ACT I. SCENE 1.

London. The palace

Enter the DUKE OF NORFOLK at one door; at the other, the DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM and the LORD ABERGAVENNY

BUCKINGHAM. Good morrow, and well met. How have ye done Since last we saw in France? NORFOLK. I thank your Grace, Healthful; and ever since a fresh admirer Of what I saw there. BUCKINGHAM. An untimely ague Stay'd me a prisoner in my chamber when Those suns of glory, those two lights of men, Met in the vale of Andren. NORFOLK. '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; Which had they, what four thron'd ones could have weigh'd Such a compounded one? BUCKINGHAM. All the whole time I was my chamber's prisoner. NORFOLK. Then you lost The view of earthly glory; men might say, Till this time pomp was single, but now married 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 Made Britain India: every man that stood Show'd like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were As cherubins, all gilt; the madams too, Not us'd 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 th' ensuing night Made it a fool and beggar. The two kings, Equal in lustre, were now best, now worst, As presence did present them: him in eye Still him in praise; and being present both, 'Twas said they saw but one, and no discerner Durst wag his tongue in censure. When these suns— For so they phrase 'em—by their heralds challeng'd 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 believ'd. BUCKINGHAM. O, you go far! NORFOLK. As I belong to worship, and affect In honour honesty, the tract of ev'rything 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 function. BUCKINGHAM. Who did guide— I mean, who set the body and the limbs Of this great sport together, as you guess? NORFOLK. One, certes, that promises no element In such a business. BUCKINGHAM. I pray you, who, my lord? NORFOLK. All this was ord'red by the good discretion Of the right reverend Cardinal of York. BUCKINGHAM. The devil speed him! No man's pie is freed From his ambitious finger. What had he To do in these fierce vanities? I wonder That such a keech can with his very bulk Take up the rays o' th' beneficial sun, And keep it from the earth. NORFOLK. Surely, sir, There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends; For, being not propp'd by ancestry, whose grace Chalks successors their way, nor call'd upon For high feats done to th' crown, neither allied To eminent assistants, but spider-like, Out of his self-drawing web, 'a gives us note The force of his own merit makes his way— A gift that heaven gives for him, which buys A place next to the King. ABERGAVENNY. I cannot tell What heaven hath given him—let some graver eye Pierce into that; but I can see his pride Peep through each part of him. Whence has he that? If not from hell, the devil is a niggard Or has given all before, and he begins A new hell in himself. BUCKINGHAM. Why the devil, Upon this French going out, took he upon him— Without the privity o' th' King—t' appoint Who should attend on him? He makes up the file Of all the gentry; for the most part such To whom as great a charge as little honour He meant to lay upon; and his own letter, The honourable board of council out, Must fetch him in he papers. ABERGAVENNY. I do know Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that have By this so sicken'd their estates that never They shall abound as formerly. BUCKINGHAM. O, many Have broke their backs with laying manors on 'em For this great journey. What did this vanity But minister communication of A most poor issue? NORFOLK. Grievingly I think The peace between the French and us not values The cost that did conclude it. BUCKINGHAM. Every man, After the hideous storm that follow'd, was A thing inspir'd, and, not consulting, broke Into a general prophecy—that this tempest, Dashing the garment of this peace, aboded The sudden breach on't. NORFOLK. Which is budded out; For France hath flaw'd the league, and hath attach'd Our merchants' goods at Bordeaux. ABERGAVENNY. Is it therefore Th' ambassador is silenc'd? NORFOLK. Marry, is't. ABERGAVENNY. A proper tide of a peace, and purchas'd At a superfluous rate! BUCKINGHAM. Why, all this business Our reverend Cardinal carried. NORFOLK. Like it your Grace, 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 revengeful; and I know his sword Hath a sharp edge—it's long and 't may be said It reaches far, and where 'twill not extend, Thither he darts it. Bosom up my counsel You'll find it wholesome. Lo, where comes that rock That I advise your shunning.

Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, the purse borne before him, certain of the guard, and two SECRETARIES with papers. The CARDINAL in his passage fixeth his eye on BUCKINGHAM, and BUCKINGHAM on him, both full of disdain.

