i| 
 
 ib.
 
 HENRY VIII AND ANNE BOLEYN
 
 Copyright, 1 90 1 
 
 By 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY SOCIETY
 
 COLLEGE 
 LIBRARY 
 
 Famous History of the i ^ f^ i 
 
 Life of King Henry VIII. 
 
 Preface. 
 
 The First Edition. ' The Famous History of the Life 
 of King Henry the Eighth ' was printed for the first time 
 in the First Foho. There was no Quarto edition of the 
 play. 
 
 The text of the play is singularly free from corrup- 
 tions ; the Acts and Scenes are indicated throughout ; * 
 the stage directions are full and explicit.! Rowe first 
 supplied, imperfectly, the Dramatis Personae. 
 
 Date of Composition. Henry the Eighth was un- 
 doubtedly acted as 'a nezc play' on June 29th, 1613, and 
 resulted in the destruction by fire of the Globe Theatre 
 on that day. The evidence on this point seems absolutely 
 conclusive : — 
 
 (i.) Thomas Lorkin, in a letter dated "this last of 
 June," 161 3, referring to the catastrophe of the previous 
 day, says : " No longer since than yesterday, while Bour- 
 
 * Except in the case of Act V. Sc. iii.. where no change of 
 scene is marked in the folio. "Exeunt" is not added at the end 
 of the previous scene, but it is quite clear that the audience was 
 to imagine a change of scene from the outside to the inside of 
 the Council-chamber. The stage-direction runs : — ' A Councell 
 Table brought in with Chayres and Stooles, and placed under 
 the state,' etc. 
 
 t The lengthy stage-direction at the beginning of Act. V. Sc. v. 
 was taken straight from Holinshed ; similarly, the order of the 
 Coronation in Act. IV. Sc. i.
 
 Preface FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 bage his companle were acting at the Globe the play of 
 Henry VIII., and their shooting of certayne chambers in 
 the way of triumph, the fire catch'd," etc. 
 
 (ii.) Sir Henry Wotton, writing to his nephew on July 
 2nd, 1613, tells how the Globe was burnt down during 
 the performance "of a new play, called All is True* 
 
 * Cp. Prologue to Henry VIIL, 11. 9, 18, 21 :— 
 'May here Und truth.' 
 
 ' To rank our chosen truth with such a show' 
 
 ' To make that only true zve now intend.' 
 
 The second name of the play may very well have been a coun- 
 terblast to the title of Rowley's Chronicle History of Henry 8th, 
 "When you see me, you knozv me" and perhaps also of Hey- 
 wood's plays on Queen Elizabeth, "If you knozv not me, you 
 know no body." It is possible that both Prologue and Epilogue 
 of Henry VHI. refer to Rowley's play, ' the merry bawdy play,' 
 with its * fool and fight,' and its * abuse of the city.' 
 
 ' When you see Me,' was certainly ' the Enterlude of K. Henry 
 VHL' entered in the Stationers' Books under the date of Febru- 
 ary 12, 1604 (-5), which has sometimes been identified with 
 Shakespeare's play. 
 
 It is noteworthy that the play, first published in 1605. was re- 
 issued in 1613. The same is true of the First Part of Heywood's 
 play. This play of Heywood's called forth the well-known pro- 
 logue, wherein the author protested 
 
 " That some by stenography drew 
 
 The plot: put it in print: scarce one word trew." 
 
 Similarly, the Chronicle History of Thomas Lord Cromzvell, 
 originally printed in 1602, was re-issued in 1613 with the menda- 
 cious or equivocal statement on the title-page, " written by W. S" 
 
 We know from Henslowe's Diary that there were at least two 
 plays on Wolsey which held the stage in 1601, 1602, " The Rising 
 of Cardinal Wolsey/' by Munday, Drayton & Chettle, and ' Car- 
 dinal Wolsey,' by Chettle. 
 
 An edition of Rowley's play, by Karl Elze, with Introduction 
 and Notes, was published in 1874 (Williams & Norgate).
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Preface 
 
 representing some principal pieces of the reign of Henry 
 the 8th. . . . Now, King Henry making a Masque 
 at the Cardinal Wolsey's House, and certain cannons be- 
 ing shot off at his entry,* some of the paper, and other 
 stuff, wherewith one of them was stopped, did light on 
 the thatch," etc. 
 
 (iii.) John Chamberlain, in a letter to Sir Ralph Win- 
 wood {vide Winwood's Memorials), dated July 12th, 
 161 3, alludes to the burning of the theatre, ' which fell 
 cut by a peale of chambers (that I know not upon what 
 occasion were to be used in the play).' 
 
 (iv.) Howes, in his continuation of Stowe's Chronicle 
 (1615) says that the fire took place when the house was 
 ' filled with people, to behold the plav, viz., of Henrv 
 the 8.' 
 
 (v.) Ben Jonson, in his Execration vpon Vulcan, refers 
 to ' that cruel stratagem against the Globe.' 
 
