for him To ruminate on this so far, until i8o It forged him some design, which, being believed. 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? Surv. I can, my liege. King. Proceed. Surv. Being at Greenwich, After your highness had reproved the duke About Sir William Bulmer,— King. I remember 190 Of such a time : being my sworn servant. The duke retain'd him his. But on; what hence? Surv. '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 The 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' ACT I. SCENE III. 17 King. A giant traitor! Wol. Now, madam, may his highness live in freedom. And this man out of prison? King. There's something more would out of thee; what say'st ? Surv. 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 used, he would outgo His father by as much as a performance Does an irresolute purpose. King. There's his period. To sheathe his knife in us. He is attach'd ; 210 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 the height. \Exeunt. Scene III. An antechamber in the palace. Enter the Lord Chamberlauj and Lord Sands. • Cham. Is't possible the spells of France should juggle Men into such strange mysteries? Sands. New customs. Though they be never so ridiculous, Nay, let 'em be unmanly, yet are follow'd. Cham. As far as I see, all the good our English Have got by the late voyage is but merely A fit or two o' the face ; but they are shrewd ones; For when they hold 'em, you would swear directly Their very noses had been counsellors To Pepin or Clotharius, they keep state so. 10 Q. Kath. God mend all! 201 c i8 KING HENRY VIII. Sands. They have all new legs, and larne ones: one would take it, That never saw 'em pace before, the spavin Or springhalt reign'd among 'em. Cham. Death! my Lord, Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too, That, sure, they've worn out Christendom. Enter Sir Thomas Lovell. How now! What news. Sir Thomas Lovell? Lov. Faith, my lord, I hear of none, but the new proclamation That's clapp'd upon the court-gate. Cham. What is't for? Lov. The reformation of our travell'd gallants. That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors. 20 Cham. I'm glad 'tis there: now I would pray our mon- sieurs To think an English courtier may be wise. And never see the Louvre. Lov. They must either. For so run the conditions, leave those remnants Of fool and feather that they got in France, 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 blister'd 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,' wear away The lag end of their lewdness and be laugh'd at. Sands. 'Tis time to give 'em physic, their diseases Are grown so catching. ACT 1. SCENE III. 19 Cham. What a loss our ladies Will have of these trim vanities! Ay, marry, A French song and a fiddle has no fellow. Sands. The devil fiddle 'em! I am glad they are going. For, sure, there's no converting of'em: now 41 An honest country lord, as I am, beaten A long time Out of play, may bring his plain-song And have an hour of hearing; and, by 'r lady. Held current music too. Cham. Well said. Lord Sands; Your colt's tooth is not cast yet. Sands. No, my lord; Nor shall not, while I have a stump. Cham. Sir Thomas, Whither were you a-going ? Lov.' To the cardinal's: Your lordship is a guest too. Cham. O, 'tis true : This night he makes a supper, and a great one, 50 To many lords and ladies; there will be The beauty of this kingdom, I '11 assure you. Z,av. That churchman bears a bounteous mind indeed, A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us; His dews fall every where. Cham. No doubt he's noble; He had a black mouth that said other of him. Sands. He may, my lord; has wherewithal: in him Sparing would show a worse sin than ill doctrine: Men of his way should be most liberal; They are set here for examples. Cham. True, they are so; 60 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, C 2 20 KING HENRy VIII. For I was spoke to, with Sir Henry Guildford This night to be comptrollers. Sands. I am your lordship's. \Exeunt. Scene IV. A Hall in York Place. Hautboys. A small table under a state for the Cardinal, a longer table for the guests. Then enter Anne Bullen and divers other Ladies and Gentlemen as guests, at one door; at another door, enter Sir Henry Guildford. Guild. 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 As, first, good company, good wine, good welcome. Can make gpod people. O, my lord, you 're tardy : Enter Lord Chamberlain, Lord Sands, and Sir Thomas Lovell. The very thought of this fair company Clapp'd wings to me. Cham. You are young, Sir Harry Guildford. Sands. Sir Thomas Lovell, had the cardinal lo But half my lay thoughts in him, some of these Should find a running banquet ere they rested, 1 think would better please 'em : by my life. They are a sweet society of fair ones. Lov. O, that your lordship were but now confessor To one or two of these ! Sands- I would I were; They should find easy penance. Lov. Faith, how easy ? Sands. As easy as a down-bed would afford it. Cham. Sweet ladies, will it please you sit? Sir Harry, ACT J. SCENE IV. 21 Place you that side; I '11 take the charge of this: 20 His grace is entering. Nay, you must not freeze; Two women placed together makes cold weather: My Lord Sands, you are one will keep 'em waking; Pray, sit between these ladies. Sands. By my iaith. And thank your lordship. By your leave, sweet ladies: If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me; 1 had it from my father. Anne. Was he mad, sir? Sands. 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. \Kisses her. Cham. Well said, my lord. So, now you're fairly seated. Gentlemen, 31 The penance lies on you, if these fair ladies Pass away frowning. Sands. For my little cure, Let me alone. ^ Hautboys. Enter Cardinal Wolsev, and takes his state. Wol. You 're welcome, my fair guests : that noble lady. Or gentleman, that is not freely merry. Is not my friend: this, to confirm my welcome; And to you all, good health. [Drinks. Sands. Your grace is noble: Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks. And save me so much talking. Wol. My Lord Sands, 40 1 am beholding to you: cheer your neighbours. Ladies, you are not merry : gentlemen, Whose fault is this ? Sands. 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, ^My Lord Sands. 22 KTNO HENRV VIII. Sands. Yes, if 1 make my play. Here's to your ladyship: and pledge it, madam. For 'tis to such a thing,—^ Anne. You cannot show me. Sands. I told your grace they would talk anon. [Drum and trumpet, chambers discharged. Wol. What's that? Cham. Look out there, some of ye. [Exit Servant. Wol. What warlike voice, And to what end, is this? Nay, ladies, fear not; 51 By all the laws of war you're privileged. Re-enter Servant. Cham. How now ! what is't ? Serv. A noble troop of strangers; For so they seem: they've left their barge and landed; And hither make, as great ambassadors From foreign princes. Wol. 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 Chamberlain, attended. All rise, and tables removed. You have now a broken banquet; but we '11 mend it. A good digestion to you all: and once more I shower a welcome on ye; welcome all. Hautboys. Enter the 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 ? Cham. Because they speak no English, thus they pray'd To tell your grace, that, having heard by fame Of this so noble and so fair assembly ACT I. SCENE IV. 23 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, 70 Crave leave to view these ladies and entreat An hour of revels with 'em. Wol. Say, lord chamberlain, They have done my poor house grace; for which I pay'em A thousand thanks, and pray'em take their pleasures. \They choose Ladies for the dance. The King chooses Anne Bullen. King. The fairest hand I ever touch'd! O beauty. Till now I never knew thee! \Music. Dance. Wol. My lord! Cham. Your grace? Wol. 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. Cham. I will my lord. \Whispers the Masquers. Wol. What say they? Cham. Such a one, they all confess. There is indeed; which they would have your grace Find out, and he will take it. Wol. Let me see, then. By all your good leaves, gentlemen ; here I '11 make My royal choice. King. Ye have found him, cardinal; \UnmasJ:ing. You hold a fair assembly; you do well, lord: You are a churchman, or, I '11 tell you, cardinal, I should judge now unhappily. Wol. I ara glad Your grace is grown so pleasant. King. My lord chamberlain, 90 Prithee, come hither : what fair lady's that ? 24 KINO HENRY VIII. Cham. 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. Sweetheart, 1 were unmannerly, to take you out. And not to kiss you. A health, gentlemen! Let it go round. Wol. Sir Thomas Lovell, is the banquet ready r the privy chamber.? Lov. Yes, my lord. Wol. Your grace, I fear, with dancing is a little heated. loo King. I fear, too much. Wol. There's fresher air, my lord. In the next chamber. King. Lead in your ladies, every one: sweet partner, I must not yet forsake you: let's be merry. Good my lord cardinal: I have half a dozen healths 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. ACT II. Scene I. Westminster. A street. Enter two Gentlemen, meeting. First Gent. Whither away so fast ? Sec. Gent. O, God save ye! Even to the hall, to hear what shall become Of the great Duke of Buckingham. First Gent. I '11 save you That labour, sir. All's now done, but the ceremony Of bringing back the prisoner. ACT II. SCENE I. 2.5 Sec. Gent. Were you there? First Gent. Yes, indeed, was I. Sec. Gent. Pray, speak what has happen'd. First Gent. You may guess quickly what. Sec. Gent. Is he found guilty? First Gent. Yes, truly is he, and condemn'd upon't Sec. Gent. I am sorry for't. First Gent. I '11 tell you in a little. The great duke Came to the bar; where to his accusations He pleaded still not guilty and alleged Many sharp reasons to defeat the law. The kingf's attorney on the contrary Urged on the examinations, proofs, confessions Of divers witnesses; which the duke desired To have brought vivi voce to his face: At which appeaPd against him his surveyor; Sir Gilbert Peck his chancellor ; and John Car, 20 Confessor to him ; with that devil-monk, ,Hopkins, that made this mischief. Sec. Gent. That was he That fed him with his prophecies? First Gent. The same. All these accused him strongly; which he fain Would have flung from him, but, indeed, he could not: And so his peers, upon this evidence. Have found him guilty of high treason. Much He spoke, and learnedly, for life ; «but all Was either pitied in him or forgotten. Sec. Gent. After all this, how did he bear himself? 30 First Gent. When he was brought again to the bar, to hear His knell rung out, his judgement, he was stirPd First Gent. So are a number more. Sec. Gent. But, pray, how pass'd it? 10 26 KING HENRY VIII. With such an agony, he sweat extremely, And something spoke in choler, ill, and hasty: But he fell to himself again, and sweetly In all the rest show'd a most noble patience. Sec. Gent. I do not think he fears death. First Gent. Sure, he does not; He never was so womanish; the cause He may a little grieve at. Sec. Gent. Certainly The cardinal is the end of this. First Gent. 'Tis likely, 40 By all conjectures : first, Kildare's attainder. Then deputy of Ireland; who removed. Earl Surrey was sent thither, and in haste too, Lest he should help his father. Sec. Gent. That trick of state Was a deep envious one. First Gent. At his return No doubt he will requite it. This is noted. And generally, whoever the king favours. The cardinal instantly will find employment, And far enough from court too. Sec. Gent. All the commons Hate him perniciously, and, o' my conscience, 50 Wish him ten fathom deep: this duke as much They love and dote on ; call him bounteous Buckingham, The mirror of all courtesy ;— First Gent. Stay there, sir. And see the -noble ruin'd man you speak of. Enter Buckingham from his arraignment; tip-staves before him; the axe with the edge towards him; halberds on each side: accompanied with Sir Thomas Lovell, Sir Nicholas Vaux, Sir William Sands, and common people. Sec. Gent. Let's stand close, and behold him. ACT II. SCENE I. •27 Buck. All good people, You that thus far have come to pity me, Hear what I say, and then go home and lose me. I have this day received a traitor's judgement. And by that name must die: yet, heaven bear witness. And if I have a conscience, let it sink me, 60 Even as the axe falls, if I be not faithful! The law I bear no malice for my death; 'T has done, upon the premises, but justice: But those that sought it I could wish more Christians: 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 guiltless blood must cry against 'em. For further life in this world I ne'er hope. Nor will I sue, although the king have mercies 70 More than I dare make faults. You few that loved 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 sweet sacrifice. And lift my soul to heaven. Lead on, o' God's name. Lov. I do beseech your grace, for charity. If ever any malice in your heart 80 Were hid against me, now to forgive me frankly. Buck. Sir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive you As I would be forgiven: I forgive all; There cannot be those numberless offences 'Gainst me, that I cannot take peace with : no black envy Shall mark my grave. Commend me to his grace ; And, if he speak of Buckingham, pray, tell him You met him half in heaven : my vows and prayers Yet are the king's; and, till my soul forsake. Shall cry for blessings on him: may he live 90 Longer than I. have time to tell his years! 28 KING HENRY VI11. Ever beloved and loving may his rule be! And when old time shall lead him to his ei)d, Goodness and he fill up one monument! Lov. To the water side I must conduct your grace; Then give my charge up to Sir Nicholas Vaux, Who undertakes you to your end. Vaux. Prepare there, The duke is coming: see the barge be ready; And fit it with such furniture as suits The greatness of his person. Buck. Nay, Sir Nicholas, loo Let it alone; my state now will but mock me. When I came hither/1 was lord ^jgbuconstable ^d Duke-of Buckinghaoyi now, poor Edward Bohun: Yet I am richer than my base accusers, That never knew what truth meant: I now seal it; And with that blood will make 'em one day groan for't My noble father, Henry of Buckingham, Who first raised head against usurping Richard, Flying for succour to his servant Banister, Being distress'd, was by that wretch betray'd, no And without trial fell; God's peace be with him! Henry the Seventh succeeding, truly pitying My father's loss, like a most royal prince. Restored me to my honours, and, out of ruins. Made my name once more noble. Now his son, Henry the Eighth, life, honour, name and all That made me happy at one stroke has taken For ever from the world. 1 had my trial. And, must needs say, a noble one ; which makes me A little happier than my wretched father: 120 Yet thus far we are one in fortunes : both Fell by our servants, by those men we loved most, A most unnatural and faithless service! Heaven has an end in all : yet, you that hear me, This from a dying man receive as certain : Where you are liberal of your loves and counsels ACT II. SCENE I. 29 Be sure you be not loose; for those 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 130 But where they mean to sink ye. All good people. Pray for me! I must now forsake ye : the last hour Of my long weary life is come upon me. Farewell: And when you would say something that is sad. Speak how I fell. I have done ; and God forgive me! [Exeunt Duke and Train. First Gent. O, this is full of pity! Sir, it calls, I fear, too many curses on their heads That were the authors. Sec. Gent. If the duke be guiltless, 'Tis full of woe : yet I can give you inkling 140 Of an ensuing evil, if it fall, Greater than this. First Gent. Good angels keep it from us ! What may it be? You do not doubt my faith, sir? Sec. Gent. This secret is so weighty, 'twill require A strong faith to conceal it. First Gent. Let me have it; I do not talk much. Sec. Gent. I am confident; You shall, sir: did you not of late days hear A buzzing of a separation Between the king and Katharine? First Gent. Yes, but it held not: For when the king once heard it, out of anger 150 He sent command to the lord mayor straight To stop the rumour, and allay those tongues That durst disperse it. Sec. Gent. But that slander, sir. Is found a truth now : for it grows again Fresher than e'er it was ; and held for certain The king will venture at it. Either the cardinal. KING HENRY VIII. Or some about him near, have, out of malice To the good queen, possess'd him with a scruple That will undo her: to confirm this too, ■<,':arHinaL0ampeiu5^is arrived, and lately; As all think, for this business. First Gent. 'Tis the cardinal; And merely to revenge him on the emperor For not bestowing^ Jiim, at his asking, The Archbishopric of Jole^, this is purposed. Sec. Gent. I think you have hit the mark: but is't not cruel That she should feel the smart of this? The cardinal Will have his will, and she must fall. First Gent. 'Tis woful. We are too open here to argue this ; Let's think in private more. \Exeunt. Scene II. An ante-chamber in the palace. Enter the'^OKD 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 'em 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. lo Enter, to the Xord Chamberlain, 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. ACT II. SCENE II. 31 Nor. What's the cause? Cham. It seems the marriage with his brother's wife Has crept too near his conscience. ■ 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, 19 Turns what he list. The king will know him one day. Suf. Pray God he do ! he '11 never know himself else. Nor. How holily he works in all his business ! And with what zeal! for, now he has crack'd the leagfue 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 30 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 40 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 33 KING HENRY VIIJ. 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, 50 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 has 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; and the King draws, the cur¬ tain, and sits reading pensively. Suf. How sad he looks! sure, he is much afflicted. 61 King. Who's there, ha? Nor. Pray God he be not angry. King. Who's there, I say? How dare you thrust your¬ selves 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. King. Ye are too bold : Go to; I 'IL make ye know your times of business : 70 Is this an hour for temporal affairs, ha? EnterNo^SE.\iind Campeius, vnth a commission. Who's there? my good lord cardinal? O my Wolsey, ACT J I. SCENE II. 33 The quiet of my wounded conscience ; rhou art a cure fit for a king. [To Camp."] You're welcome, Most learned reverend sir, into our kingdom : Use us and it. [To JVo/.] My good lord, have great care I be not found a talker. J^oi. Sir, you cannot. I would your grace would give us but an hour Of private conference. King. [To Nor. and Su/i\ We are busy; go. 79 Nor. [Aside to Suf.\ This priest has no pride in him? Suf. [Aside to Nori\ Not to speak of: I would not be so sick though for his place : But this cannot continue. Nor. [Aside to Suf.'\ If it do, I '11 venture one have-at-him. Suf. [Aside to Nor.'\ I another. [Exeunt Norfolk and Suffolk. Wo I. 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, 90 I mean the learned ones, in Christian kingdoms Have their free voices: Rome, the nurse of judgement, invited by your noble self, hath sent One general tongue unto us, this good man. This just and learned priest, Cardinal Campeiiis ; Whom once more I present unto your highness. King. And once more in mine 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 101 I tender my commission ; by whose virtue. The court of Rome commanding, you, my lord D 34 KING HENRY VIll. Cardjnatof York, are join'd with me their servant In the unpartial judging of this business. King. Two equal men. The queen shall be acquainted Forthwith for what you come. Where's Gardiner? Wol. I know your majesty has always loved her So dear in heart, not to deny her that A woman of less place might ask by law : no Scholars allow'd freely to argue for her. King. Ay, and the best she shall have; and my fayour To him that does best^ God forbid else. Cardinal, Prithee, call Gardiner to me, my new secretary: I find him a fit fellow. j [Exit Wolsey. Re-enter^with Gardiner. Wol. [Aside to Gard.] Give me your hand : much joy and favour to you; You are the king's now. Gard. [Aside to Wol.J But to be commanded For ever by your grace, whose hand has raised me. King. Come hither, Gardiner. [Wa/hs and whispers,^ Cam. My XortL-of-York, was not one -|iSctor~Pac5^i2o 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 grieved 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; 130 For he would needs be virtuous : that good fellow, ACT II. SCENE III. 35 If I command him, follows my appointment; I will have none so near else. Learn this, brother. We live not to be griped by meaner persons. King. Deliver this with modesty to the queen. yExit Gardiner. The most convenient place that 1 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 140 So sweet a bedfellow ? But, conscience, conscience ! O, 'tis a tender place; and I must leave her. [Exeunt. Scene 111. An ante-chamber of the Queen's apartments. Enter Anne Bullen and an Old Lady. Anne. Not for that neither: here's the pang that pinches: His highness having lived so long with her, and she So good a lady that no tongue could ever Pronounce dishonour of her; by my life. She never knew harm-doing: O, now, after So many courses of the sun enthroned. Still growing in a majesty and pomp, the which To leave a thousand-fold more bitter than 'Tis sweet at first to acquire,—after this process. To give her the avaunt! it is a pity 10 Would move a monster. Old L. Hearts of most hard temper Melt and lament for her. Anne. O, God's will! much better She ne'er had known pomp : though't be temporal. Yet, if that quarrel, fortune, do divorce It from the bearer, 'tis a sufferance panging As soul and body's severing. Old L. Alas, poor lady ! She's a stranger now again. T\ '% 3^ KING HENRY VIII. Anne. So much the more Must pity drop upon her. Verily, I swear, 'tis better to be lowly born. And range with humble livers in content. Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief. And wear a golden sorrow. Old L. Our content Is our best having. Anne. By n I would not be a queen. By my troth and maidenhead. Old L. Beshrew me, I would. And venture maidenhead for't; and so would you, For all this spice of your hypocrisy : You, that have so fair parts of woman on you. Have too a woman's heart; which ever yet Affected eminence, wealth, sovereignty; Which, to say sooth, are blessings; and which gifts, 30 Saving your mincing, the capacity Of your soft cheveril conscience would receive. If you might please to stretch it. Anne. Nay, good troth. Old L. Yes, troth, and troth ; you would not be a queen ? Anne. No, not for all the riches under heaven. Old L. 'Tis strange ; a three-pence bow'd would hire me, Old as I am, to queen it: but, I pray you. What think you of a duchess ? have you limbs To bear that load of title ? Anne. No, in truth. 39 Old L. Then you are weakly made : pluck off a little; I would not be a young count in your way. For more than blushing comes to ; if your back Cannot vouchsafe this burthen, 'tis too weak Ever to get a boy. Anne. How you do talk! ACT II. SCENE III. 37 I swear again, I would not be a queen For all the world. Old L. In faith, for little England You'Id venture an emballing : I myself Would for Carnarvonshire, although there long'd No more to the crown but that. Lo, who comes here ? Enter the "^ORD CHAMBERLAIN. Cham. Good morrow, ladies. What were't worth to know The secret of your conference ? Anne. My good lord, 51 Not your demand; it values not your asking ; Our mistress' sorrows we were pitying. Cham. It was a gentle business, and becoming The action of good women; there is hope All will be well. Anne. Now, 1 pray God, amen! Cham. You bear a gentle mind, and heavenly blessings Follow such creatures. That you may, fair lady, Perceive I speak sincerely, and high note's Ta'en of your many virtues, the king's majesty 60 Commends his good opinion of you, and Does purpose honour to you no less flowing Than Marchioness of Pembroke ; to which title A thousand pound a year, annual support, Out of his grace he adds. Anne. I do not know What kind of my obedience I should tender; More than my all is nothing ; nor my prayers Are not words duly hallow'd, nor my wishes More worth than empty vanities ; yet prayers and wishes Are all 1 can return. Beseech your lordship, 70 Vouchsafe to speak my thanks and my obedience, As from a blushing handmaid, to his highness; Whose health and royalty I pray for. Cham. Lady, 38 KING HENRY VIII. I shall not fail to approve the fair conceit The king hath of you. I have perused her well; Beauty and honour in her are so mingled That they have caught the king : and who knows yet But from this lady may proceed a gem To lighten all this isle? I'll to the king, And say I spoke with you. Lord Chamberlain. Anne. My honour'd lord. 80 Old L. Why, this it is; see, see ! I have been begging sixteen years in court. Am yet a courtier beggarly, nor could Come pat betwixt too early and too late P'or any suit of pounds; and you, O fate! A very fresh fish here—fie, fie, fie upon This compell'd fortune!—have your mouth fill'd up Before you open it. Anne. This is strange to me. Old L. How tastes it? is it bitter? forty pence, no. There was a lady once, 'tis an old story, 90 That would not be a queen, that would she not, For all the mud in Egypt: have you heard it ? Anne. Come, you are pleasant. , Old L. With your theme, I could O'ermount the lark. The Marchioness of Pembroke! A thousand pounds a year for pure respect! No other obligation! By my life. That promises moe thousands: honour's train Is longer than his foreskirt. By this time I know your back will bear a duchess : say, Are you not stronger than you were? Anne. Good lady, 100 Make yourself mirth with your particular fancy. And leave me out on't. Would I had no being. If this salute my blood a jot: it faints me. To think what follows. The queen is comfortless, and we forgetful ACT II. SCENE IV. 39 In our long absence: pray, do not deliver What here you've heard to her. Old L. What do you think me ? \Exeunt. Scene IV. A hall in Black-Friars. Trumpets, sennet, and cornets. Enter two Vergers, with short silver wands j next them, two''^^ibes, in the habit of doctors J after them, the Archbishop of Canterbury alone; after him, M^'^ishops of Lin¬ coln, Ely, Rochester, and Saint Asaph ; next them, with some small distance, follows a Gentleman bearing the purse, with the great seal, and a cardinal's hat; then two P^riests, Fearing each a silver cross; then a bare-headed, accompanied with a Sergeant-at-arms bearing a silver mace; then two Gentlemen bearing two great silver pillars; after them, side by side, the two Cardinals ; two N ohlemen with the sword and mace. The King takes place under the cloth of state; the two Cardinals sit under him as judges. The Queen takes place some distance from the King. The Bishops place themselves on each side the court, in manner of a consistory; below them, the Scribes. The Lords sit next the Bishops. The rest of the Attendants stand in convenient order about the stage. IVol. Whilst our commission from Rome is read. Let silence he commanded. King. What's the need ? It hath already publicly been read. And on all sides the authority allow'd; You may, then, spare that time. Wol. Be't so. Proceed. Scribe. Say, Henry King of England, come into the court. Crier. Henry King of England, &c. King. Here. 4° KING HENRY VIII. Scribe. Say, Katharine Queen of England, come into the court. lo Crier. Katharine Queen of England, &c. \The Queen makes no answer, rises out of her chair, goes about the court, comes to the King, and kneels at his feet; then speaks. Q. Kath. Sir, I desire you do me right and justice ; And to bestow your pity on me: for I am a most poor woman, and a stranger, Born out of your dominions; having here No judge indifferent, nor no more assurance Of equal friendship and proceeding. Alas, sir. In what have I offended you? what cause Hath my behaviour given to your displeasure, That thus you should proceed to put me off, 20 And take your good grace from me? Heaven witness, I have been to you a true and humble wife, At all times to your will conformable; Ever in fear to kindle your dislike. Yea, subject to your countenance, glad or sorrj' As I saw it inclined: when was the hour I ever contradicted your desire. Or made it not mine too? Or which of your friends Have I not strove to love, although I knew He were mine enemy ? what friend of mine 30 That had to him derived your anger, did I Continue in my liking? nay, gave notice He was from thence discharged ? Sir, call to mind That I have been your wife, in this obedience. Upward of twenty years, and have been blest With many children by you: if, in the course And process of this time, you can report. And prove it too, against mine honour aught, My bond to wedlock, or my love and duty, Against your sacred person, in God's name, 40 Turn me away; and let the foul'st contempt Shut door upon me, and so give me up ACT II. SCENE IV. 41 To the sharp'St kind of justice. Please you, sir, The king, your father, was reputed for A prince most prudent, of an excellent ••^nd unmatch'd wit and judgement; Ferdinand, My father, king of Spain, was reckon'd one The wisest prince that there had reign'd by many A year before: it is not to be question'd That they had gathePd a wise council to them 50 Of every realm, that did debate this business. Who deem'd our marriage lawful: wherefore I humbly Beseech you, sir, to spare me, till 1 may Be by my friends in Spain advised; whose counsel I will implore : if not, i' the name of God, Your pleasure be fulfill'd ! Wol. You have here, lady. And of your choice, these reverend fathers; men Of singular integrity and learning. Yea, the elect o' the land, who are assembled To plead your cause: it shall be therefore bootless 60 That longer you desire the court; as well For your own quiet, as to rectify What is unsettled in the king. Cam. His grace Hath spoken well and justly: therefore, madam, It's fit this royal session do proceed; And that, without delay, their arguments Be now produced and heard. Q. Kath. Lord cardinal, To you I speak. Wol. Your pleasure, madam? Q. Kath. Sir, I am about to weep : but, thinking that We are a queen, or long have dream'd so, certain 70 The daughter of a king, my drops of tears I '11 turn to sparks of fire. Wol. Be patient yet. 42 KING HENRY VIII. Q. Kath. I will, when you are humble ; nay, before. Or God will punish me. I do believe. Induced by potent circumstances, that You are mine enemy, and make my challenge You shall not be my judge: for it is you Have blown this coal betwixt my lord and me; Which God's dew quench! Therefore I say again, I utterly abhor, yea, from my soul 80 Refuse you for my judge ; whom, yet once more, I hold my most malicious foe, and think not At all a fnend to truth. Wol. I do profess You speak not like yourself; who ever yet Have stood to charity, and display'd the effects Of disposition gentle, and of wisdom O'ertopping woman's power. Madam, you do me wrong: I have no spleen against you; nor injustice For you or any: how far I have proceeded. Or how far further shall, is warranted 9° By a commission from the consistory. Yea, the whole consistory of Rome. You charge me That I have blown this coal: I do deny it: The king is present: if it be known to him That I gainsay my deed, how may he wound. And worthily, my falsehood! yea, as much As you have done my truth. If he know That I am free of your report, he knows I am not of your wrong. Therefore in him It lies to cure me : and the cure is, to 100 Remove these thoughts from you : the which before His highness shall speak in, I do beseech You, gracious madam, to unthink your speaking And to say so no more. Q. Kath. My lord, my lord, I am a simple woman, much too weak To oppose your cunning. You're meek and humble-mouth'd; You sign your place and calling, in full seeming. ACT II. SCEyE IV. 43 With meekness and humility; but your heart Is cramm'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride. You have, by fortune and his highness' favours, no Gone slightly o'er low. steps and now are mounted » Where powers are your retainers, and your words. Domestics to you, serve your will as't please Yourself pronounce their office. I must tell you. You tender more your person's honour than Your high profession spiritual; that again I do refuse you for my judge ; and here. Before you all, appeal unto the pope. To bring my whole cause 'fore his holiness. And to be judged by him. \Ske curtsies to the King, and offers