WOLSEY. The Duke of Buckingham's surveyor? Ha! Where's his examination? SECRETARY. Here, so please you. WOLSEY. Is he in person ready? SECRETARY. Ay, please your Grace. WOLSEY. Well, we shall then know more, and Buckingham shall lessen this big look. Exeunt WOLSEY and his train BUCKINGHAM. This butcher's cur is venom-mouth'd, and I Have not the power to muzzle him; therefore best Not wake him in his slumber. A beggar's book Outworths a noble's blood. NORFOLK. What, are you chaf'd? Ask God for temp'rance; that's th' appliance only Which your disease requires. BUCKINGHAM. I read in 's looks Matter against me, and his eye revil'd Me as his abject object. At this instant He bores me with some trick. He's gone to th' King; I'll follow, and outstare him. NORFOLK. Stay, my lord, And let your reason with your choler question 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. BUCKINGHAM. I'll to the King, And from a mouth of honour quite cry down This Ipswich fellow's insolence; or proclaim There's difference in no persons. NORFOLK. Be advis'd: Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot 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 advis'd. I say again there is no English soul More stronger to direct you than yourself, If with the sap of reason you would quench Or but allay the fire of passion. BUCKINGHAM. Sir, I am thankful to you, and I'll go along 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. NORFOLK. Say not treasonous. BUCKINGHAM. To th' King I'll say't, and make my vouch as strong

As shore of rock. Attend: this holy fox, Or wolf, or both—for he is equal rav'nous As he is subtle, and as prone to mischief As able to perform't, his mind and place Infecting one another, yea, reciprocally— Only to show his pomp as well in France As here at home, suggests the King our master To this last costly treaty, th' interview That swallowed so much treasure and like a glass Did break i' th' wrenching. NORFOLK. Faith, and so it did. BUCKINGHAM. Pray, give me favour, sir; this cunning cardinal The articles o' th' combination drew As himself pleas'd; and they were ratified As he cried 'Thus let be' to as much end As give a crutch to th' dead. But our Count-Cardinal Has done this, and 'tis well; for worthy Wolsey, Who cannot err, he did it. Now this follows, Which, as I take it, is a kind of puppy To th' old dam treason: Charles the Emperor, Under pretence to see the Queen his aunt— For 'twas indeed his colour, but he came To whisper Wolsey—here makes visitation— His fears were that the interview betwixt England and France might through their amity Breed him some prejudice; for from this league Peep'd harms that menac'd him—privily Deals with our Cardinal; and, as I trow— Which I do well, for I am sure the Emperor Paid ere he promis'd; whereby his suit was granted Ere it was ask'd—but when the way was made, And pav'd with gold, the Emperor thus desir'd, That he would please to alter the King's course, And break the foresaid peace. Let the King know, As soon he shall by me, that thus the Cardinal Does buy and sell his honour as he pleases, And for his own advantage. NORFOLK. I am sorry To hear this of him, and could wish he were Something mistaken in't. BUCKINGHAM. No, not a syllable: I do pronounce him in that very shape He shall appear in proof.

Enter BRANDON, a SERGEANT-AT-ARMS before him, and two or three of the guard

BRANDON. Your office, sergeant: execute it. SERGEANT. Sir, My lord the Duke of Buckingham, and Earl Of Hereford, Stafford, and Northampton, I Arrest thee of high treason, in the name Of our most sovereign King. BUCKINGHAM. Lo you, my lord, The net has fall'n upon me! I shall perish Under device and practice. BRANDON. I am sorry To see you ta'en from liberty, to look on The business present; 'tis his Highness' pleasure You shall to th' Tower. BUCKINGHAM. It will help nothing To plead mine innocence; for that dye is on me Which makes my whit'st part black. The will of heav'n Be done in this and all things! I obey. O my Lord Aberga'ny, fare you well! BRANDON. Nay, he must bear you company. [To ABERGAVENNY] The King Is pleas'd you shall to th' Tower, till you know How he determines further. ABERGAVENNY. As the Duke said, The will of heaven be done, and the King's pleasure By me obey'd. BRANDON. Here is warrant from The King t' attach Lord Montacute and the bodies Of the Duke's confessor, John de la Car, One Gilbert Peck, his chancellor— BUCKINGHAM. So, so! These are the limbs o' th' plot; no more, I hope. BRANDON. A monk o' th' Chartreux. BUCKINGHAM. O, Nicholas Hopkins? BRANDON. He. BUCKINGHAM. 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 dark'ning my clear sun. My lord, farewell. Exeunt