 ' The fort of the zvhole parish, 
 I sazu with tzvo poor chambers taken in, 
 And razed; ere thought could urge this might have heen!'-\ 
 
 Internal evidence seems to corroborate this external 
 
 * I'^ide Act I. Sc. iv. 44-51, with stage direction: — 'Chambers 
 discharged.' 
 
 t There were also several ' lamentable ballads ' on the event ; 
 one of them, if genuine, is of special interest, as it has for the 
 burden at the end of each stanza : — 
 
 " O sorrow, pitiful sorrozv! 
 And yet it all is true ! " 
 The fifth stanza is significant : — 
 
 "Away ran Lady Catherine, 
 Nor waited out her trial." 
 (Vide Collier, Annals of the Stage.) The authenticity of the bal- 
 lad is most doubtful. 
 
 Halliwell doubted the identity of All is True and Shakespeare's 
 play, because he found a reference in a ballad to the fact that 
 ' the reprobates . . . prayed for the Foole and Henrye Con- 
 dye,' and there is no fool in the play, but the ballad does not 
 imply that there was a fool's part.
 
 Preface FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 evidence, and to point to circa 1612 as the date of Henry 
 J'lIL The panegyric on James I., with its probable ref- 
 erence (V. V. 51-3) to the first settlement of Virginia in 
 1607, and to subsequent settlements contemplated in 
 1612 * (or to the marriage of the Princess Elizabeth to 
 the Elector Palatine, which took place on 14th February, 
 1613), fixes the late date for the play in its«present form. 
 
 Some scholars have, however, held that it was originally 
 composed either (i.) towards the end of Queen EHza- 
 beth's reign, or (ii.) at the beginning of the reign of her 
 successor. Elze attempted, without success, to maintain 
 the former supposition by eliminating (as later additions) 
 not only the references to King James, but also the scene 
 between Katharine and the Cardinals, and most of Kath- 
 arine's death-scene, so as to make the play a sort of 
 apology for Henry, a glorification of Anne Boleyn, and an 
 apotheosis of Elizabeth, f Hunter held the latter view, 
 discovering infer alia that 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.' ;j; 
 
 At all events, no critic has attempted to regard the great 
 trial-scene as a later interpolation, and this scene may 
 therefore be taken to be an integral part of Shakespeare's 
 work; it is a companion picture to the trial in TJie Win- 
 ter's Tale ; Hermione and Katharine are twin-sisters, 
 " queens of earthly queens " § ; and indeed the general 
 
 * A state lottery was set up expressly for the establishment of 
 English Colonies in Virginia in 1612. 
 
 t Vide Essays on Shakespeare by Professor Karl Elze (trans- 
 lated by L. Dora Schmitz) ; cp. German Shakespeare Jahrhuch, 
 1874. Collier held a similar theory, which numbers many advo- 
 cates among the old Shakespearians — e.g. Theobald, Johnson, 
 Steevens, Malone. etc. 
 
 X Nezu Illustrations to Shakespeare, II. lOi. 
 
 § v. Mrs. Jameson's comparative study of the two characters, and 
 her enthusiastic appreciation of Katharine as "the triumph of 
 Shakespeare's genius and his wisdom."
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Preface 
 
 characteristics, metrical and otherwise, of this and other 
 typically Shakespearian scenes, give a well-grounded im- 
 pression that the two plays belong to the same late period, 
 and that we probably have in Henry VIII. ' the last heir ' 
 of the poet's invention. " The opening of the play," wrote 
 James Spedding, recording the effect produced by a care- 
 ful reading of the whole, " seemed to have the full stamp 
 of Shakespeare, in his latest mxanner: the same close- 
 packed expression ; the same life, and reality, and fresh- 
 ness ; the same rapid and abrupt turnings of thought, so 
 quick that language can hardly follow ^ast enough; the 
 same impatient activity of intellect and fancy, which 
 having once disclosed an idea cannot wait to work it 
 orderly out; the same daring confidence in the resources 
 of language, which plunges headlong into a sentence 
 without knowing how it is to come forth ; the same care- 
 less metre which disdains to produce its harmonious ef- 
 fects by the ordinary devices, yet is evidently subject to 
 a master of harmony ; the same entire freedom from book- 
 language and commonplace ; all the qualities, in short, 
 which distinguish the magical hand which has never yet 
 been successfully imitated." "^ But the magical touch is 
 not found throughout the play. 
 
 Authorship of the Play. As early as 1758, in Ed- 
 ward's Canons of Criticism (sixth edition), Roderick 
 called attention to the following peculiarities in the versi- 
 fication of Henry VIII.: — (i.) the frequent occurrence of 
 a redundant syllable at the end of the line; (ii.) the re- 
 markable character of the cassurse, or pauses of the verse ; 
 (iii.) the clashing of the emphasis with the cadence of the 
 metre. The subject received no serious attention for well- 
 nigh a century, until in 1850 Mr. Spedding published his 
 striking study of the play, wherein he elaborated a sug- 
 gestion casually thrown out ' by a man of first-rate judge- 
 ment on such a point' (viz., the late Lord Tennyson), 
 
 *"Who wrote Shakespeare's Henry VIII?" {Gentleman's 
 Magazine, 1850)' ; " New Shakespeare Society's Papers," 1874.
 