to depart. Cam. The queen is obstinate, 120 Stubborn to justice, apt to accuse it, and Disdainful to be tried by't: 'tis not well. She's going away. King. Call her again. Crier. Katharine Queen of England, come into the court. Grif. Madam, you are call'd back. Q. Kath. What need you note it ? pray you, keep your way: When you are call'd, return. Now, the Lord help. They vex me past my pj^tience! Pray you, pass on : I will not tarry ; no, nor ever more 130 Upon this business my appearance make In any of their courts. \Exeunt Queen, and her Attendants. King. Go thy ways, Kate ; That man i' the world who shall report he has A better wife, let him in nought be trusted, F or speaking false in that: thou art, alone. If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness. Thy meekness saint-like,- wife-like government, Obeying in commanding, and thy parts Sovereign-and piotts-.else,—eeuld-speak thee eut, 44 KING HENRV VIII. The queen of earthly queens : she's noble born; 140 And, like her true nobility, she has Carried herself towards me. Wol. Most gracious sir. In humblest manner I require your highness, That it shall please you to declare, in hearing Of all these ears,—for where I am robb'd and bound. There must I be unloosed, although not there At once and fully satisfied,—whether ever I Did broach this business to your highness; or Laid any scruple in your way, which might Induce you to the question on't? or ever 150 Have to you, but with thanks to God for such A royal lady, spake one the least word that might Be to the prejudice of her present state,- Or touch of her good person ? King. My lord cardinal, I do excuse you; yea, upon mine honour, I free you from 't. You are not to be taught That you have many enemies, that know not Why they are so, but, like to village-curs. Bark when their fellows do: by some of these The queen is put in anger. You're excused : 160 But will you be more justified? you ever Have wish'd the sleeping of this business; never desired It to be stirr'd; but oft have hinder'd, oft. The passages made toward it: on my honour, I speak my good lord cardinal to this point. And thus far clear him. Now, what moved me to't, I will be bold with time and your attention : Then mark the inducement Thus it came; give heed to't: My conscience first received a tenderness. Scruple, and prick, on certain speeches utter'd 170 By the Bishop of Bayonne, then French ambassador; Who had been hither sent on the debating A marriage 'twixt the Duke, of Orleans and Our daughter Mary : i' the progress. of this business. ACT II. SCENE IV. 4,5 Ere a determinate resolution, he, I mean the bishop, did require a respite; Wherein he might the king his lord advertise Whether our daughter were legitimate, Respecting this our marriage with the dowager, Sometimes our brother's wife. This respite shook i8o The bosom of my conscience, enter'd me, Yea, with a splitting power, and made to tremble The region of my breast; which forced such way. That many mazed considerings did throng And press'd in with this caution. First, methought I stood not in the smile of heaven; who had Commanded nature, that my lady's womb. If it conceived a male child by me, should Do no more offices of life to't than The grave does to the dead ; for her male issue 190 Or died where they were made, or shortly after This world had aiFd them : hence I took a thought, This was a judgement on me; that my kingdom. Well worthy the best heir o' the world, should not Be gladded in't by me : then follows, that I weigh'd the danger which my realms stood in By this my issue's fail; and that gave to me Many a groaning throe. Thus hulling in The wild sea of my conscience, I did steer Toward this remedy, whereupon we are 200 Now present here together; that's to say, I meant to rectify my conscience,—which I then did feel full sick, and yet not well,— By all the reverend fathers of the land And doctors leam'd : first I began in private With you, my Lord of Lincoln ; you remember How under my oppression I did reek. When I first moved you. Lin. Very well, my liege. King. I have spoke long : be pleased yourself to say How far you satisfied me. 46 KING HENRY VIII. Lin. So please your hi 2IO The question did at first so stagger me, Bearing a state of mighty moment in't And consequence of dread, that I committed The daring'st counsel which I had to doubt; And did entreat your highness to this course Which you are running here. King. I then moved you. My Lord of Canterbury; and got your leave To make this present summons : unsolicited I left no reverend person in this court; But by particular consent proceeded 220 Under your hands and seals : therefore, go on; For no dislike i' the world against the person Of the good queen, but the sharp thorny points Of my alleged reasons, drive this forward : Prove but our marriage lawful, by my life And kingly dignity, we are contented To wear our mortal state to come with her, Katharine our queen, before the primest creature That's paragon'd o' the world. Cam. So please your highness. The queen being absent, 'tis a needful fitness 2J0 That we adjourn this court till further day : Meanwhile must be an earnest motion Made to the queen, to call back her appeal She intends unto his holiness. King. [ylsitie] I may perceive These cardinals trifle with me : I abhor This dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome. My leam'd and well-beloved servant, Cranmer, Prithee, return: with thy approach, I know. My comfort comes along.—Break up the court: 239 I say, set on. [Kxeuni in manner as they entered. ACT I IT. SCENE I. 47 T ACT III. Scene I. London. The Queen's apartments. Knter the Queen and her Women, as at work. Q. Kath. Take thy lute, wench : my soul grows sad with troubles; Sing, and disperse 'em, if thou canst: leave working. Song. Orpheus with his lute made trees. And the mountain tops that freeze. Bow themselves when he did sing: To his music plants and flowers Ever sprung; as sun and showers There had made a lasting spring. Every thing that heard him play. Even the billows of the sea, 10 Hung their heads, and then lay by. In sweet music is such art. Killing care and grief of heart Fall asleep, or hearing, die. Enter a Gentleman. Q, Kath, How now! Gent. An't please your grace, the two great cardinals Wait in the presence. Q. Kath. Would they speak with me ? Gent. They will'd me say so, madam. Q. Kath. Pray their graces To come near. \Exit Gent.'\ What can be their business With me, a poor weak woman, fall'n from favour? 20 I do not like their coming. Now I think on't, 48 KING HENRV VIII. They should be good men; their affairs as righteous : But all hoods make not monks. Enter the /7e'<7"'Cardinals, wolsey and Campeius. Wol. Peace to your highness! Q. Kath. Your graces find me here part of a housewife, I would be all, against the worst may happen. What are your pleasures with me, reverend lords ? Wol. May it please you, noble madam, to withdraw Into your private chamber, we shall give you The full cause of our coming. Q,. Kath. Speak it here ; There's nothing I have done yet, o' my conscience, 30 Deserves a comer : would all other women Could speak this with as free a soul as I do! My lords, I care not, so much I am happy Above a number, if my actions Were tried by every tongue, every eye saw 'em. Envy and base opinion set against 'em, I know my life so even. If your business Seek me out, and that way I am wife in. Out with it boldly: truth loves open dealing. Wol. Tanta est erga te mentis integritas, regina serenissima,— 41 Q. Kath. O, good my lord, no Latin ; ^ I am not such a truant since my coming. As not to know the language I have lived in ; A strange tongue makes my cause more strange, suspicious ; Pray, speak in English : here are some will thank you. If you speak truth, for their poor mistress' sake ; Believe me, she has had much wrong : lord cardinal, The willing'st sin I ever yet committed May be absolved in English. Wol. Noble lady, 50 I am Sony my integrity should breed. And service to his majesty and you. So deep suspicion, where all faith was meant. ACT III. SCENE I. 49 We come not by the way of accusation,"^ To taint that honour every good tongue blesses, Nor to betray you any way to sorrow, You have too much, good lady; but to know How you stand minded in the weighty difference Between the king and you; and to deliver. Like free and honest men, our just opinions 60 And comforts to your cause. Cam. Most horiour'd madam. My Lord of York, out of his noble nature. Zeal and obedience he still bore your grace. Forgetting, like a good man, your late censure Both of his truth and him, which was too far. Offers, as I do, in a sign of peace. His service and his counsel. Q. Kath. \Aside\ To betray me.— My lords, I thank you both for your good wills; Ye speak like honest men; pray God, ye prove so! But how to make ye suddenly an answer, 70 In such a point of weight, so near mine honour,— Mor^ near my life, I fear,—with my weak wit. And to such men of gravity and learning. In truth, I know not. I was set at work Amtrng my maids ; full little, God knows, looking Either for such men or such business. For her sake that I have been,—for I feel The last fit of my greatness,—good your graces. Let me have time and counsel for my cause: Alas, I am a woman, friendless, hopeless ! 80 Wol. Madam, you wrong the king's love with these fears : Your hopes and friends are infinite. Q. Kath. In England But little for my profit; can you think, lords. That any Englishman dare give me counsel ? Or be a known friend, gainst his highness' pleasure. Though he be grown so desperate to be honest. And live a subject ? Nay, forsooth, my friends, E 50 KING HENRV VIII. They that must weigh out my afflictions, They that my trust must grow to, live not here : They are, as all my other comforts, far hence 90 In mine own country, lords. Cam. 1 would your grace Would leave your griefs, and take my counsel. Q. Kath. How, sir ? Cam. Put your main cause into the king's protection; He's loving and most gracious: 'twill be much Both for your honour better and your cause; For if the trial of the law o'ertake ye. You'll part away disgraced. Wol. He tells you rightly. Q. Kath. Ye tell me what ye wish for both,—my ruin: Is this your Christian counsel? out upon ye ! Heaven is above all yet; there sits a judge 100 That no king can corrupt. Cam. Your rage mistakes us. Q. Kath. The more shame for ye : holy men I thought ye. Upon my soul, two reverend cardinal virtues ; But cardinal sins and hollow hearts I fear ye ; Mend 'em, for shame, my lords. Is this your comfort r The cordial that ye bring a wretched lady, A woman lost among ye, laugh'd at, scom'd ? I will not wish ye half my miseries ; I have more charity : but say, I warn'd ye; Take heed, for heaven's sake, take heed, lest at "once The burthen of my sorrows fall upon ye. 111 Wol. Madam, this is a mere distraction; You turn the good we offer into envy. Q. Kath. Ye turn me into nothing: woe upon ye And all such false professors ! would ye have me— If you have any justice, any pity; If ye be any thing but churchmen's habits— Put my sick cause into his hands that hates me ? ACT III. SCENE I. 51 Alas, has banish'd me his bed already, His love, too long ago! I am old, my lords, 120 And all the fellowship I hold now with him Is only my obedience. What can happen To me above this wretchedness ? all your studies Make me a curse like this. Cam. Your fears are worse. Q. Kath. Have I lived thus long—let me speak myself. Since virtue finds no friends—a wife, a true one? A woman, I dare say without vain-glory. Never yet branded with suspicion ? Have I with all my full affections Still met the king ? loved him next heaven ? obey'd him ? Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him? 131 Almost forgot my prayers to content him? And am I thus rewarded ? 'tis not well, lords. Bring me a constant woman to her husband. One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure; And to that woman, when she has done most. Yet will I add an honour, a great patience. Wol. Madam, you wander from the good we aim at. <2. Kath. My lord, I dare not make myself so guilty. To give up willingly that noble title 140 Your master wed me to: nothing but death Shall e'er divorce my dignities. Wol. Pray, hear me. Q. Kath. Would 1 had never trod this English earth. Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it! Ye have angels' faces, but heaven knows your hearts. What will become of me now, wretched lady I I am the most unhappy woman living. Alas, poor wenches! where are now your fortunes ? Shipwreck'd upon a kingdom, where no pity. No friends, no hope; no kindred weep for me; 150 Almost no grave allow'd me: like the lily. That once was mistress of the field and flourish'd, I '11 hang my head and perish. 52 KING HKNRY VIII. IVol. If your grace Could but be brought to know our ends are honest, You'Id feel more comfort: why should we, good lady. Upon what cause, wrong you ? alas, our places. The way of our profession is against it : We are to cure such sorrows, not to sow 'em. For goodness' sake consider what you do; How you may hurt yourself, ay, utterly 160 Grow from the king's acquaintance, by this carriage. The hearts of princes kiss obedience. So much they love it; but to' stubborn spirits They swell, and grow as terrible as storms. I know you have a gentle, noble temper, A soul as even as a calm: pray, think us Those we profess, peace-makers, friends, and servants. Cam. Madam, you'll find it so. You wrong your virtues With these weak women's fears : a noble spirit. As yours was put into you, ever casts 170 Such doubts, as false coin, from it. The king loves you; Beware you lose it not : for us, if you please To trust us in your business, we are ready To use our utmost studies in your service. Q. Kath. Do what ye will, my lords : and, pray, forgive me. If 1 have used myself unmannerly; You know 1 am a woman, lacking wit To make a seemly answer to such persons. Pray, do my service to his majesty : He has my heart yet; and shall have my prayers 180 While 1 shall have my life. Come, reverend fathers, Bestow your counsels on me : she now begs. That little thought, when she set footing here, She should have bought her dignities so dear. [Exeunt. ACT III. SCENE II. 53 Scene II. Ante-chamber to the King's apartment. ^Enter the Duke of Norfolk, /A^^uke of Suffolk, the Earl of Surrey, and the^ovco Chamberlain. Nor. If you will now unite in your complaints, And force them with a constancy, the cardinal Cannot stand under them : if you omit The offer of this time, I cannot promise But that you shall sustain moe new disgraces. With these you bear already. Sur. I am joyful To meet the least occasion that may give me Remembrance of my father-in-law, the duke. To be revenged on him. Suf. Which of the peers Have uncontemn'd gone by him, or at least lo Strangely neglected? when did he regard The stamp of nobleness in any person Out of himself? Cham. My lords, you speak your pleasures: What he deserves of you and me I know; What we can do to him, though now the time Gives way to us, I much fear. If you cannot Bar his access to the king, never attempt Any thing on him; for he hath a witchcraft Over the king in's tongue. Nor. O, fear him not; His spell in that is out: the king hath found 20 Matter against him that for ever mars The honey of his language. No, he's settled. Not to come off, in his displeasure. Sur. Sir, I should be glad to hear such news as this Once every hour. Nor. BeKeve it, this is true : In the divorce his contrary proceedings 54 KING HENRV VIU. Are all unfolded; wherein he appears As I would wish mine enemy. Sur. His practices to light ? Suf. Most strangely. How came Sur. O, how, how? Suf. The cardinal's letters to the pope miscarried, go And came to the eye o' the king : wherein was read, / How that the cardinal did entreat his holiness To stay the judgement o' the divorce ; for if It did take place, ' I do,' quoth he, ' perceive My king is tangled in affection to A creature of the queen's. Lady Anne Bullen.' Sur. Has the king this? Suf. Believe it. Sur. Will this work Chain. The king in this perceives him, how he coasts And hedges his own way. But in this point All his tricks founder, and he brings his physic 40 After his patient's death : the king already Hath married the fair lady. Sur. Would he had ! Suf. May you be happy in your wish, my lord For, I profess, you have it. Sur. Now, all my joy Trace the conjunction ! Suf. My amen to't! Nor. All men's! Suf. There's order given for her coronation : Marry, this is yet but young, and may be left To some ears unrecounted. But, my lords, She is a gallant creature, and complete In mind and feature : I persuade me, from her 50 Will fall some blessing to this land, which shall In it be memorized. ACT III. SCENE II. 55 Stir. But, will the king Digest this letter of the cardinal's ? The Lord forbid ! Nor. Marry, amen ! Nor. Suf. No, no; There be moe wasps that buzz about his nose Will make this sting the sooner. Cardinal Campeius Is stol'n away to Rome; hath ta'en no leave; Has left the cause o' the king unbundled; and Is posted, as the agent of our cardinal. To second all his plot. I do assure you 6© The king cried Ha ! at this. Cham. Now, God incense him. And let him cry Ha ! louder ! Nor. But, my lord. When returns'^ranmi^ Suf. He is return'd in his opinions; which Have satisfied the king for his divorce. Together with all famous colleges Almost in Christendom : shortly, I believe. His second marriage shall be publish'd, and Her coronation. Katharine no more Shall be call'd queen, but princess dowager 70 And widow to Prince Arthur. Nor. This same /Cranmer-^ A worthy fellow, and hath ta'en much pain In the king's business. Suf. He has ; and we shall see him For it an archbishop. Nor. So I hear. Suf. The cardinal! 'Tis so. Enter Wolsev and Cromwell. Nor. Observe, observe, he's moody. Wol. The packet, Cromwell, Gave't you the king? 56 KING HENRY VTII. Crom. To his own hand, in's bedchamber. Wol, Look'd he o' the inside of the paper? Crom. He did unseal them : and the first he view'd, He did it with a serious mind ; a heed Was in his countenance. You he bade Attend him here this morning. Presently 80 Wol. To come abroad ? Crom. I think, by this he is. Is he ready Wol. Leave me awhile. \Exit Cromwell. \Aside'\ It shall be to the Duchess of Alen5on, The French king's sister: he shall marry her. Anne Bullen! No; I'11 no Anne Bullens for him: There's more in't than fair visage. Bullen ! 5sfo, we'll no Bullens. Speedily I wish To hear from Rome. The Marchioness of Pembroke ! 90 Nor. He's discontented. Suf. May be, he hears the king Does whet his anger to him. Sur. Sharp enough. Lord, for thy justice ! Wol. [Asl{le] The late queen's gentlewoman, a knight's daughter, To be her mistress' mistress ! the queen's queen ! This candle bums not clear : 'tis I must snuff it; Then out it goes. What though I know her virtuous And well deserving? yet I know her for A spleeny Lutheran; and not wholesome to Our cause, that she should lie i' the bosom of 100 Our hard-ruled king. Again, there is sprung up An heretic, an arch one, Cranmer; one Hath crawl'd into the favour of the king, And is his oracle. Nor. He is vex'd at something. ACT III. SCENE II. 57 Sur. I would 'twere something that would fret the string, The master-cord on's heart! Enter the King, reading of a schedule, and Lovell. Suf. The king, the king ! King., What piles of wealth hath he accumulated To his own portion ! and what expense by the hour Seems to flow from him ! How, i' the name of thrift. Does he rake this together! Now, my lords, no Saw you the cardinal? Nor. My lord, we have Stood here observing him : some strange commotion Is in his brain : he bites his lip, and starts; Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground. Then lays his finger on his temple; straight Springs out into fast gait; then stops again, Strikes his breast hard, and anon he casts His eye against the moon: in most strange postures We have seen him set himself. King. It may well be ; There is a mutiny in's mind. This morning 120 Papers of state he sent me to peruse. As I required : and wot you what I found There,—on my conscience, put unwittingly? Forsooth, an inventory, thus importing; The several parcels of his plate, his treasure, Rich stuffs, and ornaments of household; which I find at such proud rate, that it out-speaks Possession of a subject. Nor. It's heaven's will: Some spirit put this paper in the packet, To bless your eye withal. King. If we did think 130 His contemplation were above the earth, And fix'd on spiritual object, he should still Dwell in his musings: but I am afraid 58 KING HKNRV VIII. His thinkings are below the moon, not worth His serious considering. [King takes his seat; whispers Lovelly who goes to the Cardinal. Wot. Heaven forgive me ! Ever God bless your highness I King. Good my lord, You are full of heavenly stuff, and bear the inventory Of your best graces in your mind; the which You were now running o'er; you have scarce time To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span 140 To keep your earthly audit: sure, in that I deem you an ill husband, and am glad To have you therein my companion. Wot. Sir, For holy offices I have a time; a time To think upon the part of business which I bear i' the state ; and nature does require Her times of preservation, which perforce I, her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal. Must give my tendance to. King. You have said well. Wot. And ever may your highness yoke together, 150 As I will lend you cause, my doing well With my well saying! King. 'Tis well said again; And 'tis a kind of good deed to say well: And yet words are no deeds. My father loved you: He said he did; and with his deed did crown His word upon you. Since I had my office, I have kept you next my heart; have not alone Employ'd you where high profits might come home. But pared my present havings, to bestow My bounties upon you. Wol. \Aside\ What should this mean? 160 Sur. \Aside\ The Lord increase this business! ACT III. SCENE II. 59 ^tttg. Have I not made you The prime man of the state ? I pray you, tell me, If what I now pronounce you have found true: And, if you may confess it, say withal. If you are bound to us or no. What say you? IVol. My sovereign, I confess your royal graces, Shower'd on me daily, have been more than could My studied purposes requite; which went Beyond all man's endeavours; my endeavours Have ever come too short of my desires, 170 Yet filed with my abilities : mine own ends Have been mine so that evermore they pointed To the good of your most sacred person and The profit of the state. For your great graces Heap'd upon me, poor undeserver, I Can nothing render but allegiant thanks. My prayers to heaven for you, my loyalty. Which ever has and ever shall be growing. Till death, that winter, kill it. King. Fairly answerid ; A loyal and obedient subject is 180 Therein illustrated: the honour of it Does pay the act of it; as, i' the contrary. The foulness is the punishment. I presume That, as my hand has open'd bounty to you. My heart dropp'd love, my power rain'd honour, more On you than any; so your hand and heart. Your brain, and every function of your power. Should, notwithstanding that your bond of duty. As 'twere in love's particular, be more To me, your friend, than any. Wol. I do profess 190 That for your highness' good I ever labourid More than mine own; that am, have, and will be— Though all the world should crack their duty to you, And throw it from their soul ; though perils did Abound, as thick as thought could make 'em, and 6o KING HENRY VIII. Appear in forms more horrid,—yet my duty, As doth a rock against the chiding flood. Should the approach of this wild river break. And stand unshaken yours. King. 'Tis nobly spoken : Take notice, lords, he has a loyal breast, 200 For you have seen him open't. Read o'er this; [Giving him papers. And after, this: and then to breakfast with What appetite you have. [Exit King, frowning upon Cardinal Wolsey; the Nobles throng after him, smiling and whispering. Wol. What should this mean? What sudden anger's this? how have I reap'd it? He parted frowning from me, as if ruin Leap'd from his eyes: so looks the chafed lion Upon the daring huntsman that has gall'd him; Then makes him nothing. I must read this paper; I fear, the story of his anger. 'Tis so; This paper has undone me; 'tis the account 210 Of all that world of wealth I have drawn together For mine own ends; indeed, to gain the popedom. And fee my friends in Rome. O negligence! Fit for a fool to fall by : what cross devil Made me put this main secret in the packet I sent the king ? Is there no way to cure this ? No new device to beat this from his brains? I know 'twill stir him strongly; yet I know A way, -if it take right, in spite of fortune Will bring me off again. What's this? 'To the Pope!' 220 The letter, as I live, with all the business I writ to's holiness. Nay then, farewell! I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness ; And, from that full meridian of my glory, I haste now to my setting : I shall fall Like a bright exhalation in the evening. And no man see me more. ACT III. SCENE IT. 61 Re-enter t^o\s&\, the Dukes of Norfolk Suffolk, the Earl of Surrey, and /A^Eord Chamberlain. Nor. Hear the king's pleasure, cardinal: who commands you To render up the great seal presently Into our hands; and to confine yourself 230 To Asher House, my Lord of Winchester's, Till you hear further from his highness. Wol. Stay: Where's your commission, lords ? words cannot carry Authority so weighty. Suf. Who dare cross 'em. Bearing the king's will from his mouth expressly? Wol. Till I find ttiore than will or words to do it, I mean your malice, know, officious lords, I dare and must deny it. Now I feel Of what coarse metal ye are moulded, envy ; How eagerly ye follow my disgraces, 240 As if it fed ye ! and how sleek and wanton Ye appear in every thing may bring my ruin ! Follow your envious courses, men of malice; You have Christian warrant for 'em, and, no doubt. In time will find their fit rewards. That seal. You ask with such a violence, the king. Mine and your master, with his own hand gave me ; Bade me enjoy it, with the place and honours. During my life; and, to confirm his goodness. Tied it by letters-patents : now, who '11 take it ? 250 Sur. The king, that gave it. Wol. It must be himself, then. Sur. Thou art a proud traitor, priest. Wol. Proud lord, thou liest: Within these forty hours Surrey durst better Have burnt that tongue than said so. Sur. Thy ambition. Thou scarlet sin, robb'd this bewailing land 62 KING HENRY VIII. Of noble Buckingham, my father-in-law : The heads of all thy brother cardinals, With thee and all thy best parts bound together, Weigh'd not a hair of his. Plague of your policy ! Far from his succour, from the king, from all That might have mercy on the fault thou gavest him ; Whilst your great goodness, out of holy pity. Absolved him with an axe. This talking lord can lay upoh my credit, I answer is most false. The duke by law Found his deserts: how innocent I was From any private malice in his end. His noble jury and foul cause can witness. If I loved many words, lord, I should tell you 270 You have as little honesty as honour, That in the way of loyalty and truth Toward the king, my ever royal master. Dare mate a sounder man than Surrey can be. And all that love his follies. Sur. By my soul. Your long coat, priest, protects you; thou shouldst feel My sword i' the life-blood of thee else. My lords, Can ye endure to hear this arrogance? And from this fellow ? If we live thus tamely. To be thus jaded by a piece of scarlet, 280 Farewell nobility; let his grace go forward. And dare us with his cap like larks. WoL All goodness Is poison to thy stomach. Sur. Yes, that goodness Of gleaning all the land's wealth into one. Into your own hands, cardinal, by extortion; The goodness of your intercepted packets You writ to the pope against the king: your goodness, . Since you provoke me, shall be most notorious. You sent me deputy for Ireland; 260 Wol. This, and all else ACT 111. SCENE II. 63 My Lord of Norfolk, as you are truly noble, As you respect the common good, the state 290 Of our despised nobility, our issues. Who, if he live, will scarce be gentlemen, Produce the grand sum of his sins, the articles Collegted from his life. I '11 startle you Worse than the sacring bell, when the brown wench Lay kissing in your arms, lord cardinal. Wol. How much, methinks, I could despise this man. But that I am bound in charity against it! Nor. Those articles, my lord, are in the king's hand: But, thus much, they are foul ones. Wol. So much fairer 300 .\nd spotless shall my innocence arise. When the king knows my truth. Sur. This cannot save you : I thank my memory, I yet remember Some of these articles; and out they shall. Now, if you can blush and cry 'guilty,' cardinal. You'll show a little honesty. Wol. Speak on, sir; I dare your worst objections : if I blush. It is to see a nobleman want manners. Sur. I had rather want those than my head. Have at you! First, that, without the king's assent or knowledge, 310 You wrought to be a legate ; by which power .You maim'd the jurisdiction of all bishops. Nor. Then, that in all you writ to Rome, or else To foreign princes, 'Ego et Rex meus' Was still inscribed; in which you brought the king To be your servant. Suf. Then that, without the knowledge Either of king or council, when you went Ambassador to the emperor, you made bold To carry into Flanders the great seal. 64 KING HENRY VIII. Sur. Item, you sent a large commission 320 To Gregory de Cassado, to conclude, Without the kingf's will or the state's allowance, A league between his highness and Ferrara. Suf. That, out of mere ambition, you have caused Your holy hat to be stamp'd on the king's coin. • Sur. Then that you have sent innumerable substance— By what means got, I leave to your own conscience— To furnish Rome, and to prepare the ways You have for dignities; to the mere undoing Of all the kingdom. Many more there are ; 330 Which, since they are of you, and odious, I will not taint my mouth with. Cham. O my lord. Press not a falling man too far! 'tis virtue : His faults lie open to the laws; let them. Not you, correct him. My heart weeps to see him So little of his great self. Sur. I forgive him. Suf. Lord cardinal, the king's further pleasure is. Because all those things you have done of late. By your power legatine, within this kingdom, Fall into the compass of a praemunire, 340 That therefore such a writ be sued against you ; To forfeit all your goods, lands, tenements, Chattels, and whatsoever, and to be Out of the king's protection. This is my charge. Nor. And so we '11 leave you to your meditations How to live better. For your stubborn answer About the giving back the great seal to us. The king shall know it, and, no doubt, shall thank you. So fare you well, my little good lord cardinal. \Exeunt all but Wolsey. Wol. So farewell to the little good you bear me. 350 Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man : to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hopes ; to-morrow blossoms. ACT in. SCENE IT. <55 And bears his blushing honours thick upon him ; The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And, when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root. And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured. Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders. This many summers in a sea of glory, 360 But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride At length broke under me and now has left me. Weary and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye : I feel my heart new open'd. O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to. That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin. More pangs and fears than wars or women have : 370 And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again. Enter CROMWELL, and stands amazed. Why, how now, Cromwell! Crom. I have no power to speak, sir. Wol. What, amazed At my misfortunes ? can thy spirit wonder A great man should decline? Nay, an you weep, I am fall'n indeed. Crom. How does your grace ? Wol. Why, well Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell. I know myself now; and I feel within me A peace above all earthly dignities, 379 A still and quiet conscience. The king has cured me, I humbly thank his grace ; and from these shoulders. These ruin'd pillars, out of pity, taken A load would sink a navy, too much honour : F 66 KTNG HENRV VITI. O, 'tis a burden, Cromwell, 'tis a burden Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven ! Crom. I am glad your grace has made that right use of it. IVol. I hope I have : I am able now, methinks, Out of a fortitude of soul I feel. To endure more miseries and greater far Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer. 390 What news abroad ? Crom. The heaviest and the worst Is your displeasure with the king. Wol. God bless him! y Crom. The next is, that Sj^ Thomas^ More-4s_£hosen T.ord chancellor in your place. Wol. That's somewhat sudden : But he's a learned man. May he continue Long in his highness' favour, and do justice For truth's sake and his conscience ; that his bones. When he has run his course and sleeps in blessings, May have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on 'em I What more? * 400 Crom. That-Cranmer is retum'd jvith welcome, Install'd lord ^rchbisho^^f Canterbui^ Wol. That's news indeed. Crom. Last, that the Lady Anne, Whom the king hath in secrecy long married, This day was view'd in open as his queen, Going to chapel; and the voice is now Only about her coronation. Wol. There was the weight that pull'd me down. O Cromwell, The king has gone beyond me : all my glories In that one woman I have lost for ever: 410 No sun shall ever usher forth mine honours, Or gild again the noble troops that waited Upon my smiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell; ACT III. SCFNE II. 67 I am a poor fall'n man, unworthy now To be thy lord and master : seek the king ; That sun, I pray, may never set! I have told him What and how true thou art; he will advance thee; Some little memory of me will stir him— I know his noble nature—not to let Thy hopeful service perish too : good Cromwell, 420 Neglect him not; make use now, and provide For thine own future safety. Crom. O my lord. Must I, then, leave you ? must I needs forgo So good, so noble and so true a master? Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron. With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord. The king shall have my service; but my prayers For ever and for ever shall be yours. Wol. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries; but thou hast forced me, 430 Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. Let's dry our eyes : and thus far hear me, Cromwell; And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be. And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me more must be heard of, say, I taught thee. Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory. And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour. Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in; A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it. Mark but my fall, and that that ruin'd me. 440 Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition : By that sin fell the angels ; how can man, then. The image of his Maker, hope to win by it ? Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee : Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, [To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not : Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's. Thy God's, and truth's ; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, F 2 68 KING HENRY VIII. Thou fall'st a blessed martyr! Serve the king ; 45° And,—prithee, lead me in : There take an inventory of all I have. To the last penny; 'tis the king's ; my robe. And my integrity to heaven, is all I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell! Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies. Crom. Good sir, have patience. Wol. So I have. Farewell The hopes of court! my hopes in heaven do dwell. 460 \Exeunt. ACT IV. Scene I. A street in Westminster. Enter two Gentlemen, fneeting one another. First Gent. You're well met once again. Sec. Gentr So are you. First Gent. You come to take your stand here, and behold The Lady Anne pass from her coronation? Sec. Gent. 'Tis all my business. At our last encounter. The Duke of Buckingham came from his trial. First Gent. 'Tis very true : but that time offered sorrow ; This, general joy. Sec. Gent. 'Tis well: the citizens, I am sure, have shown at full their royal minds— As, let 'em have their rights, they are ever forward— In celebration of this day with shows, 10 Pageants and sights of honour. First Gent. Never greater. Nor, I'll assure you, better taken, sir. ACT IV. SCENE 1. 69 Sec. Gent. May I be bold to ask what that contains, That paper in your hand ? Of those that claim their offices this day By custom of the coronation. The Duke of Suffolk is the first, and claims To be high-steward; next, the Duke of Norfolk, He to be earl marshal: you may read the rest. Sec. Gent. I thank you, sir: had I not known those customs, 20 I should have been beholding to your paper. But, I beseech you, what's become of Katharine, The princess dowager ? how goes her business ? First Gent. That I can tell you too. The Archbishop Of Canterbury, accompanied with other Learned and reverend fathers of his order. Held a late court at Dunstable, six miles off From Ampthill where the princess lay; to which She was often cited by them, but appeared not; And, to be short, for not appearance and 30 The king's late scruple, by the main assent Of all these learned men she was divorced. And the late marriage made of none effect; ' Since which she was removed to Kimbolton, Where she remains now sick. Sec. Gent. Alas, good lady ! [ Trumpets. The trumpets sound : stand close, the queen is coming. \Hautboys. 1. A lively flourish of Trumpets. 2. Then, two Judges. 3. Lord Chancellor, witl^ the purse and mace before him. 4. Choristers, singing. {Music. 5. Mayor of London, bearing the mace. Then Garter, in his coat of arms, an.i on his head a gilt copper crovjn. First Gent. Yes; 'tis the list he Order of the Coronation. 70 KING HENRY Vlll. 6. Marquess Dorset, bearing a sceptre of gold, on his head a detni-coronal of gold. With him, the Earl of Surrey, bearing the rod of silver with the dove, crowned with an earPs coronet. Collars of SS. 7. Duke of Suffolk, in his robe of estate, his coronet on his head, bearing a long white wand, as high- steward. With him, the Duke of .NORFOLK, with the rod of marshalship, a coronet on his head. Collars of SS. 8. A canopy borne by four of the Cinque-ports : under it, the Queen in her robe; in her hair, richly adorned with pearl, crowned. On each side her, the Bishops of London and Winchester. 9. The old Duchess of Norfolk, in a coronal of gold, wrought with flowers, bearing the Queen's train. id. Certain Ladies or Countesses, with plain circlets oj gold without flowers. [They pass over the stage in order and state. Sec. Gent. A royal train, believe me. These I know: Who's that that bears the sceptre? First Gent. Marquess Dorset: And that the Earl of Surrey, with the rod. Sec. Gent. A bold brave gentleman. That should be The Duke of Suffolk? First Gent. 'Tis the same: high-steward. 41 See. Gent. And that my Lord of Norfolk? First Gent. Yes. Sec. Gent. Heaven bless thee! [Looking on the Queen. Thou hast the sweetest face I ever look'd on. Sir, as I have a soul, she is an angel; Our king has all the Indies in h'.s arms, And more and richer, when he strains that lady: I cannot blame his conscience. First Gent. 1 hey that bear ACT IV. SCENE /. 71 The cloth of honour over her, are four barons Of the Cinque-ports. Sec. Gent. Those men are happy; and so are all are near her. 50 I take it, she that carries up the train Is that o'.d noble lady. Duchess of Norfolk. First Gent. It is ; and all the rest are countesses. Sec. Gent. Their coronets say so. These are stars indeed; And sometimes falling ones. First Gent. No more of that. [Exit procession, and then a great flourish offlrumpets. Enter a third Gentleman. First Gent. God save you, sir! where have you been broiling ? Third Gent. Among the crowd i' the Abbey; where a finger Could not be wedged in more: I am stifled With the mere rankness of their joy. Sec. Gent. You saw The ceremony ? Third Gent. That I did. First Gent. How was it ? 60 Third Gent. Well worth the seeing. Sec. Gent. Good sir, speak it to us. Third Gent. As well as I am able. The rich stream Of lords and ladies, having brought the queen To a prepared place in the choir, fell off A distance from her; while her grace -sat down To rest awhile, some half an hour or so. In a rich chair of state, opposing freely The beauty of her person to the people. Believe me, sir, she is the goodliest woman That ever lay by man : which when the people 70 Had the full view of, such a noise arose As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest. 72 KING HENRr VIII. As loud, and to as many tunes : hats, cloaks,— Doublets, I think,—flew up ; and had their faces Been loose, this day they had been lost. Such joy I never saw before. Great-bellied women. That had not half a week to go, like rams In the old time of war, would shake the press. And make 'em reel before 'em. No man living Could say 'This is my wife' there; all were woven 80 So strangely in one piece. Sec. Gent. But, what follow'd ? Third Gent. At length her grace rose, and with modest paces Came to the altar; where she kneel'd, and saint-like Cast her fair eyes to heaven and pray'd devoutly. Then rose again and bow'd her to the people: When by the Archbishop of Canterbury She had all the royal makings of a queen; As holy" oil, Edward Confessor's crown. The rod, and bird of peace, and all such emblems Laid nobly on her: which perform'd, the choir, 90 With all the choicest music of the kingdom. Together sung 'Te Deum.' So she parted. And with the same full state paced back again To York-place, where the feast is held. First Gent. Sir, You must no more call it York-place, that's past; For, since the cardinal fell, that title's lost: 'Tis now the king's, and call'd Whitehall. Third Gent. I know it; But 'tis so lately alteFd, that the old name Is fresh about me. Sec. Gent. What two reverend bishops Were those that went on each side of the queen? 100 Third Gent. Stokesly and Gardiner; the one of Win¬ chester, Newly preferr'd from the king's secretary, The other, London. ACT IV. SCEl^E II. 73 Sec. Gent. He of Winchester Is held no great good lover of the archbishop's, The virtuous Cranmer. Third Gent. All the land knows that; However, yet there is no great breach; when it comes, Cranmer will find a friend will not shrink from him. Sec. Gent. Who may that be, I pray you? Third Gent. Thomas Cromwell; ^ man in much esteem with the king, and truly A worthy friend. The king has made him master no O' the jewel house. And one, already, of the privy council. Sec. Gent. He will deserve more. Third Gent. Yes, without all doubt. Come, gentlemen, ye shall go my way, which Is to the court, and there ye shall be my guests : Something I can command. As I walk thither, 1 '11 tell ye more. Both. You may command us, sir. [Exeunt. Scene II. Kimbolton. Enter Katharine, Dowager, sick; led between Griffith, lurgentleman usher, and Patience, her woman. Grif. How does your grace? Kath. O Griffith, sick to death! My legs, like loaden branches, bow to the earth. Willing to leave their burthen. Reach a chair: So ; now, methinks, I feel a little ease. Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou led'st me. That the great child of honour. Cardinal Wolsey, Was dead ? Grif. Yes, madam ; but 1 think your grace, Out of the pain you suffer'd, gave no ear to't. Kath. Prithee, good Griffith, tell me how he died ; 74 KIKG HENRV VIII. If well, he stepp'd before me happily For my example. Grif. Well, the voice goes, madam : 10 For after the stout Earl Northumberland Arrested him at York, and brought him forward, As a man sorely tainted, to his answer. He fell sick suddenly, and grew so ill He could not sit his mule. Kath. Alas, poor man! Grif. At last, with easy roads, he came to Leicester, Lodged in the abbey; where the reverend abbot. With all his covent, honourably received him; To whom he gave these words,'O, father abbot, 20 An old man, broken with the storms of state. Is come to lay his weary bones among ye; Give him a little earth for chjirity!' So went to bed; where eagerly his sickness Pursued him still: and, three nights after this, About the hour of eight, which he himself Foretold should be his last, full of repentance. Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows. He gave his honours to the world again. His blessed part to heaven and slept in peace. 30 Kath. So may he rest; his faults lie gently on him! Yet thus far, Griflfith, give me leave to speak him. And yet with charity. He was a man Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking Himself with princes; one that, by suggestion. Tied all the kingdom : simony was fair-play; His own opinion was his law: i' the presence He would say untruths ; and be ever double Both in his words and meaning: he was never. But where he meant to ruin, pitiful: 40 His promises were, as he then was, mighty; But his performance, as he is now, nothing: Of his own bodv he was ill, and gave ACT IV. SCENE II. 75 Grif. Noble madam, Men's evil manners live in brass; their virtues We write in water. May it please your highness To hear me speak his good now? Kath. Yes, good Griffith ; I were malicious flse. Grif. This cardinal. Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly • Was fashion'd to much honour from his cradle. 50 He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one ; Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and persuading: Lofty and sour to them that loved him not; But to those men that sought him sweet as summer. And though he were unsatisfied in getting, Which was a sin, yet in bestowing, madam, He was most princely : ever witness for him Those twins of learning that he raised in you, Ipswich and Oxford! one of which fell with him. Unwilling to outlive the good that did it; 60 The other, though unfinish'd, yet so famous. So excellent in art, and still so rising. That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue. His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him ; For then, and not till then, he felt himself. And found the blessedness of being little : And, to add greater honours to his age Than man could give him, he died fearing God. Kath. After my death I wish no other herald. No other speaker of my living actions, 70 To keep mine honour from corruption. But such an honest chronicler as Griffith. Whom I most hated living, thou hast made me, With thy religious truth and modesty. Now in his ashes honour; peace be with him! Patience, be near me still; and set me lower: I have not long to trouble thee. Good Griffith, Cause the musicians play me that sad note 76 KING HENRY VIII. I named my knell, whilst I sit meditating On that celestial harmony I go to. 80 [Sad and solemn music. Grif. She is asleep : good wench, let's sit down quiet, P'or fear we wake her: softly, gentle Patience. The vision. Enter, solemnly tripping one^ after another, six- personages, clad in white robes, wearing on their heads garlands of bays, and golden vizards on their faces; branches of bays or palm in their hands. They first congee unto her, then dance; and, at certain changes, the first two hold a spare garland over her head; at which the other four make reverent curtsies; then the tiOo that held the garland deliver the same to the other next two, who observe the safne order in their changes, and holding the garland over her head: which done, they deliver the same garland to the last two, who likewise observe the same order; at which, as it were by inspiration, she Makes in her sleep signs of rejoicing, and holdeth up her hands to heaven : and so in their dancing vanish, carrying the garland with them. The music continues. Kath. Spirits of peace, where are ye? are ye all gone. And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye ? • Grif Madam, we are here. Kath. It is not you I call for: Saw ye none enter since I slept? Grif None, madam. Kath. No? Saw you not, even now, a blessed troop Invite me to a banquet; whose bright faces Cast thousand beams upon me, like the sun? They promised me eternal happiness; 90 And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel I am not worthy yet to wear: I shall, assuredly. Grif. I am most joyful, madam, such good dreams Possess your fancy. Kath. Bid the music leave. They are harsh and heavy to me. [Music ceases. ACT IV. ■ SCENE J J. 77 Pat. Do you note How much her grace is alter'd on the sudden? How long her face is drawn 1 how pale she looks, And of an earthy cold ! Mark her eyes! Grif. She is going, wench : pray, pray. Pat. Heaven comfort her! Enter a Messenger. Mess. An't like your grace,— Kath. You are a saucy fellow; Deserve we no more reverence? Grif. You are to blame, loi Knowing she will not lose her wonted greatness. To use so rude behaviour; go to, kneel. Mess. I humbly do entreat your highness' pardon; My haste made me unmannerly. There is staying A gentleman, sent from the king, to see you. Kath. Admit him entrance, Griffith: but this fellow Let me ne 'er see again. \Exeunt Griffith and Messenger. Re-enter Griffith, with If my sight fail not. You should be lord ambassador from the emperor. My royal nephew, and your name^^nc^ no Cap. Madam, the same ; your servant. Kath. O, my lord. The times and titles now are alter'd strangely With me since first you knew me. But, I pray you, What is your pleasure with me ? Cap. Noble lady, P'irst, mine own service to your grace; the next. The king's request that I would visit you; Who grieves much for your weakness, and by me Sends you his princely commendations, And heartily entreats you take good comfort. Kath. O my good lord, that comfort comes too late; 78 KING HENRY VIII. 'Tis like a pardon after execution; 121 That gentle physic, given in time, had cured me; But now I am past all comforts here, but prayers. How does his highness? Cap. Madam, in good health. Kath. So may he ever do! and ever flourish, When I shall dwell with worms, and my poor name Banish'd the kingdom! Patience, is that letter, 1 caused you write, yet sent away? Pat. No, madam. [Giving it to Katharine. Kath. Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliver This to my lord the king. Cap. Most willing, madam. 130 Kath. In which I have commended to his goodness The model of our chaste loves, his young daughter; The dews of heaven fall thick in blessings on her! Beseeching him to give her virtuous breeding,— She is young, and of a noble modest nature, I hope she will deserve well,—and a little To love her for her mother's sake, that loved him. Heaven knows how dearly. My next poor petition Is, that his noble grace would have some pity Upon my wretched women, that so long 140 Have follow'd both my fortunes faithfully : Of which there is not one, 1 dare avow. And now I should not lie, but will deserve. For virtue and true beauty of the soul. For honesty and decent carriage, A right good husband, let him be a noble: And, sure, those men are happy that shall have 'em. The last is, for my men; they are the poorest. But poverty could never draw 'em from me ; That they may have their wages duly paid 'em, 150 And something over to remember me by: If heaven had pleased to have given me longer life And able means, we had not parted thus. ACT V. SCENE 1. 79 These are the whole contents : and, good my lord, By that you love the dearest in this world. As you wish Christian peace to souls departed. Stand these poor people's friend, and urge the king To do me this last right. Cap. By heaven, I will. Or let me lose the fashion of a man! Kath. I thank you, honest lord. Remember me i6o In all humility unto his highness ; Say his long trouble now is passing Out of this world; tell him, in death I bless'd him. For so I will. Mine eyes grow dim. Farewell, My lord. Griffith, farewell. Nay, Patience, You must not leave me yet: I must to bed; Call in more women. When I am dead, good wench. Let me be used with honour: strew me over With maiden flowers, that all the world may know I was a chaste wife to my grave : embalm me, 170 Then lay me forth : although unqueen'd, yet like A queen, and daughter to a king, inter me. I can no more. \Exeunt, leading Katharine. ACT V. Scene I. London. A gallery in the palace. £'«/'«r*ijARDiNER, Bishop of Winchester, a Page with a torch before him, met by Sir Thomas Lovell. Gar. It's one o'clock, boy, is't not? It hath struck. Gar. These should be hours for necessities, Not for delights; times to repair our nature With. comforting repose, and not for us To waste these times. Good hour of night. Sir Thomas! Whither so late? 8o KING HENRY VIII. Lov. Came you from the king, my lord? Gar. I did, Sir Thomas; and left him at primero With the Duke of Suffolk. Lov. I must to him too. Before he go to bed. I'll take my leave. Gar. Not yet. Sir Thomas Lovell. What's the matter? It seems you are in haste: an if there be ii No great offence belongs to't, give your friend Some touch of your late business: affairs, that walk, As they say spirits do, at midnight, have In them a wilder nature than the business That seeks dispatch by day. Lov. My lord, I love you; And durst commend a secret to your ear Much weightier than this work. The queen's in labour. They say, in great extremity; and fear'd She'll with the labour end. Gar. The fruit she goes with 20 I pray for heartily, that it may find Good time, and live: but for the stock. Sir Thomas, I wish it grubb'd up now. Lov. Methinks I could Cry the amen; and yet my conscience says She's a good creature, and, sweet lady, does Deserve our better wishes. Gar. But, sir, sir. Hear me. Sir Thomas: you 're a gentleman Of mine own way; I know you wise, religious; And, let me tell you, it will ne'er be well, 'Twill not. Sir Thomas Lovell, take't of me, 30 Till Cranmer, Cromwell, her two hands, and she. Sleep in their graves. Lov. Now, sir, you speak of two The most remark'd i' the kingdom. As for Cromwell, Beside that of the jewel house, is made master C the rolls, and the king's secretary; further, sir. ACT V. SCENE I. 8l Stands in the gap and trade of moe preferments, With which the time will load him. The archbishop Is the king's hand and tongue; and who dare speak One syllable against him? Gar. Yes, yes. Sir Thomas, There are that dare; and I myself have ventured 40 To speak my mind of him : and indeed this day. Sir, I may tell it you, I think I have Incensed the lords o' the council, that he is. For so I know he is, they know he is, K. most arch heretic, a pestilence That does infect the land : with which they moved Have broken with the king; who hath so far _ , . Given ear to our complaint, of his great grace And princely care foreseeing those fell mischiefs Our reasons laid before him, hath commanded 50 To-morrow morning to the council-board He be convented. He's a rank weed. Sir Thomas, And we must root him out. From your affairs I hinder you too long: good night, Sir Thomas. Lov. Many good nights, my lord : I rest your servant. \Exeunf Gardiner and Page. Enter the King and Suffolk. King. Charles, I will play no more to-night ; My mind's not on't; you are too hard for me. Suf. Sir, I did never win of you before. King. But little, Charles ; Nor shall not, when my fancy's on my play. 60 Now, Lovell, from the queen what is the news ? Lov. I could not personally deliver to her What you commanded me, but by her woman I sent your message; who return'd her thanks In the great'st humbleness, and desired your highness Most heartily to pray for her. King. What say'st thou, ha? To pray for her? what, is she crying out? 82 KING HENRY VIII. Lov. So said her woman ; and that her sufferance made Almost each pang a death. King. Alas, good lady! Suf. God safely quit her of her burthen, and 70 With gentle travail, to the gladding of Your highness with an heir! King. 'Tis midnight, Charles ; Prithee, to bed ; and in thy prayers remember The estate of my poor queen. Leave me alone; For I must think of that which company Would not be friendly to. Suf. I wish your highness A quiet night; and my good mistress will Remember in my prayers. King. . Charles, good night. \Exit Suffolk. Enter Sir Anthony Denny. Well, sir, what follows ? Den. Sir, I have brought my lord the archbishop, 80 As you commanded me. King. Ha ! Canterbury ? Den. Ay, my good lord. King. 'Tis true : where is he, Denny ? Den. He attends your highness' pleasure. King. Bring him to us. \Exit Denny. Lov. \Aside\ This is about that whlich the bishop spake: I am happily come hither. Re-enter Denny, with Cranmer. King. Avoid the gallery. \Lpvell seems to stay.] Ha! i have said. Be gone. What! {Exeunt Lovell and Denny. Cran. [A^ide] I am fearful : wherefore frowns he thus? 'Tis his aspect of terror. A.11 's not well. ACT K SCEUE /. 83 King. How now, my lord! you do desire to know 90 Wherefore I sent for you. • Cran. \Kneeling.'] It is my duty To attend your highness' pleasure. King. Pray you, arise. My good and gracious Lord of Canterbury. Come, you and I must walk a turn together, I have news to tell you: come, come, give me your hand. Ah, my good lord, I grieve at what I speak, And am right sorry to repeat what follows: J have, and most unwillingly, of late Heard many grievous, I do say, my lord. Grievous complaints of you; which, being considePd, 100 Have moved us and our council, that you shall This morning come before us; where, I know. You cannot with such freedom purge yourself. But that, till further trial in those charges Which will require your answer, you must take Your patience to you, and be well contented To make your house our Tower: you a brother of us. It fits we thus proceed, or else no witness Would come against you. Cran. \Kneeling.\ I humbly thank your highness. And am right glad to catch this good occasion 110 Most throughly to be winnow'd, where my chaff And com shall fly asunder : for, I know. There's none stands under more calumnious tongues Than I myself, poor man. King. Stand up, good Canterbury: Thy truth and thy integrity is rooted In us, thy friend: give me thy hand, stand up: Prithee, let's walk.. Now, by my holidame. What manner of man are you? My lord, I look'd You would have given me your petition, that I should have ta'en some pains to bring together 120 Yourself and your accusers; and to have heard you. Without indurance, further. G 2 84 KING HENRY VIII. Cran. Most dread liege, The good I stand on is my truth and honesty : If they shall fail, I, with mine enemies. Will triumph o'er my person; which I weigh not. Being of those virtues vacant. I fear nothing What can be said against me. King. Know you not How your state stands i' the world, with the whole world ? Your enemies are many, and not small; their practices Must bear the same proportion ; and not ever 130 The justice and the truth o' the question carries The due o' the verdict with it: at what ease Might corrupt minds procure knaves as corrupt To swear against you ? such things have been done. You are potently opposed; and with a malice Of as great size. Ween you of better luck, I mean, in perjured witness, than your master. Whose minister you are, whiles here he lived Upon this naughty earth? Go to, go to; • You take a precipice for no leap of danger, 140 And woo your own destruction. Cran. God and your majesty Protect mine innocence, or I fall into The trap is laid for me! King. Be of good cheer; They shall no more prevail than we give way to. Keep comfort to you; and this morning see You do appear before them: if they shall chance. In charging you with matters, to commit you. The best persuasions to the contrary Fail not to use, and with what vehemency The occasion shall instruct you : if entreaties 150 Will render you no remedy, this ring Deliver them, and your appeal to us There make before them. Look, the good man weeps! He's honest, on mine honour. God's blest mother! 1 swear he is true-hearted; and a soul ACT V. SCEATE I. 85 None better in my kingdom. Get you gone, And do as I have bid you. \Exit Cranmeri\ He has strangled His language in his tears. Enter Old Lady, Lovell following. * Gent. [ \i^ithin\ Come back ; what mean you ? 159 Old L. I '11 not come back ; the tidings that I bring Will make my boldness manners. Now, good angels Fly o'er thy royal head, and shade thy person Under their blessed wings ! , King. • Now by thy looks I guess thy message. Is the queen deliver'd? Say, ay; and of a boy. Old L. Ay, ay, my liege: And of a lovely boy : the God of heaven Botlt now and ever bless her! 'tis a girl. Promises hoys hereafter. Sir, your queen Desires your visitation, and to be Acquainted with this stranger : 'tis as like you 170 As cherry is to cherry. King. Lovell! Lov. Sir ? King. Give her an hundred marks. I '11 to the queen. \Exit. Old L. An hundred marks! By this light, 1 '11 ha' more. An ordinary groom is for such payment. 1 will have more, or scold it out of him. Said I for this, the girl was like to him? 1 will have more, or else unsay't; and now. While it is hot, I'll put it to the issue. \Exeunt. 86 KING HENRY VIII. Scene II. Before the council-chamber. Pursuivants, Pages, Sfc. attending. ^ter'k: Tranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury. Cran. I hope I am not too late; and yet the gentleman, That was sent to me from the council, pray'd me To make great haste. All fast.' what means this? Ho! Who waits there? Sure, you know me? Keeper. Keep. Yes, my lord; But yet I cannot help you. Cran. Why ? j Enter Doctor Butts. Keep. Your grace must wait till you be call'd for. , Cran. So. Butts. \Aside\ This is a piece of malice. I am glad I came this way so happily: the king Shall understand it presently. \Exit. Cran. \Aside\ 'Tis Butts, lo The king's physician ; as he pass'd along. How earnestly he cast his eyes upon me! Pray heaven, he sound not my disgrace I For certain, This is of purpose laid by some that hate me— God turn their hearts! I never sought their malice— To quench mine honour: they would shame to make me Wait else at door, a fellow-counsellor, 'Mong boys, grooms, and lackeys. But their pleasures Must be fulhll'd, and I attend with patience. Enter the King a«', I cry your honour mercy; you may, worst Of all this table, say so. Crom. Why, my lord ? Gar. Do not I know you for a favourer 80 Of this new sect? ye are not sound. Crom. Not sound ? Gar. Not sound, I say. Crom. Would you were half so honest! Men's prayers then would seek you, not their fears. Gar. I shall remember this bold language. Crom. Do. Remember your bold life too. Chan. This is too much ; Forbear, for shame, my lords. Gar. I have done. Crom. And I. Chan. Then thus for you, my lord: it stands agreed I take it, by all voices, that forthwith You be convey'd to the Tower a prisoner; There to remain till the king's further pleasure 90 Be known unto us : are you all agreed, lords ? All. We are. Cran. Is there no other way of mercy, But I must needs to the Tower, my lords? Gar. What other Would you expect ? you are strangely troublesome. Let some o' the guard be ready there. Enter Guard. Cran. For me? Must I go like a traitor thither? Gar. Receive him. And see him safe i' the Tower. Cran. Stay, good my lords, I have a little yet to say. Look there, my lords ; ACT V. SCENE III. 91 By virtue of that ring, I take my cause Out of the gripes of cruel men, and give it 100 To a most noble judge, the king my niaster. Cham. This is the king's ring. Sur. 'Tis no counterfeit. Suf. 'Tis the right ring, by heaven : I told ye all, When we first put this dangerous stone a-rolling, 'Twould fall upon ourselves. Nor. Do you think, my lords, The king will suffer but the little finger Of this man to be vex'd ? Chan. 'Tis now too certain ; How much more is his life in value with him ? Would I were fairly out on't! Crom. My mind gave me, In seeking tales and informations no Against this man, whose honesty the devil And his disciples only envy at. Ye blew the fire that bums ye : now have at ye ! Enter King, frowning on them; takes his seat. Gar. Dread sovereign, how much are we bound to heaven In daily thanks, that gave us such a prince; Not only good and wise, but most" religious : One that, in all obedience, makes the church The chief aim of his honour; and, to strengthen That holy duty, out of dear respect. His royal self in judgement comes to hear 120 The cause betwixt her ^nd this great offender. King. You were ever good at sudden commendations. Bishop of Winchester. But know, I come not To hear such flattery now, and in my presence They are too thin and bare to hide offences. To me you cannot reach, you play the spaniel. And think with wagging of your tongue to win me; But, whatsoe'er thou tak'st me for, I'm sure Thou hast a cruel nature and a bloody. 