(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.

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,
As able to perform't;)

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,

That swallow'd so much treasure, and, like a glass,
Did break i' the rincing.

Nor. 'Faith, and so it did.

Buck. 'Pray, give me favour, sir. This cunning cardinal

The articles o' the combination drew,

As himself pleas'd; and they were ratify'd,

As he cry'd, Thus let it 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
England and France might, through their amity,
Breed him some prejudice. He privily
Deals with our cardinal; and, as I trow,→→
Which I do well; for, I am sure, the emperor
Pay'd 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.

Nor. I am sorry

To hear this of him; and could wish, he were
Something mistaken in't.

Buck. No, not a syllable;

I do pronounce him in that very shape,
He shall appear in proof.

Enter SERGEANT AT ARMS, BRANDON, and GUARDS.

Bran. 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.

Buck. Lo you, my lord,

The net has fallen upon me; I shall perish
Under device and practice.

Bran. I am sorry

To see you ta'en from liberty;

'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.

[Gives his Sword to the SERGEANT.

Bran. Here is a warrant from

The king, to attach Lord Montacute; and the bodies
Of the duke's chaplain, nam'd John de la Court,
One Gilbert Peck, his chancellor,—

Buck. So, so;

These are the limbs of the plot: No more, I hope.

Bran. A monk o' the Chartreux.

Buck. O, Nicholas Hopkins?

Bran. He.

Buck. My surveyor is false; the o'er-great cardinal
Has 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.

SCENE II.

The Council Chamber.

Flourish of Trumpets.

Enter the LORD CHAMBERLAIN, KING HENRY, leaning on WOLSEY's Shoulder; NORFOLK, the DUKE OF SUFFOLK, SIR THOMAS LOVEL, and CROMWELL.-The CARDINAL places himself at 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-charg'd confederacy; and give thanks

To you that chok'd it.-[The KING and WOLSEY sit. Let be call'd before us

That gentleman of Buckingham's: in person

I'll hear him his confessions justify;

And, point by point, the treasons of his master
He shall again relate.

Sir Henry Guildford. [Without.] Room for the

queen.

Enter the QUEEN, ushered by GUILDFORD, who places a Cushion, on which she kneels.-The KING rises, takes her up, and places her by him.

King, Rise.

Queen. Nay, we must longer kneel; I am a suitor. King. Arise, and take your place by us:-Half your suit

Never name to us; you have half our power:
The other moiety, ere you ask, is given;
Repeat your will, and take it.

Queen. 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.

Queen. I am solicited, not by a few,

And those of true condition, that your subjects
Are in great grievance: There have been commissions
Sent down among them, which have flaw'd the heart
Of all their loyalties:wherein, although,

My good lord cardinal, they vent reproaches
Most bitterly on you, as putter-on

Of these exactions, yet the king our master,
(Whose honour Heaven shield from soil) even he
escapes not

Language unmannerly, yea, such which breaks
The sides of loyalty, and almost appears
In loud rebellion,

Nor. Not almost appears,

It doth appear: for, upon these taxations,
The clothiers all, not able to maintain
The many to them 'longing,

Compell'd by hunger,

And lack of other means, are all in uproar,
And danger serves among them.

King. Taxation!

Wherein ? and what taxation?-My lord cardinal,

You that are blam'd for it alike with us,
Know you of this taxation?

Wol. Please you sir,

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.

Queen. No, my lord,

You know no more than others: but you frame Things, that are known alike; which are not whole

some

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 them,
The back is sacrifice to the load. They say,
They are devis'd by you: or else you suffer
Too hard an exclamation.

King. Still exaction!

The nature of it? In what kind, let's know,
Is this exaction?

Queen. I am much too venturous

In tempting of your patience; but am bolden'd
Under your promis'd pardon. The subjects' grief
Comes through commissions, which compel from
each

The sixth part of his substance, to be levy'd
Without delay; and the pretence for this

Is nam'd, your wars in France: This makes bold

mouths:

Tongues spit their duties out, and cold hearts freeze Allegiance in them; their curses now,

Live where their prayers did.

I would, your highness

Would give it quick consideration.
King. By my life,

This is against our pleasure.

Wol. And for me,