92 KING HENRY VHI. \To Cranmer\ Good man, sit down. Now let me see the He, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee : By all that's holy, he had better starve Than but once think this place becomes thee not. Sur. May it please your grace,— I had thought I had had men of some understanding And wisdom of my council; but I find none. Was it discretion, lords, to let this man. This good man,—few of you deserve that title,— This honest man, wait like a lousy footboy At chamber-door? and one as great as you are? 140 Why, what a shame was this ! Did my commission Bid ye so far forget yourselves ? I gave ye Power as he was a counsellor to try him. Not as a groom; there's some of ye, I see, More out of malice than integrity. Would try him to the utmost, had ye mean ; Which ye shall never have while I live. Chan. Thus far, My most dread sovereign, may it like your grace To let my tongue excuse all. What was purposed Concerning his imprisonment, was rather, 150 If there be faith in men, meant for his trial. And fair purgation to the world, than malice, I'm sure, in me. King. Well, well, my lords, respect him; Take him, and use him well, he's worthy of it. I will say thus much for him, if a prince May be beholding to a subject, I Am, for his love and service, so to him. Make me no more ado, but all embrace him : Be friends, for shame, my lords ! My Lord of Canterbury, I have a suit which you must not deny me; 161 That is, a fair young maid that yet wants baptism, You must be godfather, and answer for her. proudest 130 King. No, sir, it does not please me. ACT V. SCENE IV. 93 Cran. The greatest monarch now alive may glory In such an honour: how may I deserve it, That am a poor and humble subject to you ? King. Come, come, my lord, you 'Id spare your spoons : you shall have two noble partners with you; the old Duchess of Norfolk, and Lady Marquess Dorset: will these please you ? 170 Once more, my Lord of Winchester, I charge you, Embrace and love this man. Gar. With a true heart And brother-love I do it. Cran. And let heaven Witness, how dear I hold this confirmation. King. Good man, those joyful tears show thy true heart: The common voice, I see, is verified Of thee, which says thus, ' Do my Lord of Canterbury A shrewd turn, and he is your friend for ever.' Come, lords, we trifle time away; I long To have this young one made a Christian. 180 As I have made ye one, lords, one remain; So I grow stronger, you more honour gain. [Exeunt. Scene IV. The palt^e yard. Noise and tumult within. Enter Porter and his Man. Port. You'll leave your noise anon, ye rascals : do you take the court for Paris-garden ? ye rude slaves, leave your gaping. [ Within\ Good master porter, I belong to the larder. Port. Belong to the gallows, and be hanged, ye rogue ! is this a place to roar in? Fetch me a dozen crab-tree staves, and strong ones : these are but switches to 'em. I '11 scratch your heads : you must be seeing christenings ? do you look for ale and cakes here, you rude rascals ? Man. Pray, sir, be patient: 'tis as much impossible— Unless we sweep 'em from the door with cannons— 11 94 KING HENRY Fill. To scatter 'em, as 'tis to make 'em sleep On May-day morning; which will never be: We may as well push against Powle's, as stir 'em. Port. How got they in, and be hang'd? Man. Alas, I know not; how gets the tide m ? As much as one sound cudgel of four foot— You see the poor remainder—could distribute, I made no spare, sir. Port. You did nothing, sir. 19 Man. I am not Samson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colbrand, To mow 'em down before me : but if I spared any That had a head to hit, either young or old. He or she, cuckold or cuckold-maker. Let me ne'er hope to see a chine again; And that I would not for a cow, God save her! [JVtiAtn] Do you hear, master porter? Port. I shall be with you presently, good master puppy. Keep the door close, sirrah. Man. What would you have me to do ? 29 Port. What should you do, but knock 'em down by the dozens! Is this Moorfields to muster in ? On my Christian conscience, this one christening will beget a thousand; here will be father, godfather, and all together. jj Man. The spoons will be the bigger, sir. There is a fellow somewhat near the door, he should be a brazier by his face; for, o' my conscience, twenty of the dog-days now reign in's nose ; all that stand about him are under the line, they need no other penance ; that fire-drake did I hit three times on the head, and three times was his nose discharged against me; he stands there like a mortar-piece, to blow us. There was a haberdasher's wife of small wit near him, that railed upon me till her pinked porringer fell off her head, for kindling such a combustion in the state. 1 missed the meteor once, and hit that woman; who cried out ' Clubs 1' when 1 might see from far some forty truncheoners draw to ACT V. SCENE IV. 95 her succour, which were the hope o' the Strand, where she was quartered. They fell on ; I made good my place : at length they came to the broom-staff to me; I defied 'em still: when suddenly a file of boys behind 'em, loose shot, delivered such a shower of pebbles, that I was fain to draw mine honour in, and let 'em win the work : the devil was amongst 'em, I think, surely. 52 Port. These are the youths that thunder at a playhouse, and fight for bitten apples; that no audience, but the tribulation of Tower-hill, or the limbs of Limehouse, their dear brothers, are able to endure. I have some of 'em in Limbo Patrum, and there they are like to dance these three days; besides the running banquet of two beadles that is to come. J Enter Lord Chamberlain. Cham. Mercy o' me, what a multitude are here! 60 They grow still too; from all parts they are coming. As if we kept a fair here ! Where are these porters. These lazy knaves ? Ye have made a fine hand, fellows : There's a trim rabble let in : are all these Your faithful friends o' the suburbs? We shall have Great store of room, no doubt, left for the ladies. When they pass back from the christening. Port. An't please your honour. We are but men; and what so many may do. Not being torn a-pieces, we have done: An army cannot rule 'em. Cham. As I live, 7° If the king blame me for't, I '11 lay ye all By the heels, and suddenly ; and on your heads Clap round fines for neglect: ye are lazy knaves; And here ye lie baiting of bombards, when Ye should.do service. Hark 1 the trumpets sound ; They 're come already from the christening: Go, break among, the press, and find a way out 96 KING HENRY VIII. To let the troop pass fairly; or I '11 find A Marshalsea shall hold ye play these two months. Port. Make way there for the princess. Man. You great fellow, Stand close up, or I '11 make your head ache. 8i Port. You i' the camlet, get up o' the rail; I '11 peck you o'er the pales else. [Exeunt. Scene V. The palace. J E7tter trumpets, soune^g; then two Aldermen, Lord Mayor, Garter, Cranmer, Duke of Norfolk with his marshals staff, duke of suffolk, two Noblemen bearing great standing-bowls for the christ¬ ening-gifts j then four Noblemen bearing a canopy, under which the Duchess of Norfolk, godmother, bearing the child richly habited in a mantle, Ss^c., train borne by a Ladyy then follows the marchioness Dorset, the other godmother, and Ladies. The troop pass once about the stage, and Garter speaks. Gart. Heaven, from thy endless goodness, send prosperous life, long, and ever happy, to the high and mighty princess of England, Elizabeth ! Flourish. Enter King and Guard. Cran. [Kneeling\ And to your royal grace, and the good queen. My noble partners, and my self, thus pray : All comfort, joy, in this most gracious lady, Heaven ever laid up to make parents happy. May hourly fall upon ye ! King. Thank you, good lord archbishop : What is her name ? Crati. Elizabeth. King. Stand up, lord. [ The King kisses the child. ACT r. SCENE V. 97 With this kiss take my blessing: God protect thee ! lo Into whose hand I give thy life. Cran. Amen. King. My noble gossips, ye have been too prodigal: 1 thank ye heartily; so shall this lady, When she has so much English. Cran. Let me speak, sir. For heaven now bids me; and the words 1 utter Let none think flattery, for they'll find 'em truth. This royal infant—heaven still move about her!— Though in her cradle, yet now promises Upon this land a thousand thousand blessings. Which time shall bring to ripeness : she shall be— 20 But few now living can behold that goodness— A pattern to all princes living with her. And all that shall succeed: Saba was never More covetous of wisdom and fair virtue Than this pure soul shall be: all princely graces, That mould up such a mighty piece as this is. With all the virtues that attend the good. Shall still be doubled on her: truth shall nurse her. Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her: She shall be loved and feaFd : her own shall bless her; Her foes shake like a field of beaten com, 31 And hang their heads with sorrow : good grows with her: In her days every man shall eat in safety. Under his own vine, what he plants; and sing The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours : God shall be truly known; and those about her From her shall read the perfect ways of honour. And by those claim their greatness, not by blood. Nor shall this peace sleep with her: but as when The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phoenix, 40 Her ashes new create another heir. As great in admiration as herself; So shall she leave her blessedness to one. When heaven shall call her from this cloud of darkness, H 98 KING HENRY VIIl. Who from the sacred ashes of her honour Shall star-like rise, as great in fame as she was, And so stand fix'd: peace, plenty, love, truth, terror. That were the servants to this chosen infant. Shall then be his, and like a vine grow to him : Wherever the bright sun of heaven shall shine, 50 His honour and the greatness of his name Shall be, and make new nations : he shall flourish. And, like a mountain cedar, reach his branches To all the plains about him; our children's children Shall see this and bless heaven. King. Thou speakest wonders. Cran. She shall be, to the happiness of England, An aged princess; many days shall see her, And yet no day without a deed to crown it. Would I had known no more! but she must die. She must, the saints must have her; yet a virgin, 60 A most unspotted lily shall she pass To the ground, and all the world shall mourn her. King. O lord archbishop. Thou hast made me now a man! never, before This happy child, did I get any thing: This oracle of comfort has so pleased me. That when I am in heaven I shall desire To see what this child does, and praise my Maker. I thank ye all. To you, my good lord mayor. And your good brethren, I am much beholding; 70 I have received much honour by your presence. And ye shall find me thankful. Lead the way, lords: Ye must all see the queen, and she must thank ye. She will be sick else. This day, no man think Has business at his house; for all shall stay: This little one shall make it holiday. \Exeunt. ACT V. SCENE V. EPILOGUE. 'Tis ten to one this play can never please All that are here : some come to take their ease, And sleep an act br two; but those, we fear. We have frighted with our trumpets; so, 'tis clear. They '11 say 'tis naught: others, to hear the city Abused extremely, and to cry ' That's witty!' Which we have not done neither; that, 1 fear, All the expected good we're like to hear For this play at this time, is only in The merciful construction of good women; For such a one we show'd 'em ; if they smile. And say 'twill do, 1 know, within a while All the best men are ours; for 'tis ill hap. If they hold when their ladies bid 'em clap. NOTES. The title is given as it stands in the Folios. Rowe first supplied, imperfectly, the Dramatis Personae. The Acts and Scenes are indicated throughout in the Folios. Theobald was the first to give the places of the scenes, and he has been followed substantially by other editors. The Prologue may have been written by Fletcher, but this is mere conjecture, and it is a question of no great importance. Johnson attributes it to Ben Jonson. Mr. Boyle (New Shakespeare Soc. Trans.), in illustration of the expression in line 19, 'Such a show As fool and fight is,' quotes from Fletcher's Women Pleased, v. i : 'To what end do I walk? for men to wonder at. And fight and fool ?' I, This play in all probability followed a comedy. 3. working, full of action and pathos. Staunton reads ' Sad and high- working.' 9. May here find truth too. From this passage and the expression 'our chosen truth' in line 18 Tyrwhitt conjectured that the present play was the same as that which was acted at the Theatre on Bankside when the play-house was burnt down on the 29th of June, 1613. It is described by Sir Henry Wotton as a new play, 'called All is True, representing some principal pieces of the reign of Henry the Vlllth.' 12. their shilling. This was at the time of the play the usual price of a seat on or next the stage. Malone (Historical Account of the English Stage, in Boswell's Shakespeare, iii. 75) quotes from Sir Thomas Overbury's Characters ' The proud man': ' If he have but twelve-pence in's purse, he will give it for the best room in a play¬ house.' And from Dekker's ' Guls Homebook' (Non-Dramatic Works, ed. Grosart, ii. 203}, X609: 'When at a new play you take up the loa ATOTES. [act 1. twelue-penny roome next the stage; (because the Lords and yon may seeme to be haile fellow wel-met), there draw forth this booke.' i6. a long motley coat, the conventional dress of the fool or buffoon. Steevens quotes from Marston's Eleventh Satire [1. 174]: 'The long fooles coat, the huge slop, the lugd boot. From mimick Pyso all doe claime their roote.' And from Nashe, Have with you to Saffron Walden, Ep. ded.: ' fooles, ye know, alwaies for the most part (especiallie if they bee naturall fooles) are suted in long coates.' Works, ed. Grosart, iii. 23. It is possible, as Boswell points out, that there may be a reference in this passage to Rowley's When you see me you know me, which appears to have been revived in 1613, and in which Will Summers, Henry the Eighth's jester, plays a prominent part. In the same drama is represented a single combat with swords and bucklers between the King disguised and Black Will a highwayman, which supplied the 'noise of targets.' lb. guarded, bordered, trimmed. .See Merchant of Venice, ii. 2. 164: 'Give him a livery More guarded than his fellows'. 21. To make . . . intend. Malone, taking 'opinion' in the sense of ' char.icter' or reputation, puts this line in a parenthesis and interprets, 'To realise and fulfil the expectations formed of our play, is now our object.' He therefore makes ' that' refer to ' opinion.' Tyrwhitt trans¬ posed the order of the words and read, ' That only true to make we now intend': • i. e. that now we intend to exhibit only what is true. But there is no necfessity for either change. The text as it stands, which is substan¬ tially the same as that of the Folios, means, ' Tbe reputation we bring with us of making the representation which we have in view simply in accordance with truth.' This was the credit which the company of players had acquired with the public. 24. happiest, most favourable, most propitious; a sense of the word which, in the opinion of .Steevens, favours the supposition that the prologue was written by Ben Jonson, who was more familiar than Shakespeare with the similar use of the Latin_pelix. ACT I. Scene I. The Duke of Norfolk in this scene, and throughout the play, was Thomas Howard, second Duke, son of John, the first Duke, who was killed at the battle of Bosworth Field. He was created Earl of Surrey, sc. I.] -KING HENRY VIIT. 4 Henry VII, and commanded the English at Flodden, 9 September 1513, when his eldest son Thomas, the Snrrey of this play, led the van¬ guard. On I February 1514 he was created Duke of Norfolk, and his eldest son became Earl of Surrey. In 13 Henry VHI he presided as Lord High Steward at the trial of the Duke of Buckingham, 13 May 1521, and died at Framlingham Castle, Suffolk, 21 May 1524. He did not live to witness Wolsey's disgrace, and his appearance therefore in Act III, Scene 2, is an anachronism. The Duke of Buckingham was Edward Stafford, son of the Duke of Buckingham who appears in Richard the Third. In this scene the Dukes of Norfolk and Buckingham should have reversed their parts, for Norfolk was in England during the time of the interview of Henry and Francis, while Buckingham was present though he took no part in the tournament. (Brewer, Reign of Henry VIII, i. 375.) The Lord Abergavenny was George Nevill, who married, as his second wife, Mary third daughter of the Duke of Buckingham, and was present at the interview between Henry and Francis in 1520. He died in 1535- The Palace at which the first three scenes of this Act are laid may have been the palace of Bridewell, which was restored by Henry VIII, and at which he lived during the trial of Queen Katharine at Black- friars. The Palace at Westminster had been burnt down in 1512 and was not afterwards rebuilt, and the King did not acquire Whitehall till after the fall of Wolsey. It was not till 1531-2 that the site of St. James's Palace came into the possession of Henry. At the time of the play the Court was most frequently at Greenwich. 2. saw, saw each other, met; as in Cymbeline, i. i. 124: 'When shall we see again ?' And North's Plutarch (ed. 1595), p. 1066: 'Brutus went to meete him, & they both met at the citie of Smyrna, which was the first time that they saw together since they tooke leaue of each other.' 6. suns 0/glory. See line 33. 7. the vale of Andren. 'In the vale of Andren, within the lordeship royall of Guysnes.' (Hall, Chron. p. 608.) It separated the towns of Guynes and Arde (or Ardres), which were in Picardy, the former belonging to the Engiish, the latter to the French. The interview lasted from the 7th to the 24th of June, 1520. 8. Hall the Chronicler, who was an eye-witness, describes the meeting of the Kings (p. 610): 'Then vp blewe the Trumpettes, Sagbuttes, Clarions, and all other Minstrelles on bothe sides, and the kynges. descended doune towarde the bottome of the valey of Andem, in sight of bothe the nacions and on horsebacke met and embrased the twoo kynges eache other; then the two kynges alighted, and after I04 NOr£S. [act i. embrased with benyng and curteons maner eche to other, with swete and goodly wordes of gretyng.' 10. embracenunt, embrace. lb. as, as if. See iii, I. 7. 11. which had they, that is, grown together. 18. Made fornur wonders its, that is, either united in itself all the wonders of the preceding days, or appropriated and displayed the wonders of former ages. lb. its occurs besides nine times in the first folio of Shakespeare. See note on The Tempest, i. 2. 95. 19. clinquant, glittering, as with gold or silver lace. Cotgrave (Fr. Diet.) gives, 'Clinquant: m. Thinne plate lace of Gold, or Silner.' 23. Cherubins, cherubs. We get this form of the word from the Italian cherubino, Fr. cherubin. In The Tempest, i. 2. 152, cherubim is wrongly used for the singular in some modem editions, whereas it is the Hebrew plural: the mistake arising from the fact that in the English Bible the plural is ' cherubims,' which naturally led to the supposition that the singular was ' chembim.' See Otliello, iv. 2. 63: ' Patience, thou young and rose-lipp'd cherubin !' And A Lover's Complaint, 319: ' Which like a cherubin above them hover'd.' 25. that, so that: as in lines 36, 38, and Epilogue, 7. 26. as a painting. The emotion heightened their colour, so as to make the use of cosmetics imnecessary. • 33. wag, move; as in v. 3. 127, 131; Hamlet, iii. 4. 39: ' What have I done, that thou darest wag thy tongue In noise so rude against me?' lb. in censure, that is, not in depreciation, but in giving judgement which was superior. ' Censure * was originally a colourless word, as in Richard III, ii. 2. 144 ; 'Madam, and you, pay mother, will you go To give your censures in this weighty business?' And there is nothing in ' wag' to imply that the censure was favourable or unfavourable. 34. challenged. The two kings, each with seven assistants, challenged all comers, and the jousting lasted, with an interval of two days, from June II to June 22. 36. forsner fabulous story, the stories of old times hitherto thought fabulous. 38. Bevis of Southampton, a warrior of whom incredible stories are told. He is said to have been made Earl of Southampton by William the Conqueror, and is referred to again in the old play on which the Second Part of Henry VI is founded. The First Part of the Contention sc. I.] KING HENRY VIH. of the two fainons houses of York and Lancaster: 'And so haue at you Peter with downright blowes, as Beuys of South-hampton fell vpon Askapart.' See 2 Henry VI, ii. 3. 92. The story of Sir Beves of Hamtonn was edited for the Maitland Club in 1838 by Tumbull, and has recently appeared among the publications of the Early English Text Society, edited by Dr. Kolbing. lb. go far, go beyond the limits of belief, exaggerate. Compare Cymbeline, i. i, 24: ' Second Gent. You speak him far. First Gent. I do extend him, sir, within himself.' ' Speak him far' means ' speak of him in exaggerated terms.' 39. As I belong to worship, as I am a nobleman. For this sense of 'worship' see Winter's Tale, i. 2. 314: 'Whom I from meaner form Have bench'd and rear'd to worship!' 40. the tract, the course or process. Johnson paraphrases the sentence thus: ' The course of these triumphs and pleasures, however well related, must lose in the description part of that spirit and energy which were expressed in the real action.' But possibly there is also in the word ' tract' the meaning ' description, narration,' as in ' process' itself. 42-47. In the first three folios * All was royal . . . together' is given to Buckingham, and Norfolk's speech begins, ' As you guess.' The present arrangement is Theobald's. In the fourth folio the words ' All. . . guess' are given to Buckingham. 44. the ojfice must here mean the officers who had charge of the arrangements. 45. Distinctly, clearly, without confusion. 48. certes, certainly, is here a monosyllable; but in The Tempest, iii. 3. 30, one of Shakespeare's latest plays, it is a disyllable: ' For, certes, these are people of the island.' So also in The Comedy of Errors, iv. 4. 78, which is one of the earliest: 'Certes, she did; the kitchen-vestal scom'd you.' In Othello, i. I. 16, the word may also be of two syllables, though this is doubtful: 'Nonsuits my mediators: for, certes, says he.' The line may very well be an Alexandrine, and it occurs in a passage in which the metre is irregular. lb. no element, no component part. 52. no man's pie. See. Cotgrave (Fr. Diet.) gives other equivalents for a meddler : ' Aliboron, A Polypragmon, medler; busie-body; one that hath his hand in euery dish, an oare in euery boat.' io6 NOTES. [act i. 54. fierce, wild, irregular, extravagant. Compare Midsummer Night's Dream, iv. i. 74: 'And think no more of this night's accidents But as the fierce vexation of a dream.' And Cymbeline, v. 5. 382 : 'This fierce abridgement Hath to it circumstantial branches.' 55. a keech, a lump or mass of fat: here used in reference to Wolsey's supposed origin, as the son of a butcher. In 2 Henry IV, ii. 1. 101, we find 'goodwife Keech, the butcher's wife'; and in i Henry IV, ii. 4. 252, Prince Henry calls Falstaff a ' greasy tallow-catch,' where ' catch' is probably another form of' keech.' 62, 63. In the first folio these lines are printed thus: 'but Spider-like Out of his Selfe-drawing Web. O giues vs note,' &c. The reading of the text is Capell's. Staunton has ' Out of his self drawing web.' But ' his' is never followed by ' self directly, without some intervening adjective, as in iii. 2. 336, ' his great self,' and v. 3. 120, 'his royal self.' Wolsey, a self-made man, without any external assistance, such as is derived from noble ancestry, had won a position for himself out of his own internal resources and energy, as the spider constructs its web which it draws from itself. If ' self-drawing' is the correct reading it must mean' formed by drawing out of itself.' "Theobald and Capell substitute ' self-drawn.' 63- gives us note, proclaims to us. 65. t)uU heaven gives for him, as he had nothing of his own. 69. Peeps through each part of him. Steevens quotes Troilus and Cressida, iv. 5. 57 : ' Her wanton spirits look out At every joint and motive of her body.' 73- going out, expedition. 75. the file, the list, catalogue. As in All's Well, iv. 3. 189 : ' So that the muster-file, rotten and sotmd, amounts not to fifteen thousand poll.' 76-78. ssuh To whom . . . upon. To amend the faulty construction Hanmer read ' such On whom . . .' &c., Capell' such Too, whom . . .,' and Keightley adopted Sidney Walker's conjecture ' such, too. On whom. . .' 79. The honourable board ofcouttcil out, as Holinshed says, ' without consent of the whole boord of the conncell' (p. 855). 80. Must fetch him in he papers. If this be the true reading it can only mean, must fetch in him whose name he registers on the paper which contains the list of the gentlemen who are to attend the expedition. sc. 1.] KING HENRY vrn. 107 But it is difficult to attach any clear sense to such slipshod writing. Campbell read ' the papers/ and Staunton proposed ' he paupers.' 82. sic ken'd, impaired, enfeebled, impoverished. 84. with laying manors on them, Steevens quotes King John, ii. 1. 70: ' And all the unsettled humours of the land . .. Have sold their fortunes at their native homes. Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs.' Andy desperate appliance are relieved.' 128. bores, cheats, deceives. Johnson says, 'stabs or wounds me by some artifice or fiction.' But we find in The Life and Death of Thomas Lord Cromwell, iii. 2 (,Malone's Suppl. to Shakespeare, ii, 40S): ' No, sc. I.] KING HENRY VIII. I'll assure you, I am no earl, but a smith, sir, one Hodge, a smith at Putney, sir; one that hath gulled you, that hath bored you, sir.' And in Fletcher's Spanish Curate, iv. 5 ; ' I am abused, betray'd ! I am laugh'd at, scom'd, Baffled and bored, it seems!' Perhaps the figure is taken from undermining, as Staunton suggests. 13^' go about, undertake, endeavour. 133- Who being allowed his way, &c. The construction is the same as in The Merchant of Venice, iv. 1. 133 : 'Thy currish spirit Govem'd a wolf, who, hang'd for human slaughter. Even from the gallows did his fell soul fleet.' 134. Self-mettle tires him. Malone quotes Lucrece 707 ; 'Till like a jade Self-will himself doth tire.' 139. Be advised, not, take advice, but be deliberate, reflect, consider. So in Richard III, ii. i. 107 : ' Kneel'd at my feet, and bade me be advised.' 141. That it do singe yourself, referring probably, as Steevens points out, to Daniel iii. 22. 147. More stronger. The double comparative is of frequent oc¬ currence. See note on The Merchant of Venice, iv. 1. 247, 'more elder,' and Abbott's Shakespearian Grammar, §11. 148. If with the sap of reason, &c. Steevens compares Hamlet, iii. 4. 124 : ' Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper Sprinkle cool patience.' which, as a figure of speech, is more perfect. 152. Whom from the flow of gall I name not, whom I mention, not because I am under the influence of bitter feeling. 153. motions, impulses, motives. So in Cymbeline, ii. 5. 20 : 'For there's no motion That tends to vice in man, but I affirm It is the woman's part.' 156. treasonous, treasonable. So in Macbeth, ii. 3. 138: ' Against the undivulged pretence I fight Of treasonous malice.' 157. vouch, attestation, testimony, guarantee. Compare Measure for Measure, ii. 4. 156: ' My vouch against you.' 159-162. It is strange that Buckingham, in his analysis of Wolsey's character, should practically repeat what Norfolk bad said of him shortly before. See lines 103-112. Possibly this speech may be the work of another hand. 159. equal, qually. See Abbott, Sh. Gr. § i. no NOTES. [act i. 164. suggests, incites, prompts. Compare Sonnet cxliv. 2 : ' Two loves I have of comfort and despair, Which like two spirits do suggest me still.' 167. rinsing, spelt in the folios ' wrenching,* and possibly so pro¬ nounced, as it still is in the North of England. 169. The articles 0' the combination as drawn up by Wolsey, regulating all the details of the interview, are given fully both by Hall and Holinshed. 177. to see the queen his aunt. His mother Joanna, daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella, was sister to Katharine of Aragon. 'Sone after these two noble princes on the Whitsonday early in the morenynge tooke their horse and rode to the Cytee of Cantorbury, the more to solempne the feast of Pentecost, but specially to see the queue of England his aunte was the intent of the Emperour.' (Hall, Chron. p. 604.) 178. colour, pretext. So in Lucrece, 267: 'Why hunt I then for colour or excuses?' 180, &c. The narrative of Holinshed is here followed. 'The chiefs cause that mooued the emperour to come thus on land at this time, was to persuade that by word of mouth, which he had before done most eamestlie by letters; which was, that the king should not meet with the French king at anie interview : for he doubted least if the king of England & the French king should grow into some great friendship and faithfull bond of amitie, it might tume him to displeasure. ' But now that he perceived how the king was forward on his ioumie, he did what he could to procure, that no trust should be committed to the faire words of the Frenchmen : and that if it were possible, the great friendship that was now in breeding betwixt the two kings, might be dissolued. And forsomuch as he knew the lord cardinall to be woone with rewards, as a fish with a bait: he bestowed on him great gifts, and promised him much more, so that hee would be his friend, and helpe to bring his purpose to passe. The cardinall, not able to snsteine the least assault by force of such rewards as he presentlie receiued, and of such large promises as on the emperours behalfe were made to him, promised to the emperour, that he would so vse the matter, as his purpose should be sped: onelie he required him not to disalow the kings intent for interuiew to be had, which he desired in anie wise to go forward, that he might shew his high magnificence in France, according to his first intention.' (p. 856.) 184. and, as I trow, as I think or believe. The construction in this and the following lines is imperfect, and Mr. Vaughan proposed to amend it by putting the words ' which . .. sure' in a parenthesis. 195. mistaken, misunderstood, misjudged. So in Richard II, iii. 2.174: ' For you have but mistook me all this while.' KING HENRY VIII. Ill 197. Enter Brandon, &c. Buckingham was arrested by Sir Henry Mamay, or Mamey, Captain of the King's Guard, and therefore Capell proposed to substitute Mamay for Brandon. According to Holinshed (p. 863), ' The duke hervpon was sent for vp to London, & at his comming thither, was streightwaies attached, and brought to the Tower by sir Henrie Mameie, capteine of the gard, the sixteenth of Aprill. There was also attached the foresaid Chartreux monke, maister John de la Car alias de la Court, the dukes confessor, and sir Gilbert Perke priest, the dukes chancellor. ' After the apprehension of the duke, inquisitions were taken in diuerse shires of England of him ; so that by the knights and gentlemen, he was indicted of high treason, for certeine words spoken (as before ye haue heard) by the same duke at Blechinglie, to the lord of Aburgauennie; and therewith was the same lord attached for concelement, and so like¬ wise was the lord Montacute, and both led to the Tower.' Lord Montacute, or Montague, was Henry Pole, son of the Countess of Salisbury, and grandson of George, Duke of Clarence. In a letter from Wolsey, written on May 20, 1521, after Buckingham's execution, it is said that Lords Abergavenny and Montague were loyal, and were only sent to the Tower, for a small concealment proceeding from neglig¬ ence.' Montague, however, was beheaded in 1539. 200. Hereford. The folios and all editors down to Capell read ' Hert¬ ford.' Holinshed (p. 865) calls him ' earle of Hereford, Stafford, and Northampton.' The title Earl of Hereford was used by Humphrey, the first Duke of Buckingham, great-grandfather of the Duke in the present play, because his mother Ann Plantagenet was granddaughter and re¬ presentative of Humphrey de Bohun, the last Earl of Hereford and of Northampton. It does not appear that he was ever created Earl of Hereford; and in Richard III, iv. 2. 93, it will be remembered that the Buckingham of that play incurred the anger of the King by pressing his claim to the Earldom. 202. Lo you, look you: As in Winter's Tale, i. 2. 106: 'Why, lo you now, I have spoke to the purpose twice.' 204. practice, plot, artifice, contrivance. So in i. 2.127, and Henry V, ii. 2. 144 : 'Arrest them to the answer of the law; And God acquit them and their practices!' 204-6. / am sorry . . . present. A difficulty has been raised as to these lines, which can only as they stand be interpreted as Johnson paraphrases them: ' I am sorry that I am obliged to be present and an eye-witness of your lo?s of liberty.' 112 mT£S. [act 1. 217. attach, arrest. See note on 1. 95, and Comedy of Errors, iv. i. 6: ' Therefore make present satisfaction, Or Til attach you by this officer.' 219. Peck. The name is given as Perke both in Hall and Holinshed. Both are apparently wrong. In the papers connected with the trial of the Duke of Buckingham, now in the Record Office, the name of the Duke's chaplain and confessor appears as John Delacourt, and his chancellor is called Robert Gilbert clerk. Possibly Perke and Pecke are corruptions of ' clerk.' Holinshed afterwards (p. 863, col. 2) calls him ' his Chancellor Robert Gilbert chapleine.' See Letters and Papers, Foreign and Domestic, of the reign of Henry VIII, vol. 3, part i, p. 302. It), chancellor. So Theobald corrected the folio, which has ' Coun- cellour.' Pope adopted the correction. 221. Nicholas Hopkins. Holinshed (p. 863) calls him 'one Nicholas Hopkins, a monke of an house of the Chartreux order beside Bristow.' Theobald again corrected the reading of the folio, which is ' Michaell.' 223. spanned, measured, and brought to an end. 225. IVhose figure, &c. As Buckingham is thus but the shadow of his former self, the impending cloud of calamity assumes his figure and resembles him, being the shadow which darkens the brightness of his prosperity. The idea is not clearly expressed, but there seems to be no necessity to make the change suggested by Johnson of ' puts on' to ' puts out,' which entirely changes the comparison. Staunton interpreted ' cloud puts on' by ' assumes obscurity,' but he does not explain how this is connected with what follows. Scene II. Sir Thomas Lovell, who had been Chancellor of the Exchequer under Henry VII, was at this time Constable of the Tower. The preliminary investigation of the charge against Buckingham was really held at Greenwich, as is evident from a letter written 16 April 1521, by Pace to Wolsey, and printed in Ellis's Original Letters, Second Series, i. 286- 288. The letter is dated at Greenwich, and the writer says, ' My lorde of Duresme [Ruthal] wolde have cummyn unto your Grace, but the Kynge wolde not suffer hym so to doo, but commaundydde hym to tarry here for th' examinacion off certayne things off Bukkynghams servantes.' But it is clear that the dramatist did not suppose the scene to be at Greenwich, or he would not have made the Surveyor refer to that place as he does in line 188. Of the historical accuracy of the writer, Mr. Brewer (The Reign of Henry VIII, i. 383) says, ' With the exception of making Wolsey present at the examination of the Duke's servants and surveyor, Shakespeare has strictly adhered to facts in this preliminary sc. 2.] KING HENRY VIII. examination of the duke's servants. We have indisputable evidence that it was conducted by the King in person, assisted by Ruthal, Secre¬ tary of State.' The chronology of the scene is very much confused. The investigation of the charges against Buckingham took place in April, 1521, and the rebellion on account of the commission was four years later. 1. the best heart, the very essence of it. See note on Coriolanus, i. 6. 55 : ' Aufidius, their very heart of hope.' 2. level, aim. Compare Winter's Tale, iii. 2. 82 r ' My life stands in the level of your dreams.' 3. confederacy, conspiracy ; as in i Henry IV, iv. 4. 38 : ' For he hath heard of our confederacy.' 4. choked. This is not very appropriate, for the conspiracy has just been likened to a cannon loaded to the muzzle. 8. Stage direction. ' The King riseth from his state,' that is, his chair of state, which had a canopy. So in Coriolanus, v. 4. 22 : ' He sits in his state, as a thing made for Alexander.' 13. Repeat your will, say what you desire. 18. solicited is here loosely used in the sense of ' informed by peti¬ tioners.' 20. commissions. ' Wherefore by the Cardinall were deuised strange Commissions, and sent in thende of Marche to euery shire, and Com¬ missioners appoynted, whiche wer the greatest men of euery shire: and priuie instruccions sent to them, to saie and ordre the people, and the tenor was, that the sixt part of euery mannes substaunce, should without delaie bee payed in money or plate, to the kyng for the furniture of his warre.' (Hall, Chron. p. 694.) 21. hath Jlavld the heart, ^c. ' So they (i. e. the citizens) helde their peace, & departed toward London, sore grudgyng at the liyng of the Cardinal, and openly saiyng that he was the verie cause, and occasio of this demaunde, and would plucke the peoples hartes from the kyng.' (Hall, p. 698.) 24. putter on, instigator. So in Winter's Tale, ii. i. 141 : ' Vou are abused, and by some putter-on.' 26, 27. even he escapes not Language unmannerly. ' So that in all the realme were billes set vp in all places : Some billes saied, that the kyng had not paied that he borowed.' (Hall, p. 697.) 27, 28. breaks The sides of loyalty in the violent outbursts of passion. See Twelfth Night, ii. 4. 96 : •There is no woman's sides Can bide the heating of so strong a passion.' 30-37. 'The Duke of Suffolke sat in SufTolke, this season in like commission, and by gentle handlyng, he caused the riche Clothiers to I 114 NOTES. [act i. assent and graunt to geue the sixt parte, and when thei came home to their houses, they called to them their Spinners, Carders, Fullers, Weuers, & other artificers, whiche were wont to be set a woorke and haue their liuynges by cloth makyng, and saied, sirs we be not able to set you a woorke, our goodes be taken from vs, wherefore trust to your selfes, and not to vs, for otherwise it wil not be. Then began women to wepe and young folkes to crie and men that had no woorke began to rage, and assemble theimselfes in compaignies.' (Hall, Chron. p. 699.) 32. longing, belonging. See ii. 3. 48. /i.<7^, dismissed. Seeii. 4. 21. 42. front, take the lead. 43. tell steps with me, follow the same line of action as myself. 45. alike to you as to others. 47. be their acquaintance, be acquainted with them. 62. Allegiance must be read as a word of four syllables. 67. business is Warburton's correction of the error of the first folio, which reads 'basenesse.' 'No primer business' is no business which requires more immediate attention. 67, &c. ' Then the kyng came to Westminster, to the Cardinal's place: Wherupon this matter, he assembled a great counsaill, and openly he said, that his mind was neuer, to aske any thyng of his com¬ mons, whiche mighte sounde to his dishonour, or to the breche of his lawes, wherfore he would know of whom it was long, that the com¬ missions were so straight to demaunde the sixt part of euery mances substaunce: the Cardinall excused hymself & said, that when it was moued in counsaill, how to make the kyng riche, the Kynges Counsaill, and especially the Judges saied, he might lawfully demaunde any some by Commission, and that by the assent of the whole counsaill it was done. . . . The kyng was sore moued, that his subiectes were thus stirred, and also he was enformed of the deniall, that the spirituall men had made, and of their saiynges, wherefore he thought it touched his honour, that his counsaill should attempt, suche a doubtful matter in his name, and to bee denied bothe of the spiritualtie and temporaltie, for although some graunted for feare, before the commissioners, yet when they wer departed, they denied it again. Then the kyng saied, I will no more of this trouble: Let letters be sent to all shires, that this matter maie no more be spoken of, I will pardon all theim that haue denied the demaunde, openly or secretly.' (Hall, Chron. pp. 700, 701.) 75. brake, thicket. In Venus and Adonis, 237 : ' Round rising hillocks, brakes obscure and rough.' 78. To cope, to encounter. See As Vou Like It, ii. 1. 67 : ' I love to cope him in these sullen fits.' sc. a.] KING HENRY VIII. "5 82. By sick interpreters, ottce weak ones, by interpreter who were in the first instance incapable of judging his tnotives, and had since be¬ come morbidly prejudiced against him. 83. allowed, approved. 95. A trembling contribution, a contribution given with trembling, or which makes the giver tremble, it is so great. 96. lop, the branches of a tree, cut off for faggots. 104. The grieved commons, &c. ' The cardinall, to deliuer himself of the euill will of the commons, purchased by procuring & aduancing of this demand, affirmed, and caused it to 1^ bruted abrode, that through his intercession the king had pardoned and released all things.' (Holinshed, p. 892.) 105. noised, reported. So in Timon of Athens, iv. 3. 404 : ' It is noised he hath a mass of treasure.' 106. revokement, revocation. 110. Is run in, has run into, or incurred. Compare All's Well, ii. 5. 37: 'I know not how I have deserved to run into my lord's dis¬ pleasure.' 111. learned. Buckingham was a patron of literature. Steevens has pointed out that the French prose romance of Helyas the Knight of the Swanne was translated at his suggestion. The title is,' Here beginneth the History of the noble Helyas Knight of the Swanne, newly translated out of Frenshe in to Englysshe at thinstigacion of the puyssant and illustryous Prynce lorde Edwarde Duke of Buckingham.* According to the Prologue of the translator, Robert Copland, Buckingham proposed it to the printer, Wynkyn de Worde, by whom it is said to have been printed in 1512. No copy, however, of this edition is known to exist. The romance is reprinted in Thorns' Early English Prose Romances, vol. 3, from the edition of Copland. 116. Not well disposed, not employed to good ends. Compare King John, iii. 4. 11 : 'So hot a speed with such advice disposed.' 117. ten times more ugly, on the principle that corruptio optimi . pessima. 118. complete, with the accent on the first syllable, as in iii. 2. 49, and Troilus and Cressida, iv. I. 27 : • A thousand complete courses of the sim.' 119. and when we, &c. The sense may be easily gathered, but it is hard to construe the sentence. ' Whom' for ' when' has been proposed, but it does not remove the difficulty. 120. Almost with ravish'd listening, with our attention almost , ravished. Pope read, ' Almost with listening ravish'd.' 127. practices. See i. i. 204. ii6 NOTES. [act i. 13J-138. The play here follows Holinshed's narrative. ' And first he vttered, that the duke was accustomed by waie of talke, to saie, how he meant so to vse the matter, that he would atteine to the crowne, if king Henrie chanced to die without issue ; & that he had talke and conference of that matter on a time with George Nenill, lord of Abur- gauennie, vnto whome he had giuen his daughter in marriage ; and also that he threatned to punish the cardinall for his manifold misdooings, being without cause his mortall enimie.' (p. 862,) 139-141. The punctuation adopted in this passage is Capell's. The folios have: 'This dangerous conception in this point, Not frended by his wish to your High person; His will, &c.' That is, not being favoured by the fulfilment of his wish in regard to the King's person, namely, that he should die without issue, his evil will extendi beyond the King to his friends. 140. his wish, that the King should die without issue. 143. Deliver, report. See ii. 2. 135 ; ii. 3. 106. 145. fail, failure of issue. See ii. 4. 198, and Winter's Tale, v. i. 27: ' What dangers by his highness' fail of issue, Must drop upon his kingdom.' 146-150. 'Then Kneuet partlie prouoked with desire to be re- uenged, and partlie mooued with hope of reward, openlie confessed, that the duke had once fullie determined to deuise meanes how to make the king away, being brought into a full hope that he should be king, by a vaine prophesie which one Nicholas Hopkins, a monke of an house of the Chartreux order beside Bristow, called Henton, sometime his confessor had opened vnto him.' (Holinshed, pp. 862, 3.) 147, 148. For ' Hopkins' in both these lines the folios have ' Henton,' and the error, which was corrected by Theobald, must have been due to the author, who misunderstood the words ' called Henton' in the passage just quoted from Holinshed, and applied them to the monk and not to the priory. He made the further mistake of calling him a friar instead of a monk. Among the accounts of the Duke of Buckingham for the year 1519, now in the British Museum, is an item in his own hand,' To my ghostly father at Henton, icor.' (Letters and Papers, Hen. VIII, vol. 3, p. 498.) 150. words of sovereignly, words relating to his succession to the crown. 151. Not long before. -On 10 May, 1520. 151-171. 'Beside all this, the same duke the tenth ofMaie, in the twelfe yeare of the kings reigne, at London in a place called the Rose, within the parish of saint Laurence Poultnie in Canwike street ward,' sc. 2.] KING HENRY VIII. 117 demanded of the said Charles Kneuet esquier, what was the taike amongest the Londoners concerning the kings iourneie beyond the seasl And tKe said Charles told him, that manie stood in doubt of that iourneie, least the Frenchmen meant some deceit towards the king. Whereto the duke answered, that it was to be feared, least it would come to passe, according to the words of acerteine holie moonke. For there is (saith he) a Chartreux moonke, that diuerse times hath sent to me, willing me to send vnto him my chancellor: and I did send vnto him John de la Court my chapleine, vnto whome he would not declare anie thing, till de la Court had swome vnto him to keepe all things secret, and to tell no creature lining what hee should heare of him, except it were to me. ' And then the said moonke told de la Court, that neither the king nor his heires should prosper, and that I should indeuour my selfe to purchase the good wils of the commnnaltie of England; for I the same duke and my blood should prosper, and haue the rule of the realm of England.' (Holinshed, p. 864.) 152.0/ the Rose. The manor of the Red Rose belonged to the Duke of Buckingham, and is mentioned in the valuation of his lands taken 13 Hen. VIII. Among the 'offices and fees' is 'keeper of the manor of Redde Roos in London, 40^.' (Letters and Papers, Hen. VIII, vol. 3, p. 508.)- There is also (ibid. p. 1578) an account of the 'Stuff in charge of Hnmfrey Andrews at the manor of Redde Roose in London, late the duke of Buckinghams, attainted of high treason.' The subse¬ quent fortunes of the house are told by Stow in his Survey of London. ' In this [Suffolk] lane is one notable grammar school, founded in the year 1561 by the master, wardens, and assistants, of the Merchant- Tailors, in the parish of St. Laurence Poultney; Richard Hilles, some¬ time master of that company, having before given 500/. towards the purchase of a house, called the manor of the Rose, sometime belonging to the Duke of Buckingham, wherein the said school is kept.' (p. 89, ed. Thoms.) 164. confessions seal. The folios read ' commissions,' and this was followed by Rowe and Pope. Theobald made the correction, on the strength of a passage in Holinshed (p. 863): ' The duke in talke told the monke, that he had doone verie well, to bind his chapleine, John de la Court, vnder the scale of confession, to keepe secret such matter.' 170. To gain the love. 'Gain'was added in the fourth folio, and some such word is necessary, not for the construction but for the metre, which halts without it. ' Win,' which Mr. Grant White proposed, would have done equally well, and it has the support of one of three passages in Holinshed, where the monk is represented as urging the duke ' to seeke to win the fauour of the people' (p. 863). ii8 J\rOTES. [act 1. 173. You were the duke's surveyor, &c. 'Now it chanced that the duke comming to London with his traine of men, to attend the king into France, went before into Kent vnto a manor place'which he had there. And whilest he staid in that countrie till the king set forward, greeuous complaints were exhibited to him by his farmars and tenants against Charles Knenet his surueiour, for such bribing as he had vsed there amongest them. Wherevpon the duke tooke such displeasure against him, that he depriued him of his office, not knowing how that in so dooing he procured his owne destruction, as after appeared.' (Holinshed, p. 856.) 174. spleen, malice. See ii. 4. 89. 178, &c. I told my lord, &c. 'Then said Charles Kneuet; The moonke maie be deceiued through the diuels illusion: and that it was euill to meddle with such matters. Well (said the duke) it cannot hurt me, and so (saith the indictment) the duke seemed to reioise in the moonks words. And further, at the same time, the duke told the said Charles, that if the king had miscaried now in his last sicknesse, he would haue chopped off the heads of the cardinall, of sir Thomas Lovell knight, and of others.' (Holinshed, p. 864.) 180. To. ruminate on this. Elsewhere in Shakespeare * ruminate' is always used as a transitive or an intransitive verb. So in Henry V, iv. Chor. 24: ' Sit patiently and inly ruminate The morning's danger.' 184. faiVd, euphemistically for ' died.' 188, &c. Being at Greenwich. ' And furthermore, the same duke on the fourth of Nouember, & in the eleuenth yere of the kings reigne, at east Greenwich in the countie of Kent, said vnto one Charles Kneuet esquier, after that the king had reprooued the duke for reteining William Bulmer knight into his seruice, that if he had perceiued he should haue beene committed to the Tower (as he doubted bee should haue beene) hee would haue so wrought, that the principall dooers therein should not haue had cause of great reioising : for he would haue plaied the part which his father intended to haue put in practise against king Richard the third at Salisburie, who made earnest sute to haue come vnto the pre.sence of the same king Richard : which sute if he might haue obteined, he hauing a knife secretlie about him, would haue thrust it into the bodie of king Richard, as he had made semblance to kneele downe before him. And in speaking these words, he maliciouslie laid his hand vpon his dagger, and said, that if he were so euill vsed, he would doo his best to accomplish his pretensed purpose, swearing to confirme his word by the bloud of our Lord.' (Holinshed, p. 864.) 190. Bulmer. This is the name as it appears in Hall and Holinshed's sc- 3.1 KING HENRY VIII. 119 Chronicles, and in the Duke of Buckingham's indictment (Letters and Papers, Henry VIII, vol. 3, p. 492). Sir William Bnlmer, a Yorkshire knight, was one of those appointed to attend on the King and Queen at the interview with Francis (ibid. p. 243). The name also appears in the form ' Bovrmere' (ibid. p. 494), and is perhaps derived from Buhner, a parish in the North Riding. In the folios it is ' Blumer,' which Pope changed to ' Blomer.' 191, 192. I renumber Of such a time. This construction is not foimd in Shakespeare elsewhere, but it is used in Scotland still. 191. being my s^vorn servant. 'The king speciallie rebuked sir William Bulmer knight, bicause he being his seruant swome, refused the kings seruice, and became seruant to the duke of Buckingham.' (Holinshed, p. 853.) 198. made semblance of, pretended to perform. This phrase is from the Chronicle. 200. may, can. So in King John, v. 4. 21: 'May this be possible? may this be true?' 205. mounting, raising aloft. 207. outgo, surpass. So in Timon, i. i. 285 : 'He outgoes The very heart of kindness.' 210. cUtcuKd, arrested. See i. i. 217. 211, 212. if he may Find mercy. See. 'The King hearing the accusation, inforced to the vttermost by the cardinal!, made this answer: If the duke haue deserued to be punished, let him haue according to his deserts.' (Holinshed, p. 863.) 213. by day and night. An exclamation of the nature of an oath. So Capell understands the expression in- Lear, i. 3.4; 'By day and night he wrongs me,' but this is better taken in its ordinary sense. Scene III. Enter the Lord Chamberlain and Lord Sands. The Lord Chamber* lain in 1521 was Charles Somerset, Earl of Worcester, who died in 1526. Lord Sands, or Sandys, was at this time Sir William Sandys, who was not created Baron Sandys of the Vine, near Basingstoke, till 1523. The chronology of this scene and the one which follows is hopelessly confused. Sir Thomas Bullen, who is mentioned in i. 4. 92, 93, was not created Viscount Rochford till i8th of June, 1525, and yet the dancing scene is placed before the trial of Buckingham, which began on Monday the 13th of May, 1521. The first interview of Henry and Anne Bullen could not have taken place till after 1526, for in the description of the entertainment at which it is supposed to have occurred, I20 NOTES. [act i. as given in Cavendish's Life of Wolsey (ed. Singer, 2nd edition, p. 114), Lord Sands is represented as Lord Chamberlain, and he did not sncceed to this office till the death of the Earl of Worcester in that year. For this reason the dramatist here makes the Lord Chamberlain and Lord Sands distinct persons. 2. such strange mysteries, such fantastic fashions, like the dresses of actors in a mystery play. "J. A fit or two of the face, a grimace or distortion of the face like that caused by an epileptic fit. See Lear, ii. 2. 87 : 'A plague upon your epileptic visage!' 10. Pepin or Clotharius, kings of France, the former of the Carlo- vingian dynasty of the eighth century, the latter of the still earlier Merovingian, and so both of them types of great antiquity. 12. saw. The folios read ' see,' which in earlier English was a form of the preterite, and is still found in provincial usage. For instance, in the Romance of The Seven Sages (Percy Soc. ed.), 480, we find : ' Anon as the lady see. Out of hire armes that he flee.' And again in Sir Isumbras (Camden Soc. ed.), 1. 604: 'Alle had wondir that hym see.' But here it can hardly be anjrthing but a printer's error, and Pope corrected it. 12, 13. the spavin Or springhalt. So Verplanck. The folios read ' A springhalt,' as if spavin and springhalt ^ere the same form of lame¬ ness. Malone thought Pope's alteration to ' And springhalt' un¬ necessary, evidently supposing that there was no difference. The spavin is a disease which causes lameness by a swelling of the joints, while the springhalt, or stringhalt, shows itself in a convulsive twitching of the hind legs. 18. the court-gate. In Ralph Agas's Map of London, about 1560, one of the gates of Whitehall is called the court-gate. It is probably that which was designed by Holbein, and stood facing Charing Cross a little south of the banqueting house. 19. our traveird gallants. It is possible that there may be here a reference to some contemporary occurrence, but it is just as likely to have been suggested by an account in Hall's Chronicle (p. 597) of some young Englishmen, who about the year 1518 had been living at the French Court: ' When these young gentelmen came again into England, they were all Frenche, in eatyng, drynkyng and apparell, yea, and in Frenche vices and bragges, so that all the estates of Englande were by them laughed at: the ladies and gentlewomen wer dispraised, so that nothing by them was praised, but if it were after the Frenche tume.' sc. 3.] KING HENRY VIII. 121 25. fool and feather. Steevens thonght that the reference here was not to the plumes of feathers worn in hats or caps, but trf an effeminate fashion of carrying fans of feathers, which prevailed among the young gentlemen of the period. But the passage which he quotes from Greene's Farewell to Follie loses some of its point from the fact that it was published in 1591, and not so near the period of the present play as 1617, the date given in his note. ' Westriue to be counted womanish, by keeping of beautie, by curling the haire, by wearing plumes of feathers in our hands.' (Greene's Works, ed. Grosart, ix. 252.) The more obvious reference is probably the true one. A plume of feathers is the synonym for a coxcomb in Love's Labour's Lost, iv. i. 96: ' What plume of feathers is he that indited this letter ?' 26. points of ignorance, because the knowledge of things not worth knowing is no better than ignorance. 27. fights and fireworks. This refers to the tournaments at the meeting of the two kings, and to the ceremonies with which they concluded, when ' an artificial firework, four fathoms long, in the shape of a salamander, was sent up in the air in the direction of Guisnes, to the astonishment and terror of the beholders.' (Brewer, Reign of Henry VIII, i. 356.) The incident is commemorated in the picture of the Field of the Cloth of Gold at Hampton Court. 30,31. tall stockings. Short blister'd breeches. In the portrait of Henry Prince of Wales prefixed to Drayton's Polyolbion, 1613, he is represented in short breeches reaching to the middle of the thigh, and long stockings. His father wore breeches full stuffed and reaching to the knee, and the portrait of his brother Prince Charles in the Cambridge University Library represents him in loose slops also reaching to the knee. The fashion here pointed at appears to be the same as that ridiculed by Ben Jonson in A Tale of a Tub [l6i6], i. 2, 'long sausage hose,' and ii. 1, ' A pair of pinned-up breeches, like pudding bags.' 31. blistered, with small puffs, contrasted with the other fashion in lb. types, distinguishing marks. See note on Richard III, iv. 4. 244. favour with King James. To read ' bolster'd' instead would be to miss the point. 32. understand. A quibble is intended here, as in Twelfth Night, iii. I. 89: 'My legs do better understand me, sir, than I understand what you mean by bidding me taste my legs.' 35. The lag end, the latter end, as in i Henry IV, v. i. 24: ' For mine own part, I could be well content To entertain the lag end of my life With quiet hours.' 45. Held, that is, have it held. A similar ellipsis occurs in ii. 1. 155. 46. colt's tooth. Compare Chaucer, Wyf of Bathes Prol. 1. 6184: 132 NOTES. [act i. ' And I was fonrty, if I schal say the sothe, But yit I had alway a coltis tothe.' And Beanmont and Fletcher, The Elder Brother, 11. 3 : ' If he shonld love her now. As he hath a colt's tooth yet, what says your learning. And your strange instruments to that, my Andrew ?' 53. churchman, Ecclesiastic. See 1. 4. 88, 111. 1. 117. 57. has. The folios read ' h'as,' which is frequently for ' he has,' but the omission of the nominative is not uncommon. See Abbott's Gram- § 399> ^nd Lear, 11. 4. 293 : ' 'Tis his own blame; hath put himself from rest.' 61. My barge stays. This is an indication that the scene is supposed to be at the palace of Bridewell, which was by the river side at the south-west comer of Bridge Street, Blackfriars. The Lord Chamber¬ lain's barge would land him at the water-gate of York Place, which is now Whitehall. 64. Sir Henry Guildford was Master of the Horse to Henry VIII. In Cavendish's Life of Wolsey, which is the source from which the following scene is taken, he is called ' Comptroller to the King' (p. 114). Scene IV. 4. bevy, a company of ladies. See Spenser, Faerie Queene, ii. 9. 34: 'And in the midst thereof upon the floure A lovely bevy of faire Ladies sate.' And The Shepheardes Calendar, Aprill, 1. 118 : ' And whither rennes this beuie of Ladies bright, raunged in a rowel' On which is the gloss,' A beauie of Ladyes, is spoken figuratiuely for a company or troope, the terme is taken of Larkes. For they say a Beuie of Larkes, even as a Couey of Partridge, or an eye of Pheasaunts.' In the Boke of Saint Albans we find ' a feeuy of Roos' and ' a Beuy of Quaylis.' 6. As, first, good company. Theobald changed this to ' As first-good company,' explaining it thus: ' he would have you as merry as these 3 Things- can make You, the best Company in the Land, of the best Rank, good Wine, &c.' But such a compound as ' first-good' is very doubtful. Dyce adopted Halliwell's suggestion,' As far as good,' &c., and Staunton supposed ' first' to be a corruption of' feast.' 12. a running banquet, which signifies a hasty refreshment, is used both here and in v. 4. 59 in a figurative sense, to which the phrase lends itself. Malone quotes from Habington's History of King Edward the Fourth [p. 72] : 'Queene Margaret and Prince Edward, though by the sc. 4.] KING HENRY VIII. 123 Earle recald, fonnd their fate and the winds so adverse, that they conid not land in England, to taste this running banquet to which fortune had invited them.' 25. Capell adds the stage-direction, 'seating.himself between Anne Sullen, and another Lady.' 30. Well said, well done! See As You Like It, ii. 6. 14: ' Well said! thou lookest cheerly.' 41. beholding, obliged, indebted. See iv. i. 21, v. 3.156, v, 5. 70, and note on Julius Caesar, iii. 2. 63 (Clar. Press ed.). 46. if I make my play, that is, if I make my party, explains Steevens. Rather, says Ritson,' if I may choose my game.' But it seems to mean, •if I win what I play for.' 49. Stage direction. Chambers discharged. ' Chambers were short cannon which were only used for the discharge of powder on festal occasions. In the narrative of this masque in Cavendish's Life of Wolsey (ed. Singer, p. 113), the King's arrival is described. 'And at his coming, and before he came into the hall, ye shall understand, that he came by water to the water gate, without any noise ; where, against his coming, were laid charged many chambers, and at his land¬ ing they were all shot off, which made such a rumble in the air, that it was like thunder.' 50. Look out there, some of ye. According to Cavendish, this order was given to the Lord Chamberlain and Sir Henry Guildford, who 'looking out of the windows into Thames, returned again, and showed him, that it seemed to them there should be some noblemen and strangers arrived at his bridge, as ambassadors from some foreign prince'(p. 114). For the incidents of the remainder of the scene, the whole passage from Cavendish should be consulted. It was copied by Holinshed, and is given in the Preface. 85, 86. here I'll make My royal choice. According to Cavendish, Wolsey mistook Sir Edward Neville for the King. 89. unhappily, unfavourably, ill. So in Hamlet, iv. 5. 13: 'Indeed would make one think there might be thought. Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily.' 93. The Viscount Rochford. Sir Thomas Sullen was not created Viscount Rochford till 18 June, 1525. 96. And not to kiss you. It was the custom at the end of a dance for every one to salute his partner. See The Temp>est, i. 2. 378 : ' Courtsied when you have and kiss'd.' 108. knock it, strike up, and beat time for the dancers. 124 NOTES. [act ii. ACT II. • Scene I. Buckingham's trial began on Monday, 13 May, 1521. He was be¬ headed on Friday, the 17th. 2. to the hall. ' Shortlie after that the duke had beene indicted ... he was arreigned in Westminster hall, before the duke of Noffolke, being made by the kings letters patents high steward of England, to accomplish the high cause of appeale of the peere or peeres of the realme, and to disceme and iudge the cause of the peeres.' (Holinshed, p. 865.) 8. upon as the consequence of the verdict. 11-25. * When the lords had taken their place, the duke was brought to the barre, and vpon his arreignement pleaded not guiltie and put himselfe vpon his peeres. Then was his indictment read, which the duke deni^ to be true, and (as he was an eloquent man) alledged reasons to falsihe the indictment; pleading the matter for his owne iustification verie pithilie and eamestlie. The kings attoumie against the dukes reasons alledged the examinations, confessions, and proofes of witnesses. 'The duke desired that the witnesses might bee brought foorth. And then came before him Charles Kneuet, Perke, de la Court, & Hopkins the monke of the priorie of the Charterhouse beside Bath, which like a false hypocrite had induced the duke to the treason with his false forged prophesies. Diuerse presumptions and accusations were laid vnto him by Charles Kneuet, which he would faine have couered.' (Holinshed, p. 565.) 14. to defeat the law and so evade the punishment. See Henry V, iv. i. 175: 'Now, if these men have defeated the law and outrun native punishment, though they can outstrip men, they have no wings to fly from God.' 15. The kinfs attorney at this time was John Fitz-James, who was appointed 26 Jan. 1519. He became Chief Baron of the Exchequer 8 Feb. 1522, and Chief Justice of the King's Bench 23 Jan. 1526. (Foss, Judges of England, v. 96, 98, 100.) 17. To have brought, &c. TTie first three folios read, ' To him brought'; the correction was made in the fourth. 26-36. ' Thus was this prince duke of Buckingham found giltie of high treason, by a duke, a marquis, seuen earles, & twelue barons. The duke was brought to the barre sore chafed, and swet maruellouslie; & after he had made his reuerence, he paused a while.' ("Holinshed. n. 86fi.) sc. 1.] KING HENRY VIII. 125 28. learnedly, like a counsel ' learned in the law,' not merely skil¬ fully like a practised orator. 2g. Was either pitied in Mm or forgotten, that is, as Malone ex¬ plains, either produced no effect at all or only ineffectual pity. 34. ill, and hasty. This apparently refers to the words attributed to the duke in Holinshed (p. 865): • My lord of Norffolke, you haue said as a traitor should be said vnto, but I was neuer anie.' 41. Kildare's attainder. Gerald FitzGerald, earl of Kildare, then Deputy of Ireland, was recalled and imprisoned, and the Earl of Surrey was sent to take his place in April, 1520, and remained two years. Holinshed, probably following Polydore Viigil, charges Wolsey with purposely sending Surrey out of the way and imprisoning the Earl of Northumberland, in order that he might more freely carry out his designs against Buckingham. ' But bicause he doubted his freends, kinnesmen, and alies, and cheeflie the earle of Surrie lord admerall, which had married the dukes daughter, he thought good first to send him some whither out of the wale, least he might cast a trumpe inhiswaie.' (Holinshed, p. 855.) ' By the cardinals good preferment the earle of Surrie was sent into Ireland as the kings deputie, in lieu of the said earle of Kildare, there to remaine rather as an exile, than as lieutenant to the king, euen at the cardinals pleasure, as he himselfe well perceiued.' (Ibid.) 44. his father, that is, his father-in-law. Surrey married as his second wife Buckingham's daughter, Elizabeth. 47. whoever the king favours, &c. This jealousy shown by Wolsey is noted by Holinshed in the case of Dr. Richard Pace, who was sent on a mission to Rome after the death of Leo X. ' The more the prince fauoured him, the more was he misliked of the Cardinal!, who sought onelie to beare all the rule himselfe, and to haue no partener j so that he procured that this doctor Pace TOder color of ambassage, should be sent foorth of the realme, that his presence about the king should not win him too much authoritie and fauour at the kings hands.' (p. 872.) 48. willfind employment [for]. For instances of this omission of the preposition, see notes on Midsummer Night's Dream, i. 1.81; Henry V, ii. 2. 159; Julius Csesar, i. 2. 308. 50. perniciously, so as to desire his death. 53. The mirror of all courtesy. ' He is tearmed in the books of the law in the said thirteenth yeare of Henrie the eight (where his ar- reignement is liberallie set downe) to be the floure & mirror of all courtesie.' (Holinshed, p. 870.) . , 54. Enter Buckingham, &c. The stage-direction and much of what follows are taken from Holinshed, who follows Hall. ' Then was the edge of the axe turned towards him, and he led into a barge. Sir Thomas 126 NOTES. [act ii. Louell desired him to sit on the cushins and carpet ordeined for him. He said najr; for when I went to Westminster I was duke of Bucking¬ ham, now I am but Edward Bohune the most caitife of the world. Thus they landed at the Temple, where receiued him sir Nicholas Vawse and sir William Sands baronets, and led him through the citie, who desired euer the people to pray for him, of whome some wept and lamented, and said: This is the end of euill life, God forgiue him, he was a proud prince, it is pitie that hee behaued him so against his king and liege lord, whome God preserue. Thus about foure of the clocke he was brought as a cast man to the Tower.' (p. 865.) Sir William Sands, wrongly called Sir Walter in the folios, was created Lord Sands some time after the date of this scene, but there is no reason to think that the dramatist was aware of this. Sir Nicholas Vaux, son of Sir William Vaux who appears in 2 Henry VI, iii. 2. 366, was knighted after the battle of Stoke in 1487, and created Lord Vaux of Harrowden 27 April, 15 Henry VIII (1523), in which year he died. 57. lose, forget, dismiss from your mind. So in As You Like It, ii. 7. 112: 'Lose and neglect the creeping honrs of time.' 60. And if I have a conscience, &c. Mr. Vaughan proposes to read 'An if' for 'And if,' on the ground that without this change the speaker proposes nothing to which heaven can bear witness. This is rather an imaginary difficulty. It is surely quite as easy to say ' Heaven bear witness if I be not faithful,' as to say ' I take Heaven to witness if I be not faithful.' 67. iheir evils. Zachary Grey's friend, Mr. Smith, of Harleston, says, ' Here it is pretty easy to see that by evils we are to understand houses of office^ Compare Measure for Measure, ii. 2. 172 : 'Shall we desire to raze the sanctuary And pitch our evils there?' In illustration see 2 Kings x. 27. 70. Nor will I sue, &c. ' I shall neuer sue to the king for life, howbeit he is a grations prince, and more grace may come from him than I desire.' (Holinshed, p. 865.) 71. More than I dare faults, that is, more abundant than the faults which I dare commit. In ' dare,' on account of its repetition in the next line, Mr. Vaughan suspects a corruption, and proposes either to omit it or to read ' I'd e'er' for ' I dare.' 74. Is only bitter to him, only dying, the only thing that is bitter to him, the only thing that can be called death. 76. the long divorce of steel. Compare Twelfth Night, iii. 4. 260 : ' Souls and bodies hath he divorced three.' sc. I.] KING HENRY VIII. 127 77. ' I desire you my lords and all my fellowes to pray for me.' (Holinshed, p. 865.) 82. free, freely. As in Macbeth, ii. 1.19: ' Our will became the servant to defect; Which else should free have wrought.' 85. take peace with. A phrase not elsewhere found in Shake¬ speare. 86. mark. The folios read ' make my grave,' out of which a certain sense can be extorted. But' mark' is Warburton's correction, and it is warranted by the epithet ' black' applied to ' envy,' which would have no meaning if we read ' make.' Johnson proposed to remedy the diffi¬ culty by reading ' make peace' and ' take my grave,' using ' take' in the sense of' blast,' ' strike with malignant influence.' Steevens, because to make a door signifles to close it, maintained that' make my grave' is the true reading, and interpreted it' close my grave,' i. e. attend the conclu¬ sion of my existence. But there is no analogy between the two expressions. A similar misprint of 'make' for 'mark' occurs in Henry V, ii. 2. 139, and the justice of Theobald's correction in that passage is not questioned. 89. forsake. Not used absolutely in Shakespeare. 103. Edmund Bohun. The dramatist here follows Holinshed, who in his.turn follows Hall; but shortly after, in his account of the High Constables of England, Holinshed calls the Duke of Buckingham cor¬ rectly Edward Stafford. He was the fifth in descent from Eleanor Bohun, who married Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of Gloucester, but Bohun was never the family name of the Dukes of Buckingham. 105. I now seal it. That is, as Johnson rightly explains, ' I now seal my truth, my loyalty, with blood, which blood shall one day make them groan.' 107. My noble father. 'Henrie Stafford . . . was high constable of England, and duke of Buckingham. This man raising warre against Richard the third vsurping the crowne, was in the first yeare of the reigne of the said Richard, being the yeare of Christ 1483, betraied by his man Humfrie Banaster (to whome being in distresse he fled for succour) and brought to Richard the third then lieng at Salisburie, where the said duke confessing all the conspiracie, was beheaded without arraigne- ment or iudgement, vpon the second of Nouember, in the said yere of our redemption 1483.' (Holinshed, p. 869.) 108. raised head, raised an armed force, as in i Henry IV, i. 3. 284: ' To save our heads by raising of a head.' 129. rub, check, impediment. The word was especially used for anything which hindered the course of a bowl. See note on King John, iii.4. 128. 128 NOTES. [act ii. 133. my long weary life. Buckingham was bom 3rd of February, 1478, and was therefore at this time only forty-three. 140-153. 'There rose a secret brute in London that the king's con¬ fessor doctor Longland, and diuerse other great clerks had told the king that the marriage betweene him and the ladie Katharine, late wife to his brother prince Arthur was not lawiull: wherevpon the king should sue a diuorce. . . . The king was offended with those tales, and sent for sir Thomas Seimor maior of the citie of London, secretlie charging him to see that the people ceassed from such talke.' (Holinshed, p. 897.) 143. faith, trustworthiness, fidelity. 146. / am confident, I trast you, confide in you. 148. A buzzing, a whispered rumour. 155. and held. See i. 3. 45. 156-164. ' The cardinall verelie was put in most blame for this scruple now cast into the kings conscience, for the hate he bare to the emperor, bicause he would not grant to him the archbishoprike of Toledo, for the which he was a suter.' (Holinshed, p. 906.) Scene II. 13. private, solitary, alone. 16. Suffolk's speech, as Mr. Vaughan has pointed out, is spoken aside, and Norfolk's answer, ''Tis so', &c., is to the Chamberlain. 20. list is the subjunctive, as' please, line 48, and in Othello, ii. 3. 352; 'That she may make, unmake, do what she list.' And Hamlet,iii. 2. 76 : ' That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please.' 24. great nephew. These words are hyphened by Dyce, but wrongly. Charles was Katharine's nephew, being the son of her sister Joanna. 40. The French king's sister. ' And therefore he did not onlie procure the king of England to ioine in freendship with the French king, but also sought a diuorse betwixt the king and the queene, that the king might haue had in marriage the duchesse of Alanson, sister vnto the French king.' (Holinshed, p. 906.) 41. have slept upon, have been closed so as not to see his defects. 46. From princes into pages. ' Wheu he said masse (which he did oftener to shew his pompe, rather than for anie deuotion) he made dukes and earles to seme him of wine, with a say taken, and to hold to him the bason at the lauatorie.' (Holinshed, p. 847.) 48. pitch, degree of dignity. 52.1 not believe in. So in The Tempest, v. i. 38 : ' Whereof the ewe not bites.' See Abbott, § 305. sc. 2.] KING -HENR Y VITT. 129 68. estate, state. So in Hamlet, lit. 3. 5 : ' The terms of our estate may not endure Hazard so near us.' 72. Cardinal Campeius, or Campeggio, had his first interview with the King 22nd October, 1528. What follows is from Holinshed : ' But howsoeuer it came about, that the king was thus troubled in conscience concerning his mariage, this followed, that like a wise & sage prince, to haue the doubt cleerlie remooned, he called togither the best leametl of the realme, which were of seuerall opinions. Wherfore he thought to know the truth by indifferent indges, least peraduenture the Spaniards, and other also in fanour of the qneene would sale, that his owne subiects were not indifferent indges in this behalfe. And therefore he wrote his cause to Rome, and also sent to all ijie vninersities in Italie and France, and to the great clearkes of all christendome, to know their opinions, and desired the court of Rome to send into his realme a legat, which should be indifferent, and of a great and profound iudgement, to heare the cause debated. At whose request the whole consistorie of the college of Rome sent thither Laurence Campeius, a preest cardinall, a man of great wit and experience . . . and with him was ioined in com¬ mission the cardinall of Yorke and legat of England.' (p. 906.) 76, 77. have great care I be not found a talker. The King means Wolsey to impress upon the legate that he is sincere in saying ' Use us and it'; that these are not mere words. 82. so sick with pride. Ih. for his place, even to gain his position. 92. Have their free voices, are at liberty to express their opinion freely. Malone connects the clause with the following ' sent.' Crant White reads ' Gave' for ' Have.' 98. eonclave, the College of Cardinals. 105. unpartial, impartial. 106. equal, not only of equal rank, but just and fair-minded. 112. ' And bicause the king meant nothing but vprightlie therein, and knew well that the qneene was somewhat wedded to hir owne opinion, and wished that she should do nothing without counsell, he had hir choose the best clea'rks of his realme to be of hir counsell, and licenced them to doo the best on hir part that they could, according to the truth.' (Holin¬ shed, p. 907.) 114. Gardiner. Stephen Gardiner, afterwards (1,^31) bishop of Winchester, was appointed Secretary 28 July, 1529. ' About this time the king receiued into fauour doctor Stephan Gardiner, whose seruice he vsed in matters of great secrecie and weight, admitting him in the roome of doctor Pace, the which being continur.llie abroad in anibas- sages, and the same oftentimes not much necessarie, by the cardinals 130 jvorEs. [act ii. appointment, at length he tooke such greefe therewith, that he fell out of his right wits.' (Holinshed, p. 907.) Dr. Richard Pace was Vicar of Stepney, and died there, at the age of about forty, in the year 1532, if the inscription on his monument, which is given by Weever (Ane. Fun. Monuments, p. 5401, but which has long since disappeared, is to be trusted. He succeeded Colet as Dean of St. Paul's in 1519. 127. a foreign man, living in foreign parts. 135. Deliver. See i. 2. 143, ii. 3. 106. 137. Black-Friars. ' The place where the cardinals should sit to heare the cause of matrimonie betwixt the king and the queene, was or- deined to be at the Blacke friers in London, where in the great hall was preparation made of s^ts, tables, and other furniture, according to such a solemne session and roiall apparance.' (Holinshed, p. 907.) Scene III. 1-9. This speech of Anne, though not perfect in grammatical form, is quite intelligible, and it is not necessary to emend it, as Theobald does, by reading ' leave's' in line 8. and omitting with Pope ' 'Tis ' in line 9. 10. To give her ike avaunt! to bid her begone. In Dr. Murray's Dictionary there is a quotation from Bishop Barlow's Three Sermons, iii. 132 : ' The diuell tempted him, but he gaue him the auaunt, with the sworde of the spirit.' lb. a pity, a subject for pity or compassion. 14. that quarrel, fortune. If ' quarrel' be the right reading, it must be, as Johnson suggests, an instance of the abstract used for the concrete. So Hanmer understood it when he substituted ' quarr'ler.' We have, similarly, ' affliction ' for ' afflicted woman' in King John, iii. 4. 36; 'blasphemy' for 'blasphemer,' Tempest, v. i. 218; 'charm' for ' charmer,' Antony and Cleopatra, iv. 12. 16 ; ' enchantment' for ' en¬ chanter,' Winter's Tale, iv. 4. 445; 'encotmter' for ' encounterer,' Love's Labour's Lost, v. 2. 82; 'report' for 'reporter,' Antony and Cleopatra, ii. 2. 47, &c. Steevens suggested ' if that quarrel for¬ tune to divorce.' Warburton understood 'quarrel' as the bolt of a crossbow, and in this sense Mr. Lettsom proposed ' Fortune's quarrel.' Other suggestions are to read for ' quarrel' 'squirrel' (Staunton), ' cruel' (Collier's MS. Corrector), or ' queasy' (Kinnear). 15. sufferance, suffering, pain. See v. i. 68, and Measure for Measure, iii. i. 80 : ' And the, poor beetle, that we tread upon. In corporal sufferance finds a .pang as great As when a giant dies.' sc. 3.] KING HENRY VIII. lb. panging, inflicting torment. ' Pang' is used as a verb again in Cymbeline, iii. 4. 98 : 'How thy memory Will then be pang'd by me.' 20. soul and body's severing. Malone quotes Antony and Cleopatra, iv. 13. 6 : 'The soul and body rive not more in parting Than greatness going off.' 21. perKd up, perched up, placed in an elevated position. 23. having, possession, property. See iii. 2.159, and Twelfth Night, iii. 4. 379: ' My having is not much.' lb. maidenhead, maidenhood, virginity. 24. Beshrew me, a strong form of assertion ; literally, may mischief befall me. See note on Twelfth Night, ii. 3. 77. 30. rooM, truth. lb. to queen it, to play the queen. Compare ' to prince it,' Cymbe¬ line, iii. 3. 85. 32. cheveril, flexible, easily stretched, like kid leather. Sherwood (Eng. Fr. Dictionary, in Cotgrave's second edition) has ' Cheuerell lether, Cuir de chevreul.' So in Romeo and Juliet, ii. 4. 87 : ' O, here's a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an inch narrow to an ell broad !' See note on Twelfth Night, iii. i. 12. 36. three-pence. Silver threepences were not struck till 1552. lb. boiv'd, and therefore worthless as money. See Heywood's Pro¬ verbs and Epigrams (Spenser Soc. ed. p. 201): ' No syluer, bowde, broken, clypt, crakt, nor cut.' 40. pluck off a little, abate a little from the dignity ; come to a some¬ what lower rank. Johnson unnecessarily proposed 'pluck up.' 43. vouchsafe, deign to accept. 47. an emballing, an investment with the ball, which was one of the insignia of royalty at a coronation. It was an emblem of the earth and a type of sovereignty. See Henry V, iv. 1. 277-279 ; ' The balm, the sceptre, and the ball. The sword, the mace, the crown imperial. The intertissued robe of gold and pearl.' Strictly speaking, the ball was not used at the coronation of a queen consort, and in the case of Anne Bullen herself, we learn from Hall that the Archbishop placed in her left hand not the ball, but the rod of ivory with the dove. It has consequently been proposed to read, instead of 'emballing,' either 'empalling' or ' embalming.' 46. little England. There is no reason to suppose that more is intended by this than the obvious contrast of ' little England' to ' all the world,' but there may have been a secondary reference to the 132 NOTES. [act ii. fact that Pembrokeshire was known as ' little England,' and that Anne Bullen's first promotion was to be Marchioness of Pembroke. Steevens quotes from Taylor the Water Poet's A Short Relation of a Long Journey [p. 19, Spenser Society's reprint]: ' Concerning Pembrookshire, the people do speak English in it almost generally, and therefore they call it little Eingland beyond Wales, it being the farthest south and west county in the whole Principality.' 48. belonged. Seei. 2. 32. 52. values not. See i. i. 88. 61. Commends, delivers. lb. of you. The folios have 'of you, to you.' Pope omitted'of you,' and Capell' to you.' The latter words probably crept in from the next line. 63. Marchioness of Pembroke. Anne Bullen was created Marchioness of Pembroke i Sept. 1532. 'On the first of September being sundaie, the K. being come to Windsor, created the ladie Anne Bullongne mar- chionesse of Penbroke, and gaue to hir one thousand pounds land by the yeare.' (Holinshed, p. 928.) 67. More than my all is nothing. Not only is my all nothing, but more than my all would be as nothing in comparison with what is due from me. 67, 68. nor my prayers Are not, &c. For the double negative, com¬ pare The Merchant of Venice, v. i. 35 : ' He is not, nor we have not heard from him.' 70. Beseech, for ' I beseech,' as ' pray' for ' I pray.' See The Tempest, i. 2. 473 : ' Beseech you, father.' (Abbott, § 401.) 74. to approve, to justify, confirm. So in Hamlet, i. i. 29 : ' He may approve our eyes,' that is, confirm what we have seen. lb. the fair conceit, the favourable opinion. Similarly, in Two Gentle¬ men of Verona, iii. 2. 17 : ' Proteus, the good conceit I hold of thee.' 78. a gem, referring to the carbuncle which was believed to have the power of giving light in the dark. .Steevens quotes from Titus Andro- nicus, ii. 3. 227 : ' Upon his bloody finger he doth wear A precious ring that lightens all the hole.' 80. spoke, have spoken. The past tense was frequently employed where we should now use the periect. So in Two Gentlemen of Verona, i, 1. 70 : ' Sir Proteus, save you! Saw you my master ?' See notes on King John, iii. i. 268, Henry V, iv. 7. 49, and Abbott, § 347. 87. This compelVdfortune, this fortune thrust upon you. ' Compell'd' has the accent on the first syllable, as in Measure for Measure, ii. 4. 57 : ' I talk not of your soul : our compell'd sins Stand more for number than for accomnt.' sc. 4.] KING HENRY VIH. 133 89. forty pence, or ten groats, a trifling wager. There is no need to read ' for two pence' or * for fi' pence,' as has been suggested. Steevens quotes from The Storye of Kyng Daryus, an interlude printed in 1565 : ' Nay, that I will not for fourty pence.' 97- moe. See iii. 2. 5. 99. See 1. 38. 102. on't, of it. See v. 3. 109, and compare 'on's' = of his, iii. 2. 106. 103. If this salute my blood a jot, cause my blood to rise the least in acknowledgement. lb. faints me, makes me faint or weak. ' Faint' is not used by Shake¬ speare as a transitive verb. Scene IV A hall in the Black Friars. 'A greate Hall within the black Friers of London' (Hall, p. 756). Stage direction. This is given from the folios, except that 'Arch¬ bishop' was substituted by Johnson for 'Bishop.' The folios followed Holinshed, who copied Cavendish. A ' Sennet' was a particular set of notes on a trumpet or comet, played at the entry or exit of a procession. See notes in the Clarendon Press editions of Macbeth, Hi. i. 10, Julius Caesar, i. 2. 24, and Lear, i. I. 35. The Archbishop of Canterbury was Warham, who died in 1532. The Bishops of Lincoln, Ely, Rochester, and Saint Asaph were, respectively, John Longland, Nicholas West, John Fisher, and Henry Standish. In an engraving of 'Cardinal Wolsey and his suite in progress,' given in Singer's edition of Cavendish's Life of Wolsey, the two cross-bearers are shewn, preceded by two on horseback carrying the silver pillars. When Wolsey went to France in 1526, he had before him 'his two great crosses of silver, two great pillars of silver, the great seal of England, his cardinal's hat, and a genUeman that carried his valaunce, otherwise called a cloakbag' (Cavendish, ed. 2, p. 150). One of Wolsey's cross-bearers was his chaplain, Robert, son of Rhys ap Meredith (French, Shakespeareana Genealogica, p. 273 note). The two crosses represented, one his archbishopric, the other his legate's office. ' Then had he his two great crosses of siluer, the one of his archbishoprike, the other of his legacie, home before him whither soeuer he went or rode, by two of the tallest priests that he could get within the realme' (Holmshed, p. 920). The pillars were carried by laymen, and were part of the in¬ signia of a (jardinal. They figure in the description of Wolsey given in Roye's ' Rede me and be not wrothe' (ed. Arbor, p. 56): 134 NOTES. [act ii. ' Before h3rm rydeth two prestes stronge / And they beare two crosses right longe / Gapynge in every mans face. After theym folowe two laye men secular/ And eache of theym holdynge a pillar/ In their hondes / steade of a mace.' ' The place where the cardinals should sit to heare the cause of matrimonie betwixt the king and the queene, was ordeined to be at the Blacke friers in London, where in the great hall was preparation made of seats, tables, and other furniture, according to such a solemne session and roiall apparance. The court was platted in tables and benches in manner of a consistorie, one seat raised higher for the iudges to sit in. Then as it were in the midst of the said iudges aloft aboue them three degrees high, was a cloth of estate hanged, with a chaire roiall vnder the same, wherein sat the King; and besides him, some distance from him sat the queene, and vnder the iudges feet sat the scribes and other officers: the cheefe scribe was doctor Steeuens, and the caller of the court was one Cooke of Winchester.' (Holinshed, p. 907, after Caven¬ dish.) Doctor Steevens, the chief scribe, was Stephen Gardiner, after¬ wards Bishop of Winchester. For the rest of the scene the quotation from Holinshed in the Preface will shew how closely the dramatist has followed the chronicler. According to Hall, the King and Queen were summoned to appear before the legates at Blackfriars, on the 28th of May, 1529. But al¬ though this date is given with apparent precision, as ' the morrow after the feast of Corpus Christi,' it is certainly wrong. It was on the 31st of May that the legates sat for the first time, and the bull of the com¬ mission was presented to them by the Bishop of Lincoln, who was appointed, together with the Bishop of Bath and Wells (John Clerk, Master of the Rolls), to summon the King and Queen to appear before the legates on Friday, the 18th of June. The Queen alone attended in person on that day, and protested against the jurisdiction of the Court, the King being represented by his proxies. The legates appointed Monday, June 21, as the dayforgiving their decision on the protest, and the King and Queen were both summoned, and both appeared on that day, which therefore must be taken for the date of this scene. 12. Sir, I desire you do me. There is no ambiguity in the construc¬ tion in Holinshed, who has ' Sir, I desire you to doo me iustice and right.' It is not uncommon, when two infinitives are dependent upon the same verb, for ' to' to be omitted before the first and inserted before the second, as in the next line. See Abbott, § 350. 16. indifferent, impartial: as in Richard II, ii. 3. 116 : 'Look on my wrongs with an indifferent eye.' sc. 4-] KING HENRY VIII. 135 20. to put me off, to discard, divorce me. Holinshed has ' to put me from you.' 29. strove, striven. See Abbott, Shak. Gr., § 343, for other examples of preterites used as participles; ' took' for ' taken,'' rode' for ' ridden,' 'wrote'for'written.' 31. had to him derived, had drawn upon himself. Compare All's Well, V. 3. 265 : ' Things which would derive me ill will to speak of.' 32. gave notice. The negative must be supplied from 1. 30. 40. Against your sacred person, that is, or aught against, &c. 44. was reputed for, had the reputation of being. Compare 3 Henry VI, v. 7. 6: ' Three Dukes of Somerset, threefold renown'd For hardy and undoubted champions.' And Two Gentlemen of Verona, i. i. 41 : ' And he that is so yoked by a fool, Methinks, should not be chronicled for wise.' 47,48. one The wisest prince. Compare Cymbeline, i. 6. 165: ' And he is one The truest manner'd.' Chaucer, The Parlement of Foules (ed. Skeat), 1. 512 : ' I am a seed-foule, oon the unworthieste.' And Nashes Lenten Stuffe (Works, ed. Grosart, vol. v. p. 196), To the Reader: ' Of which the Red Herring is one the aptest.' 57. of your choice. See note on ii. 2. 112. lb. these reverend fathers. ' Then she elected William Warham archbishop of Canturburie, and Nicholas Weast bishop of Elie, doctors of the laws; and John Fisher bishop of Rochester, and Henrie Standish bishop of saint Assaph, doctors of diuinitie, and manie other doctors and well learned men.' (Holinshed, p. 907.) 61. That longer you desire the court, that you ask the court to delay proceedings longer. The fourth folio reads 'defer' for 'desire.' 70. certain, certainly. So in Julius Caesar, iv. 3. 189; 'For certain she is dead, and by strange manner.' 76. make my challenge. ' Challenge' is still used as a law term, when exception is taken to a juryman. 79. Gods dew of mercy. 80. abhor, according to Blackstone, was a technical term of the canon law, corresponding in some measure to the Latin detestor, in the sense of ' to protest strongly against.' The dramatist borrowed the word from Holinshed, p. 908 : ' She did vtterlie abhorre, refuse, and forsake such a iudge.' 85. Have stood to charity, taken the side of charity. So in Corio. lanus, V. 3. 199 : 136 MOTES. [act ii. ' And pray you, Stand to me in this cause.' 88. spleen, malice ; referring to line 82. 90. Or how far further shall, that is, I shall proceed. 95. gainsay my deed, deny what I have done. As in 3 Henry VI, iv. 7. 74 : 'And whosoe'er gainsays King Edward's right.' 98. free of, unaffected by. 101-102. the which before His highness shall speak in, on which point before his highness shall speak. ' In ' = in reference to, concern¬ ing, as in All's Well, i. i. 147 : ' There's little can be said in't.' 107. You sign, mark, set a stamp upon. lb. in full seeming, to all appearance. Holinshed (p. 917) again the source of many expressions in the Queen's speech. After describing the death of Wolsey he adds: ' Here is the end and fall of pride and arrogancie of men exalted by fortune to dignitie : for in his time he was the hautiest man in all his proceedings aliue, hauing more respect to the honor of his person, than he had to his spirituall profession, wherin should be shewed all meekenes, humilitie, and charitie.' III. Gofu slightly o'er low steps. At the accession of Henry VIH in 1509, Wolsey was Dean of Lincoln. He rapidly became Lord High Almoner, Registrar and Chancellor of the Order of the Garter, Lord Treasurer (1512), Bishop of Lincoln and Archbishop of York (1514), and Lord Chancellor in 1515, in which year also the Pope made him Cardinal and Legate a latere. He was then only forty-four years of age. 1X2. powers, persons of rank and influence. ' He had also a great number dailie attending vpon him, both of noblemen & worthie gen¬ tlemen.' (Holinshed, p. 920.) lb. For words Tyrwhitt proposed to read ' wards,' perhaps rightly. 126. Grif. The folios here have 'Gent. Ush.,' that is. Gentleman Usher; and in the second scene ofthe Fourth Act, the Queen is introduced led ' between Griffith, her Gentleman Usher, and Patience her Woman.' 137. government, self-controL 138-139. thy parts Sovereign and pious else, thy other sovereign and pious qualities. For the position of else,' see v. i. 17. 139. speak thee out, describe thee fully. For this emphatic use of 'out' compare Much Ado, iii. 2. 112 : 'The word [disloyal] is too good to paint out her wickedness.' 152. spake, spoken : the preterite for the participle, as in the last century ' drank' was commonly substituted for ' drunk.' Here the sub¬ stitution is probably due to carelessness. Jb. one the least word. See above, 11. 48, 49, ' one the wisest prince.' The folios unnecessarily put a comma at ' one.' sc. 4,] KING HENRY VIII. 137 154. toueh, injurious comment or censure. lb. My lord cardinal, &c. See quotation from Holinshed in Preface. 164. The passages made toward it, the steps taken, or the proceed¬ ings which led up to it. 165. I speak my good lord cardinal, I give testimony in his favour. See iii. i. 125. 166. what moved me to V, with regard to what moved me to it. 171. the Bishop of Bayonne. Not Jean du Bellay, Bishop of Bayonne, but Grammont Bishop of Tarbes. The error was made by Cavendish and copied by Holinshed. See Brewer, Henry VIII, ii. 163. 173. the Duke ^'Or/eawr, second son of Francis I. He succeeded his father in 1547 as Henry II. 177. advertise has the accent on the second syllable, as elsewhere in Shakespeare. 178. As the bishop of Tarbes was not in England till February 1527, before which time the divorce between Henry and Katharine had already been thought of, it may be doubted whether he had any influence in exciting the scruples of the King. 181. The bosom of my conscience, my inmost conscience. Holinshed says : ' Which words once conceived within the secret bottome of my conscience,' and this led Hanmer to adopt Thirlby's conjecture of ' bottom' for ' bosom.' Compare Fletcher, the Spanish Curate, iv. 5: ' 'Twill purge the bottom of their consciences." 183. which refers loosely to the whole process just described. 184. mazedconsiderings, bewildered reflexions. See iii. 2. 135. 185. caution, warning. 195. gladded, gladdened. See v. i. 71. \-a«/w««?>« is said to be a corruption oipraemonere. 'This offence is called a Premunire of the words of the Writ.... For the words of the Writ be. Rex vicecomiti, &c. Premunire fac, A. B. &c. And rightly it is so called, for he that is prcemonitus is preemunitus.' Ibid. 342. To forfeit all your goods. See. 'After this, in the kings bench his matter for the premunire, being called vpon, two attumeis, which he had authorised by his warrant signed with his owne hand, confessed the action, and so had iudgement to forfeit all his lands, tenements, goods, and cattels, and to be out of the kings protection.' Holinshed, p. gcg. sc. 2.] KING HENRY VIH. 149 351. Farewell! Printed ' Farewell ?' in the folios, where the note of interrogation commonly does duty for one of exclamation. But Hunter lays stress on the interrogation and interprets, ' Did I say " Fare¬ well?" . . . Yes, it is too surely so—"a long farewell to all my greatness!"' 353. blossoms. It is quite immaterial whether this be regarded as a substantive or a verb. In the folios it has a capital letter, and is taken to be the former. 360. This many summers. ' This' is frequently used with a numeral where we should employ the plural 'these.' Compare 1 Henry IV, iii. 3. 54: 'I have maintained that salamander of yours with hre any time this two and thirty years.' Also Genesis xxxi. 38 : ' This twenty years have I been with thee.' The whole series of years is reckoned as one period. 368. would aspire to, would rise or mount to. In Titus Andronicns, i. I. 177: ' That hath aspired to Solon's happiness,' 'aspired to' means not only 'desired to attain,' but 'attained.' In the New English Dictionary Dr. Murray gives several instances of this sense of' aspire.' 369. aspect has the accent on the second syllable, as everywhere else in Shakespeare. See v. 1. 89. lb. their ruin, the ruin caused by them. Unnecessarily altered by Pope to ' our ruin,' and by Hanmer to ' his ruin,' the latter having substituted ' he' for ' we' in the previous line. 371. like Lucifer. See Isaiah xiv. 12 : 'How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning!' 375. an, if. Printed 'and' in the folios. It is Scandinavian in origin, and Professor Skeat quotes the Icelandic enda, which is also used in the sense of' if.' 393. Sir Thomas More. ' On the foure & twentith of Nouember, was sir Thomas Moore made lord chancellor, & the next day led to the Chancerie by the dukes of Norffolke and Suffolke, and there sworne.' Holinshed, p. 910. 399. a tomb of orphani tears. The figure of speech involved in this phrase will not bear very minute examination ; but it is not without parallel, and a similar conceit is quoted by Steevens from Drummond of Hawthomden's Teares for the Death of Meliades (Prince Henry): ' The Muses, Phoebus, Love, have raised of their teares A crystal tomb to him, through which his worth appeares.' (Drummond's Works, ed. Tumbull, p. 80.) Johnson remarks,' The chancellor is the general guardian of orphans.' 401. Cranmer was nominated to the Archbishopric of Canterbury by NOTES. [act III. sc. 2. Bull 21 Feb. 1533, more than two years after Wolsey's death. ' In the season of the last summer [23 August 1532] died William Warham archbishop of Canturburie, and then was named to that sea Thomas Cranmer the kings chapleine, a man of good learning, and of a vertuous life, which latelie before had beene ambassador from the king to the pope.' Holinshed, p. 929. 403. the Lady Anne. ' After that the king perceiued his new wife to be with child, he caused all officers necessarie to be appointed to hir, and so on Easter euen she went to hir closet openlie as queene; and then the king appointed the daie of hir coronation to be kept on Whitsundaie next following.' Holinshed, p. 929. 405. in open, openly; in imitation of the Latin in aperto. 'Perhaps,' says Steevens, ' introduced by Ben Jonson, who is supposed to have tampered with this play.' Whether the phrase is Ben Jonson's or not, it rather smacks of the University man than of Shakespeare, and is not English. 406. the voice, the public talk. See iv. 2. 11. 409. gone beyond, overreached. So in i Thess. iv. 6: ' That no man go beyond and defraud his brother in any matter.' 412. the noble troops. According to Cavendish, in his Life of Wolsey (p. 102, ed. 2), there were as many as five hundred in Wolsey's house¬ hold. But in other copies of the Life the numbers vary. 431. thy honest truth. Cromwell defended Wolsey when he was attacked in Parliament, ' so that at length, for his honest behaviour in his master's cause, he grew into such estimation in every man's opinion, that he was esteemed to be the most faithfullest servant to his master of all other, wherein he was of all men greatly commended.' Cavendish, Life of Wolsey, ed. 2, p. 274. It must be observed, however, that this passage is not copied either by Stow or Holinshed, and is not therefore likely to have suggested what is in the text here. lb. to play the woman. Compare Macbeth, iv. 3. 230: ' O, I could play the woman with mine eyes.' And Henry V, iv. 6. 31: ' And all my mother came into mine eyes And gave me up to tears.' Also Hamlet, iv. 7. 190: ' When these are gone The woman will be out.' 452. an inventory. ' And also there was shewed a writing sealed with his seale, by the which he gaue to the king all his mooueables and vnmooueables.' Holinshed, p. 912. 453- ''y fobe. ' Yet for all that he died in the waie toward London, carrieng more with him out of the world than he brought into it; ACT IV. SC. I.] KING HENR Y VIII. namelie a winding sheete, besides other necessaries thought meet for a dead man, as christian comelinesse required.' Holinshed, p. 922. 456. Had I but served my God, See. ' Master Kingston (quoth the caidinall) I see the matter how it is framed : but if I had serued God as diligentlie as I have doone the king, he would not haue giuen me ouer in my greie haires.' Holinshed, p. 917 (from Cavendish). ACT IV. Scene I. The date of this Scene was Whitsunday, ist of June, 1533. The two gentlemen who met at the opening of Act II. again meet. 6. offedd sorrow. Compare ' offer miseries,' iii. 2. 389, 390. II. Pageants and sights of honour. An elaborate description of these is given by Holinshed. 15. Of those thai claim their offices, Sie. ' In the beginning of Maie, the king caused open proclamations to be made, that all men that claimed to doo anie seruice, or execute anie office at the solemne feast of the coronation by the waie of tenure, grant, or prescription, should put their grant three weekes after Easter in the Starrechamber before Charles duke of Suffolke, for that time high steward of England, and the lord chancellor and other commissioners. The duke of Norffolke claimed to be erle marshall, and to exercise his office at that feast.' Holinshed, p.930. 21. beholding, See note on Julius Csesar, iii. 2.63. 24. The Archbishop, &c. 'Wherevpon the archbishop of Canlur- burie accompanied with the bishops of London, Winchester, Bath, Lin- colne, and diuers other learned men in great number, rode to Dunstable, which is six miles from Ampthill, where the princesse Dowager laie, and there by one doctor Lee she was cited to appeare before the said archbishop in cause of matrimonie in the said towne of Dunstable, and at the daie of appearance she appeared not, but made default, and so she was called peremptorie euerie daie fifteene dales togither, and at the last, for lacke of appearance, by the assent of all the learned men there present, she was diuorsed from the king, and the mariage declared to be void and of none effect.' Holinshed, pp. 929, 930. 27. Dunstable. Cranmer held his court at Dunstable Priory, and the divorce was pronounced in the Lady Chapel. 28. Ampthill. At Ampthill Castle, which, according to Camden, was built by Sir John Cornwall, Baron Fanhope, in the reign of Henry VI. It passed into the possession of Edmund Grey, Earl of Kent, and from his grandson Richard it was transferred to Henry VII, by whom it was annexed to the Crown property. 152 NOTES. [act iv. 28. lay lodged. So in Richard III, ii. 4. i : •Last night, I hear, they lay at Northampton.' the late marriage, the marriage which till lately had been re¬ garded as valid. Staunton suggests that it means Katharine's second or later marriage, as distinguished from her first marriage with Prince Arthur. 34. Kimbolton. Spelt ' Kymmalton ' in the first and second folios. ' The princesse Dowager lieng at Kimbalton, fell into her last sicknesse.' Holinshed (p. 939) puts this as the first entry for the year 1536. Katha¬ rine died on January 8th, and was buried at Peterborough. 36. The order of the Coronation. Holinshed's account (see Preface), which is taken fi-om Hall, is in the main followed. In the description of the procession Garter is only ' in his cote of armes,' but it is after¬ wards said ' euerie King of armes put on a crowne of coper and guilt.' The Marquess Dorset, who carried the sceptre, was Henry Grey, third marquess, great grandson of Elizabeth Woodville, queen of Edward IV, and father of Lady Jane Grey. He succeeded his father in 1530, and became Duke of Suffolk in 1551, after the death of Charles Brandon, whose daughter he married. The earl of Surrey is called by Holin¬ shed the earl of Arundel, William Fitz Alan who claimed to be high butler, and he carried a rod of ivory and not of silver. Instead of the Duke of Norfolk, who was absent in France, Holinshed mentions Lord William Howard, his half-brother, ancestor of the Howards of Effingham. The old duchess of Norfolk, who carried the Queen's train, was Agnes, daughter of Hugh Tylney, and widow of Thomas Howard, second Duke of Norfolk. She was the mother of Lord William Howard, who acted on this occasion as deputy Earl Marshal for his brother. The dramatist probably wished to avoid introducing two new characters. In the description of the Queen, the folio reading ' in her hair' is supposed by Dyce to be' an error occasioned by the immediately preceding " in her robe,"' but Holinshed has ' in hir here coiffe and circlet as she had the saturdaie,' that is, on the day of her progress through the city, when the same chronicler says 'hir haire hanged downe, but on hir head she had a coife with a circlet about it full of rich stones' (p. 931). 46. strains, embraces, hugs. 50. all [who] are. 54. Their coronets say so. ' Euerie countesse a plaine circlet of gold without flowers.' Holinshed, p. 933. 62. See the quotation from Holinshed in the Preface. 67. opposing. Compare Lear, iv. 7. 32 : 'Was this a face To be opposed against the warring winds?' where the quartos have ' exposd.' sc. 2.] KING HENRY VIII. 72. the shrouds or standing rigging of a ship. See King John, V- 7- 53- 92. parted. See iii. i. 97. 94. To York-place. ' After that the cardinall was attainted in the premunire, & was gone northward, he made a feoffement of the same place to the king, and the chapiter of the cathedrall church of Yorke by their writing confirmed the same feoffement, & then the king changed the name and called it the kings manor of Westminster, and no more Yorke place.' Holinshed, p. 923. lb. where the feast is held. This is not correct. The Coronation feast was held in Westminster Hall. 97. Whitehall. ' He also seized into his hands the said archbishop's house, commonly called Yorke place, and changed the name thereof into White hall.' Stow's Survey of London (ed. Thoms), p. 167. 101. Winchester. 'Stephen Gardner (which after the cardinals death was made bishop of Winchester).' Holinshed, p. 939. 102. preferrd from, promoted from being. So in Richard HI, iv. 2.82: ' Say it is done. And I will love thee, and prefer thee too.' loS. Thotnas Cromwell. ' The assessment of the fine' for knighthood at Anne's Coronation ' was appointed to Thomas Cromwell, maister of the kings iewell house, & councellor to the King, a man newlie receined into high fauour.' Holinshed, p. 929. He was made master of the jewel-house 14 April, 1532, and was a Privy Councillor at the be¬ ginning of 1531. Scene II. Kimbolton Castle, in Huntingdonshire, the scene of Katharine's last illness and death, and now the seat of the Duke of Manchester, was, says Camden (Britannia, ed. 1610, p. 501), 'the habitation in times past of the Mandeviles, afterwards of the Bohunsand Staffords,' and in his own time of the Wingfields. The wing which was occupied by Katharine still remains, and the room in which she died, with her boudoir adjoining, have escaped the hand of the restorer. Her travelling chest is preserved, and some pictures, which tradition says belonged to her, hang on the walls. (See Court and Society from Elizabeth to Anne, ed. by the Duke of Manchester, i. 1-3.) The Queen had removed to Kimbolton from Buckden, near Huntingdon, afterwards the palace of the Bishops of Lincoln. Griffith, here Katharine's gentleman usher, was Griffin Richardes her receiver-general. See Brewer, Henry VIII, ii. 343, note 3. Cavendish, 154 NOTES. [act iv. describing the Queen's trial, says 'She took her way straight out of the house, leaning (as she was wont always to do) upon the arm of her General Receiver, called Master Griffith.' Life of Wolsey, p. 217. 6. Cardinal Wolsey died on St. Andrew's eve, 29th of November, 1530, more than five years before Katharine. 10. happily, haply, perhaps. 11. voice. See ill. 2.406. 12. Earl Northumberland. Henry Percy, sixth Earl, said by Caven¬ dish to have been in early life betrothed to Anne Sullen. He was then a page in Wolsey's household. 13. Arrested him at York. The arrest actually took place on Friday, November 7th, at Cawood, where Wolsey was preparing for his installation at York on the following Monday. The Earl of Northumberland was led by the Cardinal into his bed-chamber, ' and they being there all alone, the earle said vnto the cardinall with a soft voice, laieng his hand vpon his anne: My lord I arrest you of high treason.' Holinshed, p. 915. lb. brought him foi-ivard from Cawood to Pomfret Abbey, thence to Doncaster, where he lodged at the Black Friars' Monastery, and thence to Sheffield Park. 15. He fell sick suddenly at Sheffield Park, a seat of the Earl of Shrewsbury, where he stayed eighteen days. His next stage was Hard- wick Hall, in Nottinghamshire, four miles from Newstead, 'where he laie all night verie euill at ease. The next daie he rode to Notingham, and there lodged that night more sicke : and the next daie he rode to Leicester abbeie, and by the waie waxed so sicke that he was almost fallen from his mule; so that it was night before he came to the abbeie of Leicester, where at his comming in at the gates, the abbat with all his conuent met him with diuerse torches light, whom they honorablie receiued and welcomed. 'To whom the cardinall said: Father abbat, I am come hither to lay my bones among you, riding so still vntill he came to the staires of the chamber, where he allighted from his mule, and master Kingston led him vp the staires, and as soone as he was in his chamber he went to bed. This was on the Saturday at night, and then increased he sicker and sicker, vntill mondaie, that all men thought he would haue died.' Holinshed, p. 917. 17. with easy rocuis, by easy journeys. Cavendish, in his Life of Wolsey (ed. 2, p. 373), gives an account of the conversation he had with the Cardinal, in which he announced, as a mark of the King's favour, the arrival of Sir William Kingston, the Constable of the Tower, to escort him to the King : ' Willing also Master Kingston to remove you with as much honour as was due to you in your high estate; and to convev sc. i.] KING HENRY VIII. 155 you by snch easy journeys as ye shall command him to do.' But this portion of the Life was not copied by Holinshed, and could not have suggested the expression in the text. 19. covent is the form given in Stow's Annals (ed. 1580), p. 976, where this narrative first appears. Holinshed has ' conuent.' ' Covent,' which survives in Covent Garden, is apparently the earlier form, though 'convent' is found in Lord Bemers' translation of Froissart, 1.123-5. Shakespeare uses ' covent' in Measure for Measure, iv. 3.133 ; ' One of our covent'; and Cotgrave, Fr. Diet, gives 'Convent: A Couent, Cloister, or Abbey of Monkes, or Nunnes.' 25. three nights after this, ' on tuesdaie saint Andrewes euen." Holin¬ shed, p. 917. 26. About the hour of eight. ' Incontinent the clocke stroke eight, and then he gaue up the ghost, and departed this present life: which caused some to call to remembrance how he said the daie before, that at eight of the clocke they should loose their master.' Holinshed, p. 917. 32. to speak him, to describe him. See ii. 4.140; iii. 1.125. 33. &c. He was a man, &c. ' This cardinall (as you may perceiue in this storie) was of a great stomach, for he compted himselfe equall with princes, & by craftie suggestion gat into his hands innumerable treasure ; he forced little on simonie, and was not pittifull, and stood affectionate in his owne opinion : in open presence he would lie and saie vntruth, and was double both in speach and meaning: he would promise much & performe little: he was vicious of his bodie, & gaue the clergie euill example.' Holinshed, p. 922. 34. stomach, pride, haughtiness. Compare Psalm ci. 7 in the Prayer Book Version.' Whoso hath also a proud look and high stomach : I will not suffer him.' 35- suggestion, crafty dealing. See Richard HI, iii. 2.103: 'Then was I going prisoner to the Tower, By the suggestion of the queen's allies.' 36. Tied. The folios read' Ty'de' or ' Ty'd,' and if this is the true reading it must signify that Wolsey brought the whole kingdom into a condition of bondage by his exactions and commissions, ' gleaning all the land's wealth into one' (iii. 2. 284); so that, as was said at the time, ' if men should gene their goodes by a Commission, then wer it worse then the taxes of Fraunce, and so England should be bond and not free.' Hall's Chronicle (ed. 1809, p. 696). But Hanmer substituted ' Tyth'd,' and of course this also is capable of a certain meaning, though the con¬ tribution which Wolsey endeavoured to levy for the king's wars was one-sixth part of men's substance. See above i. 2. 58. 45. Men's evil manners live in brass, &c. For this sentiment Steevens quotes from Beaumont and Fletcher's Philaster (v. 3); 156 NOTES. [act iv. ' All yonr better deeds Shall be in water writ, bnt this in marble.' Many other instances might be given. Shakespeare put it somewhat differently in Julius Caesar, iii. 2. 80, 81 : ' The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones.' For the expression ' to write in water,' compare Catullus, Ixx. 4; ' Dicit: sed mulier cupido quod dicit amanti. In vento et rapida scribere oportet aqua.' 48, &c. ' This cardinall (as Edmund Campian in his historie of Ire¬ land describeth him) was a man vndoubtedly home to honor : I thinke (saith he) some princes bastard, no butchers sonne, exceeding wise, faire spoken, high minded, full of reuenge, vitious of his bodie, loftie to his enimies, were they neuer so big, to those that accepted and sought his freendship woonderfnll courteous, a ripe schooleman, thrall to affections, brought a bed with flatterie, insatiable to get, and more princelie in bestowing, as appeareth by his two colleges at Ipswich and Oxenford, the one ouerthrowne with his fall, the other vnfinished, and yet as it lieth for an house of students, considering the appurtenances incompar¬ able thorough Christendome, whereof Henrie the eight is now called founder, bicause he let it stand ... a great preferrer of his seruants, an aduancer of learning, stout in euerie quarell, neuer happie till this his ouerthrow. Wherein he shewed such moderation, and ended so per- fectlie, that the houre of his death did him more honor, than all the pompe of his life passed.' Holinshed, p. 917. 50. Was fashioned to much honour from his cradle. This reading, which is substantially Theobald's, corresponds to the narrative of the historian above given that he was ' borne to honor.' The folios have ' Was fashion'd to much Honor. From his Cradle He was a Scholler,' &c. Some commentators have endeavoured to justify this, but although Wolsey, 'being but a child, very apt to be learned' (Holinshed), was sent by his parents to Oxford, and was a boy bachelor at fifteen, there is no evidence of such abnormal precocity as is implied in the reading of the folios. 59. Ipswich. The gateway of Wolsey's college at Ipswich still remains. lb. Oxford. Christchurch was founded by Wolsey. Its first name was Cardinal College. 60. the good thai did it, that is, the wealth and munificence of the founder. The expression is evidently intended to imitate the words of the chronicler, ' the one ouerthrowne with his fall,' but it is not very precise and has been variously interpreted. Some take ' good' to mean sc. 2.] KING HENRY VIII. 157 ' goodness,' as in line 47 above. Others understand by ' good,' ' good man,' and interpret it of the founder. Wolsey's estates, by reason of the praemunire, had reverted to the King. 78. Cause the musicians play. Compare 1. 128, and i Henry VI, i. 1. 67 ; ' These news would cause him once more yield the ghost.' 82. The Vision is rather a clumsy device to render visible to the spectators in the theatre what the attendants on the stage were not sup¬ posed to see. 92. I shall, assuredly, that is, wear them, or be worthy to wear them. 94. phe music, the band of musicians. See iv. i. 91. lb. leave, leave off, cease. 107. Admit him entrance, allow him to enter. No instance of such a phrase occurs in Shakespeare. no. Capucius 01 Chscpays,. 'The princesse Dowager lieng at Kim- balton, fell into hir last sicknesse, whereof the king being aduertised, appointed the emperors ambassador that was legier here with him named Eustachius Caputius, to go to visit hir, and to doo his commendations to hir, and will hir to be of good comfort. The ambassador with all dilig¬ ence did his duetie therein, comforting hir the best he might: but she within six daies after, perceiuing hir selfe to wax verie weake and feeble, and to feele death approching at hand, caused one of her gentlewomen to write a letter to the king, commending to him hit daughter and his, beseeching him to stand good father vnto hir: and further desired him to haue some consideration of hir gentlewomen that had serued hir, and to see them bestowed in marriage. Further, that it would please him to appoint that hir seruantes might haue their due wages, and a yeeres wages beside. This in effect was all that she requested, and so immediatelie herevpon she departed this life the eight of Januarie at Kimbalton afore¬ said, and was buried at Peterborow.' Holinshed, p. 939. 126. 127. and my poor name [shall he\ BanisEd the hingdoJn. For a similarly loose construction, see v. i. 19. 127. that letter. The letter is given in full by Lord Herbert of Cher- bury, in his Life of Henry VIH, p. 403, from Polydore Virgil. 128. caused you write. See iv. 2. 78. 132. model, copy, image; used like ' pattern ' both for that which is made from a copy, and for that which serves as copy. See Richard H, i. 2. 28 : ' In that thou seest thy wretched brother die. Who was the model of thy father's life.' 140. my wretched women. According to the letter there were but three. After the Pope's curse on the King and the realm had been set up at Dunkirk, the Duke of Suffolk was sent to Katharine, who was then 158 NOTES. [act v. living at Buckden, with orders to rednce her establishntent as a ptmish- ment for having procured the curse. He therefore ' discharged a great sort of hir honshold semants, and yet left a conuenient number to serue hir like a princesse, which were swome to serue hir not as queene, but as princesse Dbwager. Such as tooke that oth she vtterlie refused, and would none of their semice, so that she remained with the lesse number of semants about hir.' Holinshed, p. 936. 146. let him be a noble, even supposing him to be a nobleman. Com¬ pare i. 3. 4 : ' Nay, let 'em be unmanly.' 169. With maiden flowers. Compare Hamlet, v. i. 255, 256: 'Yet here she is allow'd her virgin crants. Her maiden strewments.' ACT V. Scene I. The date of this scene is probably 1544 or 1545, but it is uncertain when Cranmer was summoned before the Council. Sir Thomas Lovell died twenty years before in 1524. Cromwell, who appears in the third scene of the Act, was beheaded 24 July, 1540, and the Princess Elizabeth was bom 7 .Sept., 1533. There has been, therefore, no attempt on the part of the dramatist to follow the chronological order of events. 5. these times. Unnecessarily repeated as, in the Prologue, ' things now, &c.. We now present.' The same hand was probably at work. 7. primero, an ancient game of cards, of Spanish or Italian origin. In the former language it is called primera, in the latter primiera. Both these appear to be essentially the same with the French prime, which is one of the games played by Gargantua, and described by Duchat in his notes on Rabelais, i. 22. AMien Falstaff laments that his fortune left him since he forswore himself at primero (Merry Wives, iv. 5. 104), he perhaps refers to some occasion on which he falsified the reckon¬ ing of the points on his cards. In the account of the game which is to be found in the Dictionary of the Spanish Academy, the following values are given for the several cards. The seven, which is the highest (the eight, nine, and ten being, probably, discarded), is worth 21 points; the six, 18; the five, 15 ( the ace, 16; the two, 12; the three, 13; and the four, 14. Four cards are dealt to each player, and the number of players may apparently be four or more. The holder of a flush, that is, four cards of the same suit, is the winner, though his cards may be numeric¬ ally inferior to those of his opponents. The next best hand is prime. sc. I.] KING HENRY VIII. 159 or fifty-five, that is, the seven, six, and ace. A story is told in Sir John Harington's Nugae Antiquae (vol. i, p. 197, ed. 1779) of a game at primero between Henry VIII and one Domingo or Dundego. The King held fifty-five, and, snpposing himself the winner, threw his cards on the table with great laughter. Domingo held flush, but seeing the King so merry, was courtier enough not to declare it. How the game was played is very uncertain. The principal description of it is to be found in Minshew's Spanish Dialogues at the end of his Spanish Dic¬ tionary (1599), p. 26. See also Card Essays by Cavendish (Henry Jones), p. 57. 8. must [go]. For the ellipsis of the verb of motion in such cases, see Abbott, 5 405, and 2 Henry IV, iii. 2. 310: ' I must a dozen mile to-night.' 13. walk. Compare Winter's Tale, iii. 3.17 : •I have heard, but not believed, the spirits o' the dead May walk again.' 15. wilder, more irregular, disturbed. Compare 2 Henry IV, i. i. 9: ' The times are wild.' 17. commend, commit, deliver. So in Lear, ii. 4. 28 : ' I did commend your highness' letters to them.' And Macbeth, i. 7. 11; ' This even-handed justice Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice , To our own lips.' 19. atui £th]/eard. Compare iv. 2. 127. 20. goes with. Compare 2 Henry IV, v. 4. 10 : 'An the child I now go with do miscarry.' 22. good fortune, that is, a happy delivery. So in Winter's Tale, ii. I. 20 : ' Good time encounter her! ' 28. way, which elsewhere (i. 3. 59) occurs in the sense of a course of life or conduct, is here used specially of religious belief. This usage is perhaps derived from the New Testament. In Acts ix. 9,23,' that way ' means the Christian religion. 34, 35. ' Thomas Cromwell secretarie vnto the king, and maister of the rols, was made lord keeper of the priuie scale.' Holinshed, pp. 940, 941. He became Master of the Rolls 8 Oct. 1534, and was King's Secretary in April, 1534, or earlier. 34. is made. Theobald, to mend the grammar, reads ' he's made.' 36. gap, the opening through which preferments pass. lb. trade, beaten path. Compare the Version of Proverbs xxii. 6 in the Geneva Bible of 1560: 'Teache a childe in the trade of his way, and when he is olde, he shal not departe from it.' And Richard II, iii. 3- 1.56 : i6o j\roT£:s. [act v. 'Or I'll be buried in the king's highway, Some way of common trade, where subjects' feet May hourly trample on their sovereign's head.' 37. the time, the present state of things, present circumstances. Com¬ pare Hamlet, i. 5.188: ' The time is out of joint.' And Macbeth, i. 5.64 : 'To beguile the time. Look like the time.' 43. See the Preface for the account of the attacks on Cranmer', as given by his secretary Ralph Morice, and copied by Foxe. lb. Incensed, prompted, provoked them to believe. Knight, following the suggestion of Nares, substituted ' insens'd,' which is used in Stafford¬ shire, and several other counties, for ' inform, instruct.' This may be the correct reading, but having regard to the loose constructions which occur in this scene, I do not think a change is absolutely necessary. 47. broken with, communicated with. Compare Much Ado, i. i. 311 : ' And I will break with her and with her father.' See note on King John, iv. 2. 227. 52. convented, convened, smamoned. Compare Measure for Measure, V. 1. 158: 'What he with his oath And all probation will make up full clear. Whensoever he's convented.' See note on Twelfth Night, v. i. 369 (Clarendon Press ed.). Cotgrave, Fr. Diet., gives 'Convenir eh justice. To bring in suit, conuent before a Judge, enter an action against.' 67. crying out. Isaiah xxvi. 17 : 'Like as a woman with child, that draweth near the time of her delivery, is in pain, and crieth out in her pangs.' 68. sufferance, suffering. See ii. 3. 15. 71. travail, labour; especially used of childbirth. As in Pericles, iii. 1. 14 : ' Make swift the pangs Of my queen's travails.' lb. gladding, gladdening. See ii. 4. 196. Elsewhere 'glad' for ' gladden' is only found in 3 Henry "VI, Titus Andronicus, and Pericles, where Shakespeare's hand is only partially to be traced. 74- estate, condition, state. So in Henry V, iv. I. 99: 'I pray you, what thinks he of our estate ?' 73. For I must think of that which, &c. The King refers to the business relating to Cranmer, whom he had sent for. Mr. Vaughan puts a comma at' that,' which he takes to refer to ' the estate of my poor queen,' and Understands 'which' to mean 'which thinking.' 79. Enter Sir Anthony Denny. Sir Anthony Denny was Groom of «c. r.] KING HENRY VIII. i6i the Stole to H^nry VIII, and one of the King's executors. He was knighted at Boulogne, September 30, 1544. (See Catalogue of the Tudor Exhibition, p. 34.) When the story of his being sent by Henry to Lambeth to fetch Cranmer is told by Morice, the Arch¬ bishop's secretary, he is called ' mr. Deny,' and if any stress is to be laid upon this it would appear that the date of the present scene is before September 30, 1544. He died on September 10, 1549 (Nichols' Narratives of the Reformation, Camden Society, p. 312), or 1550 (Cooper's Athenae Cantabrigienses, i. 99), or 1547 (French, Shake- speareana Genealogica, p. 267), for there appears to be some uncertainty about the year, although the day of the month is the same in the different accounts. The true date is probably 1549. Two portraits of him were in the Tudor Exhibition in 1890. 86. Avoid, quit. See Coriolanus, iv. 5. 25 ; 'Pray you, avoid the house.' lb. Ha! appears to have been an exclamation characteristic of Henry, for in Rowley's When you see me you know me (ed. Elze), p. 19, we find, 'Am I not Harry? Am I not England's king? Ha!' On which the King's jester. Will Somers, comments: ' So la I Now the watchword's given: nay, an he once cry Ha! ne'er a man in the court dare for his head speak again.' See i. 2. 186. 89. aspect has the accent on the last syllable always in Shakespeare. Compare Coriolanus, v. 3. 32 ; 'And my young boy Hath an aspect of intercession.' t02. This morning. See line 145. The scene opens at one o'clock in the morning. Gardiner, forgetting the hour, speaks (line 51) of Cranmer being summoned before the Council ' to-morrow morning.' 105, 166. you must take Your patience to you. Compare Winter's Tale, iii. 2. 232 : ' Take your patience to you.' 107. you a brother of us, you being a Privy Councillor, In Foxe's narrative, which the dramatist followed closely and which is largely founded on the Life of Cranmer by his secretary Ralph Morice, the King is represented as saying, ' Therefore the Counsail have requested me for the triall of this matter, to suffer them to commit you to the Tower, or els no man dare come forth, as witnes in these matters, you being a Coimsellour' (p. 2040). For the omission of 'being' see Abbott, § 381, where The Merchant of Venice, iii. 2. 96, is quoted: ' The skull that bred them in the sepulchre." III. throughly, thoroughly; as in Matthew iii. 12: 'He will throughly purge his floor, and gather his wheat into the gamer.' 117. holidame,a. corruption of 'halidom' (Anglo-Saxon hdligdSni), I62 ATOTES [act v.. literally, holiness; then applied to a holy place or thing, such as a sanctuary or relics of saints, upon which an oath was sworn. As is usual in such corruptions the word is changed into a form which seems to have a meaning and to refer to the Virgin Mary. In the metrical Life of Becket published by the Percy Society, 1. 2173 [2273] we find, ' He swore upe the halidom.' See also Two Gentlemen of Verona, iv. 2. 136: 'By my halidom, I was fast asleep.' 118. What manner of man are ym? This is almost literally from Foxe: ' The king perceyuing the mans vprightnes, joined with such simplicity, said " Oh Lord, what maner a man be yon ? what sim¬ plicity is in you ? I had thought that you would rather haue sued to vs to haue taken the paynes to haue heard you and your accusers together for your triall without any such indurance."' 122. durance, imprisonment The word is twice used by Foxe in the narrative from which this is taken, and which is given at length in the Preface. It has been closely followed in this and the two next scenes and should be compared with them. 125. The good Island on, the good defence on which I rest and to which I trust. Johnson proposed unnecessarily to alter ' good' to ' ground.' 125. I weigh not, I regard of no value, think lightly of. Compare Winter's Tale, iii. 2. 44: ' For life, I prize it As I weigh grief, which I would spare.' 126. vacant, devoid. lb. nothing, not at all. See i. I. 207. 129. practices, plots, stratagems. 130. not ever, not always. Not used elsewhere in Shakespeare. 131. carries. As 'justice and truth' express but the same idea, like ' honesty and truth' in 1. 123, the verb is in the singular. lb. The due 0' the verdict, the right verdict. 132. at what ease, how easily. We should say ' with what ease.' 133. In the first word ' corrupt' the accent is thrown back. Compare King John iii. 3. 17, for a similar change of accent: ' Eli. Farewell, gentle cousin. K. John. Coz, farewell.' 136. Weenyoti, think you. ' Ween' only occurs besides in 1 Henry VI, ii. 5. 88: ' Weening to redeem And have install'd me in the diadem.' 137. in, in respect of. See ii. 4. 103. lb. witness, evidence, testimony. Generally used now of the person giving testimony. 13S. whiles, a variant of'while,'with the adverbial termination sc. 3.] KING HENRY VIII. 163 which was originally the mark of the genitive case. Compare ' toward' and ' towards.' 139. naughty, wicked. Compare The Merchant of Venice, iii. 3. 18 ; 'O, these naughty times Put bars between the owners and their rights!' lb. Go to, go to, an expression of impatience. We should say, ' Come, come.' 140. precipice. The first folio has ' Precepit,' perhaps the early form of the word, from the French precipite, which is given by Cotgrave though it is not recognised by Littre. 143. The trap is laidfor me. The relative pronoun is omitted, as in iii. 3. 103, 219, 242; iv. i. 50, and below, line 16S. lb. Be of good cheer, be cheerful, be of good courage. See note on As You Like It, iv. 3. 163. 'Cheer' is from the French chire, which Cotgrave defines as ' The face, visage, countenance, fauour, looke, aspect of a man; also, cheere; victualls, intertainment for the teeth.' 144. than we give way to, than we permit. See iii. 2. 16. 156. None better, that is, than whom none is better. 159. Enter Old Lady. The same probably who figures in Act ii. Scene 3. 169. Desires your visitation, and to be, &c., desires you to visit her and to be, &c. 172. an hundred marks. A mark was worth 13^. \d. lb. Til to the queen. See v. 1.8. 173- light, a petty oath, as in Much Ado, v. i. 140: ' By this light, he changes more and more.' 174. is for, is fit to receive. We might invert the expression without changing it, and say, ' such pajrment is for an ordinary groom.' 177. unsay, deny, contradict. See Richard II, iv. i. 9: 'I know your daring tongue Scorns to unsay what once it hath deliver'd.' Scene II. I. The Archbishop was sent for at eight o'clock in the morning, and was kept waiting three-quarters of an hour. This we learn from Morice, his secretary, who went to inform Dr. Butts. ' The nexte momyng, ac¬ cording to the kynges monition and my lorde Cranmer's expectation, the counsaile sent for hym by viij of the clocke in the mornyng; and when he came to the counsaile chamber doore, he was not permitted to enter into the counsaile chamber, but stode without the doore emonges servyng men and lackeis above thre quarters of an hower, many conn- sellers and other men nowe and than going in and oute. The matter 164 NOTES. [act v. setned strange, as I than thoughte, and therfore I wente to doctor Bnttes and tolde hym the maner of the thing, who by and by came and kepe my lorde company.' Narratives of the Reformation, Camden Society, pp. 256, 257. Foxe's narrative, although it is founded on Morice's account, msJces it appear that the presence of Dr. Butts was accidental, as in the play. The King was informed of what was going on, but was not an eye-witness. 7. Enter Doctor Butts. William Butts, a Norfolk man, was fellow of Gonville Hall, Cambridge. In 1529 he became a member of the College of Physicians and afterwards physician to the King. He was subsequently knighted. He died Nov. 22, 1545, and was buried in Fulham Church, where was a monument and an inscription to his memory by Sir John Cheke. This fixes the date after which the incident on which the scene is founded could not have happened. If, as Dean Hook supposed, it occurred after the death of the Duke of Suffolk, on August 24, 1545, this would give a superior limit, but there does not appear to be sufficient evidence for the Dean's theory. 13. sound, proclaim. Compare Lucrece, 717 : 'For now against himself he sounds this doom.* And King John, iv. 2. 48: ' To sound the purposes of all their hearts.' Schmidt, in his Shakespeare Lexicon, places the present passage among those in which ' sound' means to fathom, search with a plummet. 15. / never sought their malice, I have never wished to incur their malice. So in 3 Henry VI, iv. i. 80: ' Unless they seek for hatred at my hands.' And compare Coriolanus, ii. 2. 24: ' To seem to affect the malice and displeasure of the people'; as if this were an object to be sought for. 18. 'Mong. To amend the metre Capell reads ' Among,' and Rowe ' and grooms.' ^ 20. Enter the King and Butts at a window above. On this stage- direction Steevens has a note which has been appropriated by Singer: ' The suspicious vigilance of our ancestors contrived windows which overlooked the insides of chapels, halls, kitchens, passages, &c. Some of these convenient peepholes may still be found in colleges, and such ancient houses as have not suffered from the reformations of modem architecture.' An example still remains in the Hall of Trinity College, Cambridge, where there is a panel opening from the Master's Lodge. 21. saw, has seen. 22. Body d me. This exclamation is put into the mouth of Henry in Rowley's When you see me you know me (ed. Elze), p. 67 : ' Body o' me, is she not 'rested yet?' sc. 3.] KING HENRY VIII. And p. 69: ' Body o' me, what everlasting knaves Are these that wrong thee thus!' 28. parted, shared. So in Julius Caesar, v. 5. 81: ' To part the glories of this happy day.' 31. To dance attendance, to wait. See Richard III, iii. 7. 56, and 2 Henry VI, i. 3. 174: ' Last time, I danced attendance on his will.' 35. Exeunt. There is no such stage-direction in the folios. Capell has ' Curtain drawn." No change of scene is marked on the folios, although it is evident that there is a change from the outside to the inside of the Council-chamber. If the stage were divided by a partition or curtain at right angles to the front, so that the audience could see both sides at once, it would explain what happens here as well as the similar change in Romeo and Juliet, between the first and second scenes of Act ii. In the former of these Romeo jumps over the wall of Capulet's orchard and overhears the conversation of Benvolio and Mercutio, who leave the stage in the middle of a rhyming couplet, the second line of which is the first line of Scene 2. Capell appears to have had some such idea, for his arrangement presupposes that the audience can see both the inside and outside of the Council-chamber. In the folios it is difficult to understand what happens, for Cranmer is left on the stage, the King and Dr. Butts at the window above are c9ncealed from view by a curtain, and the stage-direction is, ' A Councell Table brought in with Chayres and Stooles, and placed vnder the State. Enter Lord Chan- cellour, &c.' It is simpler to suppose that there is a new scene. Scene III. If the date of Cranmer's appearance before the Council was 1544 or 1545, the Chancellor was Sir Thomas Wriothesley, afterwards Earl of Southampton, the grandfather of Shakespeare's friend. It is probable that the dramatist supposed it was Sir Thomas More; but, as Theobald pointed out, he had surrendered the seals on May 16, 1532, a year and more before the birth of Elizabeth, and was succeeded by Sir Thomas Audley, who resigned April 21, 1544, and died on April 30 following. 1. master secretary. Cromwell, who is supposed to act as Secretary to the Council, was beheaded July 28, 1540. He became a member of the Privy Council in 1531 after the death of Wolsey. 4. Has he had knowledge of it ? Has he been informed of it? See Winter's Tale, ii. 2. 2 : ' Let him have knowledge who I am.' And I Henry VI, ii. i. 4- ' Let us have knowledge at the court of guard.' 166 NOTES. [act v. 7. Cranmer enters and, &c. The folios have only, 'Cranmer ap- proches the Councell Table.' The addition is renderM necessary by the change of scene. According to the folios, Cranmer must have been standing in the background out of sight. ' 9. this present, this present time. So in Winter's Tale, i. 2. 192 : ' And many a man there is even at this present.' And The Tempest, i. i. 25: 'If you can command these elements to silence, and work the peace of the present, we will not hand a rope more.' II, 12. capable Of our flesh, susceptible of being influenced by our fleshly nature. ' Capable of,' which means sensitive to, occurs more than once. See All's Well, i. i. 106; ' Heart too capable Of every line and trick of his sweet favour.' And King John, ii. i. 476; ' Urge them while their souls Are capable of this ambition.' Pope changed the text to ' capable Of frailty'; Malone reads ' frail, in¬ capable ; Of our flesh few, &c.' Monck Mason proposed ' frail and culpable: Of our flesh, &c.' And Theobald went still further and suggested, though he made no change in his text, ' frail and culpable; Those frailty-free are angels.' 16. and your chaplains. Mr. Vaughan understands this to mean ' your chaplains' teaching,' and would print' chaplains'.' Foxe's narrative has, 'who by hys own preachyng and hys chapleins, had filled the whole Realme full of diuers pernitious heresies' (p. 20401. 22. Pace 'em not in their hands, do not put them through their paces while leading them by the bridle, but mount and control them with bit and spur. Perhaps ' horses hot at hand' (Julius Caesar, iv. 2. 23) may mean horses which are restive only when they are led in this way. 24. the manage, the training or breaking in of a horse. See As You Like It, i. i. 13: ' His horses . . . are taught their manage.' 30. The upper Germany. Referring either to the insurrection of the peasants, led by Thomas Miinzer, in Saxony and Thuringia in 1524 and 1525, or to the sedition of the Anabaptists of MUnster in 1535. Foxe's narrative has merely, ' as of late dayes the lyke was in diuers partes of Germany.' 38. with a single heart, with a heart free from duplicity. The phrase ' singleness of heart' occurs three times in the New Testament; Acts ii. 46, Eph. vi. 5, Col. iii. 2 2. 39. more stirs against, is more active against. See Richard II, i. 2.3: ' To stir against the butchers of his life.' sc. 3.] KING HENRY VIII. 167 The change of' stirs' to 'strives' in Collier's Annotated Folio is there¬ fore quite unnecessary. 47. Be what they will, be they whoever they may. Compare ii. I. 65; I Henry VI, v. 3. 45 : 'Be what thou wilt, thou art my prisoner.' 50. See V. I. 107-109. lb. by thai virttie, by virtue of that. 53. our consent, what we have consented to. 60. See below, line 112. 63. churchman. See i. 3. 55. 66. Lay all the weight ye can tipon my patience, though you tax my patience to the utmost. 69. modest, moderate in my language. Compare Twelfth Night, i. 3. 9: 'Ay, but yon must confine yourself within the modest limits of order.' 11, your painted gloss. Johnson interprets, 'Those that understand you, under this painted gloss, this fair outside, discover your empty talk and your false reasoning.' A 'painted gloss' is a highly coloured, artificial comment, which conceals the real meaning of the speaker as a painted mask conceals the face. Compare Hamlet, iii. i. 53 : ' The harlot's cheek, beautied with plastering art. Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it Than is my deed to my most painted word.' lb. discovers, discloses, reveals. So in Measure for Measure, iii. I. 199: ' I will open my lips in vain, or discover his government.' 77. To load a falling man. See iii. 2. 333. 78. I cry your honour mercy, I beg your pardon; ironically. 81. sound. See iii. 2. 274. 85. This is too much, See. In the folios this speech is given to ' Cham.,' that is, the Lord Chamberlain, but Capell assigned it to the Lord Chancellor to whom it is more appropriate. He made the same change in regard to the speech below, beginning,' Then thus for you, my lord,' without being aware that this had been suggested by Theo¬ bald in a letter to Warburton (Nichols, Illustrations, ii. 468). Theobald in his edition made no alteration. Malone takes credit to himself for making the emendation at Capell's suggestion, whereas Capell not only suggested but made it himself. This is one instance out of many of the shabbiness with which Capell was treated by both Steevens and Malone. 88. voices. See i. 2. 70; ii. 2. 94. 93. I must needs to the Tower. See v. 1. 8.' 99. that ring. This incident of the ring is made use of in Rowley's When you see me you know me (ed. Elze), p. 69: i68 J^OT£S. Tact v. ' Sir William Compton, take my ring, Bid doctor Cranmer haste to court again.' 103. ' Tis the right ring, by heaven. In Foxe's narrative it was the Earl of Bedford who said what is here put into the mouth of the Dukes of Suffolk and Norfolk, and it was possibly from his recollection of the part Suffolk takes here that Dean Hook speaks of him as Cranmer's friend. 108. in value, in estimation. 109. My mind gave me, my mind gave me to understand; I had a misgiving. See Coriolanus, iv. 5.157 : ' And yet my mind gave me his clothes made a false report of him.' 112. only does not qualify 'envy' but 'the devil and his disciples.' See ii. 4. i40,v. 2.17, where 'else' is similarly transposed, and v. 3. 60, ' I shall both find your lordship judge and juror'; that is, shall find you both judge and juror. 113. have at ye I See iii. 2. 309. 119. dear respect, tscnxst, intense regard. Compare Twelfth Night, i. 4. 25: 'Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith.' See notes on Richard II, i. 3. 151, and Hamlet, i. 2. 182. 124, 125. To hear. . .presence They, See. The punctuation is that of the folios. Capell reads: 'To hear such flatteries now, and in my presence; They, &c.' But if the King heard the flattery it is tautology to add that he heard it in his presence. The King says two things: first, that he did not come to hear flattery; and secondly, that when spoken to his face it was too obvious a pretext to conceal something which had been done wrong. 125. They, as Malone explains, are the commendations above- mentioned, which constitute the flattery. There is no need with Rowe to read ' flatteries.' Ih. bare is Malone's conjecture for 'base,' the reading of the folios. In I Henry IV, i. 3. 108, there is a similar interchange of ' base' and 'bare,' the folios reading; 'Never did base and rotten policy Colour her working with such deadly wounds,' while the quartos have ' bare.' But' base' in this passage suits better with ' rotten,' just as in the text before us ' bare' and ' thin' agree together. 125, 126. to hide offences. To me . . . recuh,you, &c. The punctua¬ tion is that adopted by Steevens at the suggestion of Monck Mason. The folios have: ' to hide offences. To me you cannot reach. You play,'&c. sc. 3.] KING HENRY VIII. 169 131. He. Compare 3 Henry VI, i. i. 46: 'The proudest he that holds up Lancaster.' 133' this place is the reading of Rowe. The folios have ' his place,' which Malone defends, and interprets as the office which he holds as privy counsellor. 140. At chamber-door. See v. 2. 17. Compare' at gate,' Lear, iii. 7.16. 146. mean, means. Compare I Henry VI, iii. 2. 10: 'Our sacks shall be a mean to sack the city.' 156. beholding. See i. 4. 41, iv. 1. 21. 161. That is, &c. Rowe changed this to 'There is, &c.,' which makes the construction smoother but is not necessary. Steevens quotes a parallel instance from Romeo and Juliet, iv. 2. 31, 32 : 'This reverend holy friar. All our whole city is much bound to him.' 166-169. Pope and Capell endeavoured, without much success, to treat this as verse. . 166. you'Id spare your spoons. Spoons given at christenings were called ' Apostle spoons,' from having the figure of an apostle on the handle of each. ' It seems to have been an old custom for sponsors at christenings to give one or more such spoons to the child for whom they answered; usually the spoon would bear the figure of the saint in honour of whom the child was named, or the patron saint of the donor, each apostle being distinguished by his own particular emblem.' Cripps, College and Corporation Plate, p. 69. A set of thirteen spoons was presented to Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, by Archbishop Parker. Those which belonged to the Lady Margaret were divided between St. John's and Christ's Colleges in the same University, and six still remain at Christ's. 167. 168. the old Duchess of Norfolk. See note on the procession at the coronation of Anne Boleyn in Act iv. Scene 1. 168. and Lady Marquess Dorset, called in Holinshed (p. 934), ' the old marchipness Dorset widow,' was Margaret, widow of Thomas Grey, second marquess, who died in 1530. She was daughter of Sir Robert Wotton, and her first husband was William Medley. The title' Marquess' is here the equivalent of Marchioness, as in Holinshed's account of the coronation of Anne Bullen (p. 933): ' and euerie marquesse put on a demie coronall of gold,' where Hall (p. 803) has ' Marquesses,' and Stow (Annals, ed. 1580, p. 819)' Marchionesse,'though in the description of the dinner which followed they all agree in placing at one of the tables ' dntchesses, marquesses, countesses, baronesses, in their robes' (Holin¬ shed, p. 934). 175. The common voice. See iii. 2.406, iv. 2. 11. In Foxe's account of Cranmer (Acts and Monuments, ed. 1570,1. 2036) we find, 'it came 170 j\ror£S. [act v. into a common pronerbe, Do vnto my Lord of Canterbury displeasure or a shrewed tume, and then you may be sure to haue him your frend whiles he lyueth.' 177. shrewd, ill-natured, mischievous. So in Julius Csesar, ii. i. 158 : ' We shall find of him A shrewd contriver.' Scene IV. 1. leave, leave off, cease. See iv. 2. 94. 2. the court. See note on i. 3. 18. lb. Paris-garden ot Parish Garden, as it is called in the folios, was the bear garden on Bankside, Southwark. Harsnet in his Declaration of Popish Impostures (1603), p. 59, tells a story of it: ' As I haue heard of a good natured gentleman at Parish-garden, that cryed, take off the dog for shame, and let the poore Beare alone.' Roughly speaking, says Mr. Rendle (Old Southwark and its people, p. 97, note 7), 'Paris Garden is now Christ Church Parish, Blackfriars.' According to Blount (Glossographia),' Paris Garden is the place on the Thames Bank-side at London, where the Bears are kept and baited; and was antiently so called from Robert de Paris, who had a House and Garden there in Richard the Second's time.' 3. gaping, bawling. Reed quotes from Adam Littleton's Latin Dic¬ tionary, 'To gape, or bawl, vociferor.' 9. ale and cakes. See note on Twelfth Night, ii. 3. 109 (Clarendon Press ed.). 13. On May-day morning, when it was the custom to rise early and gather May-dew, which was believed to be of great virtue as a cosmetic. Pepys in his Diary (11 May, 1669) records, ' My wife up by four o'clock, to go to gather May-dew,' a ceremony whith he appears to have encouraged, for under date of 28 May, 1667, he tells us, 'My wife away down with Jane and W. Hewer to Woolwich, in order to a little ayre, and to lie there to night, and so to gather May-dew to-morrow morning, which Mrs. Turner hath taught her is the only thing in the world to wash her face with; and I am contented with it.' He slily adds,' I by water to Fox-hall, and there walked in Spring-garden,' which he found ' mighty divertising.' 20. Samson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colbrand. The reference to Samson is well known. Sir Guy was Guy of Warwick, who, among other feats, slew Colbrand, the gigantic Danish champion, at Winchester in the presence of Athelstan. So at least says the legend as told in Ellis's sc. 4.] KING HENRY VIII. m Specimens of Early English Metrical Romances, ii. 1-94. Colbrand is again referred to in King John, i. 1. 225: 'Colbrand the giant, that same mighty man.' See note on the passage in the Clarendon Press edition. 24. Let me ne'er hope to see a chine again. Spoken like a beefeater. The gentle dnlness of Mr. Collier's MS. corrector led him to substitute 'queen' for 'chine.' 125. And that I would not for a cow, God save her! Staunton, who proposes to read ' my cow,' says, ' The expression " my cow, God save her!" or, "my mare, God save her!" or "my sow, God bless her!" appear to have been proverbial.' And Dyce quotes from the Literary Gazette, 25 January, 1862, 'A phrase evidently identical with that used by Shakespeare (or Fletcher), in the passage in question, exists and is in use to this day in the Soutlx of England. " Oh! I would not do that for a cow, save her tail," may still be heard in the mouths of the vulgar in Devonshire.' 31. Moorfelds, where, says Johnson, the trainbands of the city were exercised. ' In the year 1498, all the gardens, which had continued time out of mind without Moregate, to wit, about and beyond the lordship of Finsbery, were destroyed; and of them was made a plain field for archers to shoot in.' Stow's Survey, ed. Thoms, p. 159. In the great muster of 1539 the citizens assembled in the fields at Mile-end. 36. a brazier was both a worker in brass and a portable fireplace. 38. under the line, where the sun is vertical, and the heat greatest. 33. fire-drake, meteor; as below, line 45. A fire-drake, or fiery dragon, sometimes denoted a meteor or fiery exhalation, such as a will o' the wisp, and sometimes an artificial fire-work or rocket. Com¬ pare Dekker, The Seuen deadly Sinnes of London (Non-Dramatic Works, ed. Grosart, ii. 44): ' Euen then doth this Ignis fatuus (Candle¬ light) walke like a P'ire-drake into sundrie comers.' And The Deuils answer to Pierce Pennyless (Ibid, p, 99): ' Some pittifull fellowes (that haue faces like fire-drakes, but wittes colde as Whetstones, and more blunt).' See also Beaumont and Fletcher, Beggar's Bush, v. 1: ' It may be 'tis but a glow-worm now; but 'twill Grow to a fire-drake presently.' Steevens quotes from Middleton, Your Five Gallants, iii. 2 [Works, ed. Bullen, iii. 184] : ' How many oaths flew toward heaven. Which ne'er came half-way thither, but, like fire-drakes. Mounted a little, gave a crack, and fell.' 41, 42. to blow us, to blow us up, as the phrase is elsewhere found in Shakespeare. In the other passages where it occurs it is not used absolutely as here. See Othello, iii. 4. 135 : 172 NOTES. [act v. 'I have seen the cannon, When it hath blown his ranks into the air.' And Hamlet, iii. 4. S09; ' And blow them at the moon.' 42. a haberdasher's wife of small wit, that is, who dealt in small wit, and had a ready tongue. Malone quotes from the Induction to Ben Jonson's Magnetic Lady,' And all haberdashers of small wit, I presume,' where it clearly means dealers in small wit, coming as it does imme¬ diately after ' poets, poetaccios, poetasters, poetitos.' 43. her pinked porringer, her cap, pinked with eyelet holes and shaped like a porringer or porridge bowl. In The Taming of the Shrew, iv. 3. 64, Petruchio objects to the cap which the haberdasher had brought for Katharina: '1Miy, this was moulded on a porringer.' 45. ' Clubs!' was the regular cry which summoned the London prentices to join in a fight in the streets. See note on As You Like It, v. 2. 36 (Clarendon Press edition). The clubs or truncheons which they carried were supposed to be used in parting combatants. 50. loose shot, straggling or random shooters or skirmishers. A 'shot' was a soldier armed with a musket, as in 2 Henry IV, iii. 2. 295: ' O, give me always a little lean, old, chapt, bald shot.' And i Henry VI, j- 4- 53: ' Wherefore a guard of chosen shot I had.' Again, in Hakluyt's Voyages (ed. Goldsmid, xvi. 17) : ' Our Generall with 30. shot with him went on shore.' 52. let 'em win the 7vork, carry the fortification. So in Othello, iii. 2. 3 : ' That done, I will be walking on the works.' ' Work' in this sense still remains in ' outwork,' and Southwark was probably so called because it was the southern outwork of the city. 55) 56- tke tribulation of Tower hill, or the limbs of Limehouse. There is no reason to believe that these names of the disorderly fre¬ quenters of the theatres had any other origin than the love of alliteration which has an attraction for some writers. Johnson thought that the ' Tribulation' was the name of a puritanical meeting-house, and this supposition has been repeated by subsequent editors. Thomas Warton, without giving any evidence of the fact, says that the inhabitants of those places, that is, "fower-hill and Limehouse, were ' notorious puri¬ tans '; and Steevens goes further and explains that Limehouse, being the residence of many foreigners, 'they assembled themselves under their several pastors, and a number of places of different worship were built in consequence of their respective associations. As they clashed in principles they had frequent quarrels, and the place has ever since sc. 4.] KING HENRY VIII. 173 been famous for the variety of its sects and the turbulence of its inhabitants.' All this has the air of an explanation invented for the occasion. 56. limbs. The full phrase is ' limbs of Satan' or the devil, and was applied to unruly and mischievous youth. In the late C. S. Calverley's verses one of them is defined: ' He was what nurses call a limb, One of those small misguided creatures. Who though their intellects are dim. Are one too many for their teachers.' ' Cocytide. homme cocytide. A lim of the diuell; a most fell, cruell, or hellish fellow.' Cotgrave, Fr. Diet. 57. Limbo Patrum, a cant name for a prison. Limbus Patrum, ac¬ cording to the medieval theologians, was the place where the souls of the fathers of the Old Testament remained till Christ's descent into hell. 58. running banquet. See i. 4. 12. As a banquet was properly the dessert after dinner, the ' whipping cheer' which the rioters were to experience was the proper sequel to their imprisonment. 63. a fine hand, a pretty business. Compare Coriolanus, iv. 6. 117; ' You have made fair hands.' 71, 73. I'll lay ye all By the heels, put you in the stocks. Compare 2 Henry IV, i. 2. 141 : ' To punish you by the heels would amend the attention of your ears.' 74. baiting of bumbards. A bombard was a large leather vessel for holding liquor, round and big-bellied. Compare The Tempest, ii. 2. 21; ' Yond same black cloud, yond huge one, looks like a foul bombard that would shed his liquor.' And in i Henry IV, ii. 4. 497, the Prince calls Falstaff' that huge bombard of sack.' Again, Field, A Woman is a Weathercock (Dodsley's Plays, ed. Hazlitt, xi. 24): ' Heart! she looks like a black bombard with a pint pot waiting upon it.' In Dekker's Match me in London, Act iv, the black-jack and the bombard are mentioned as distinct vessels, the bombard being probably the larger. To bait a bombard was therefore to sit round it drinking heavily. 79. A Marshalsea. The Marshalsea formerly stood near St. George's Church, Southwark. It was latterly used as a debtors' prison, and now no longer exists, but it is familiar to all the readers of Little Dorrit. ' Thirty years ago,' says Dickens, ' there stood, a few doors short of the church of Saint George in the Borough of Southwark, on the left- hand side of the way going southward, the Marshalsea Prison. It had stood there many years before, and ,it remained there some years after¬ wards ; but it is gone now, and the world is none the worse without it.' 82. camlet is now a light stuff made chiefly of wool, but the name is 174 NOTES. [act v, derived from something which was originally made of camel's hair. In the folios it is spelt' chamblet.' Cotgrave (Fr. Diet.) gives,' Camelot: m. Chamlet.' lb. get up o' the rail, that is, off the rail, as some read. 83. peck, pitch. So ' pick' is nsed in Coriolamis, i. i. 204: ' As high As I conld pick my lance.' Scene V. The Palace. The christening of the Princess Elizabeth took place at Greenwich in the Grey Friars Church, on Wednesday, 10 September, I533- The stage direction is mainly taken from the narrative of Hall as given by Holinshed, which will be found in the Preface. In the play the scene is apparently at Westminster. I. Garter's speech is from Holinshed, p. 934 : ' Garter cheefe king of armes cried alowd, God of his infinite goodnesse send prosperous life & long to the high and mightie princesse of England Elizabeth.' 12. gossips, sponsors, the godfather and the two godmothers. Com¬ pare Winter's Tale, ii. 3. 41 : 'No noise, my lord; but needful conference About some gossips for your highness.' ' The Godfather was the lorde Archebishop of Cantorbury: the God¬ mothers were the old Dnches of Norffolke, and the olde Marchiones of Dorset widowes, and the childe was named Elizabeth: and after that al thyng was done, at the churche dore the childe was brought to the Fount, and christened, . . . and after that immediatly the Archebishop of Cantorbury confirmed it, the Marchiones of Excester beyng God¬ mother, then the Archebishop of Cantorbury, gaue to the Princes a standyng cup of gold: the Duches of Norffolke, gaue to her a standyng cuppe of golde, fretted with perale: the Marchiones of Dorset gaue three gilt boulles, potmced with a couer: and the Marchiones of Ex¬ cester, gaue thre standyng holies granen, all gilt with a couer.' Hall, p. 806. ' Gossip' etymologically is godsib, that is, one akin or related in God, ' according to the doctrine of the medieval church, that sponsors con¬ tracted a spiritual affinity with one another, with the parents, and with the child itself (Trench, Select Glossary). This affinity originally con¬ stituted a bar to marriage. ' Owre sib' in Scotch means ' too near akin.' 23. Saba, the queen of Sheba, see-i Kings x. In the English trans¬ lations of the Bible before the Authorised Version, with the exception of the Geneva (1560), the form of the word Saba is adopted from the Latin sc. 5.] KING HENRY V/II. 175 of the Vulgate, and it survives in the Prayer Book Version of Psalm Ixxii. 10 ; ' The kings of Arabia and Saba shall bring gifts." Saba is, of course, properly the name of the country, but as the expression in the Vulgate Regina Saba is ambiguous, it came to be applied to the queen herself, in Marlowe's Faustus (1604), ed. Dyce, p. S7 : ' Be she as chaste as was Penelope, As wise as Saba, or as beautiful As was bright Lucifer before his fall.' 34. Under his own vine, a figure of peace and prosperity borrowed from the language of the Old Testament. See i Kings iv. 25, Micah iv. 4. 37. From her shall read, from her example shall leam. lb. ways of honour. The plural is required by the following line. The folios have ' way.' 39~55- Those who held with Theobald that the play was written in the time of Klizabeth have been obliged with him to suppose that these lines were a later interpolation. 40. the maiden phoenix, so called because, according to the fable, the phoenix did not reproduce itself in the ordinary course of nature. Pliny's account of the bird, which he prefaces by saying ' I cannot tell what to make of him,' is derived from Manilius. ' Hee reporteth, that never man was knowne to see him feeding 1 that in Arabia hee is held a sacred bird, dedicated unto the Sunne : that hee liveth 660 yeares: and when hee groweth old, and begins to decay, he builds himselfe a nest with the twigs and branches of the Canell or Cinamon, and Frankincense trees : and when he hath filled it with all sort of sweet Aromaticall spices, yeeldeth up his life thereupon. He saith moreover, that of his bones & marrow there breedeth at first as it were a little worme: which afterwards proveth to bee a pretie bird. And the first thing that this yong new Phoenix doth, is to performe the obsequies of the former Phoenix late deceased: to translate and carie away his whole nest into the citie of the Sunne neere Panchsea, and to bestow it full devoutly there upon the altar.' Nat. Hist. x. 2, Holland's translation, p. 271. 52. new nations. Referring possibly to the first settlement of Vir¬ ginia in 1607. It lites which follow some discover an allusion to the marriage of the Princess Elizabeth, the daughter of James I, to the Elector Palatine, which took place on 14 February, 1613. 69. my good lord mayor. The Lord Mayor on this occasion was Sir Stephen Pecocke. 70. And your good brethren. These were the Aldermen and Court of Common Council. According to Stow (Annals, ed. 1580, p. 999), ' The Maior and his brethren and fortie of the chiefe Citizens were com- maunded to be at the Christning the Wednesday following; Vpon whiche 176 NOTES. [act v. sc. 5. day the Maior Sir Stephen Pecocke in a gown of Crimosin Veluet, wyth his collar of Esses, and al the Aldermen in Scarlet with collars and chaines, and all the Connsell of the Citie with them tooke their Barge at one of the clocke and the citizens had another Barge, and so rowed to Greenewiche.' 74. no man think, let no man think. 75. Has. The folios read ' 'Has,' which is probably for ' He has.' Epilogue. Johnson expressed a very decided opinion that neither the Epilogue nor the Prologue was the work of Shakespeare, and no one will wish to question this. THE END. I/3/00 Cfaten^on (pveaa Settee* ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE . . pp. 1-6 GEOGRAPHY, ETC . page 6 MATHEMATICS AND PHYSICAL SCIENCE . 7 MISCELLANEOUS The English Language and Literature. HELPS TO THE STUDY OF THE LANGUAGE. 1. DICTZOVABISB. A NEW ENGLISH DICTIONARY, ON HISTORICAL PRIN- CIPLESi founded mainly 00 the materials collected by the Philological Society. Imperial 4to. Edited by Dr. Murray. PRESENT STATE OF THE WORK, f A-» ^ s. d. VoL I.{ ^jBy Dr. Murray Half-morocco 2 13 6 Vol. II. C By Dr. Murray Half-morocco 2 12 6 Vo>-"I-{E}B^MnHENrBKADLEvJ: " " " Half-morocco 6 Vol. V. H-K By Dr. Mukray. F—Field 076 Field—Frankish . . . o 12 6 Fretnk'law—Glass-cloth. . o 12 6 Glass-coach—Graded .050 H—^Hod 12 6 Hod—Horizontal • • o 2 61 „ , a Horizontality—Hywe .050) ^ I—In 050 Boswoztli and ToUez. 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