 Preface FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 that many passages in Henry VIII. were very much in 
 the manner of Fletcher. Basing his conclusions on con- 
 siderations of dramatic construction, diction, metre, and 
 subtler aesthetic criteria, he assigned to Shakespeare Act 
 I. Sc. i., ii. ; Act II. Sc. iii., iv. ; Act III. Sc. ii. (to exit of 
 the King) ; Act V. Sc. i., and all the rest of the play to 
 Fletcher (though, possibly, even a third hand can be de- 
 tected).* 
 
 Shakespeare's original design was probably ' a great 
 historical drama on the subject of Henry VIII., which 
 would have includecf 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.' He had carried out his idea as far as 
 Act III., when his fellows at the Globe required a new 
 play for some special occasion (perhaps the marriage of 
 Princess Elizabeth) ; the MS. was handed over to 
 Fletcher, who elaborated a five-act play, suitable to the 
 occasion, ' by interspersing scenes of show and magnifi- 
 cence ' ; a splendid ' historical masque or show-play ' was 
 the result, f 
 
 Speddino^'s views on Henry VIII. are now generally 
 accepted ; X they were immediately confirmed by Mr. S. 
 
 * A^. B. — Wolsey's famous soliloquy falls to Fletcher's share. 
 
 As regards the Prologue and Epilogue, they seem Fletcherian ; 
 the former may well be compared with the lines prefixed to The 
 Mad Lover; they are. however, so contradictory, that one would 
 fain assign them to different hands. 
 
 t The panegyric at the end is quite in the Masque-style ; so, 
 too, the Vision in Act IV. Sc. ii. ; compare Pericles, V. ii. ; Cym- 
 beline, V. iv.. both similarly un-Shakespearian. The Masque in 
 the Tempest is also of somewhat doubtful authorship. Mr. Fleay 
 suggested as an explanation of the dual authorship that that part 
 of Shakespeare's play was burnt at the Globe, and that Fletcher 
 was employed to re-write this part ; that in doing so he used such 
 material as he recollected from his hearing of Shakespeare's 
 play. Hence the superiority of his work here over that elsewhere 
 {vide Shakespeare Manual, p. 171). 
 
 X Singer, Knight, Ward, Ulrici, do not accept the theory of a 
 
 6
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. 
 
 Preface 
 
 Hickson, who had been investigating the matter inde- 
 pendently (Notes and Queries, II. p. 198; III. p. 33), and 
 later on by Mr. Fleay and others, who subjected the va- 
 rious portions of the play to the metrical tests.* 
 
 The Sources. There were four main sources used 
 for the historical facts of the play: — (i.) Hall's Union of 
 the Families of Lancaster and York (ist ed. 1548), (ii.) 
 Holinshed's Chronicles of England, Scotland, and Ire- 
 land (1st ed. 1577; 2nd ed. 1586); (iii.) The Life of 
 Cardinal Wolsey, by George Caverftiish, his gentleman- 
 usher (first printed in 1641 ; MSS. of the work were 
 common) ; (iv. ) Foxe's Acts and Monuments of the 
 Church (ist ed. 1563). The last-named book afforded 
 the materials for the Fifth Act. 
 
 Chronology of the Play. Though the play keeps in 
 many places the very diction of the authorities, yet its 
 chronology is altogether capricious, as will be seen from 
 
 divided authorship. In the Transactions of the New Shak. Sac. 
 for 1880-5, there is a paper by Mr. Robert Boyle, putting forth the 
 theory that the play was written by Fletcher and Massinger, and 
 that the original Shakespearian play perished altogether in the 
 Globe fire. 
 
 * These tests seem decisive against Shakespeare's sole author- 
 ship. Dr. Abbott {Shakespearian Grammar, p. 331) states emphati- 
 crJIy : — " The fact that in Henry VIII., and in no other play of 
 Shakespeare's, constant exceptions are formed to this rule fthat an 
 extra syllable at the end of a line is rarely a monosyllable) seems 
 to me a sufficient proof that Shakespeare did not write that play." 
 
 The following table will show at a glance the metrical char- 
 acteristics of the parts : — 
 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Fletcher. 
 
 
 double endings 
 unstopped lines 
 light endings 
 weak endings 
 rhymes 
 
 I to 3 
 
 I to 2.03 
 
 45 
 
 37 
 
 6 {accidefital) 
 
 I to 1.7 1 
 I to 3 79 i 
 
 ,■ 1 
 
 proportion, 
 number.
 
 Preface FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 the following table of historic dates, arranged in the order 
 of the play : — '^ 
 
 1520. June. Field of the Cloth of Gold. 
 1522. March. War declared with France. 
 
 May-July. Visit of the Emperor to the English 
 Court. 
 
 1 521. April 1 6th. Buckingham brought to the Tower. 
 1527. Henry becomes acquainted with Anne Bullen. 
 
 1 521. May. Arraignment of Buckingham. 
 May 17th., His Execution. 
 
 1527. August. Commencement of proceedings for the 
 
 divorce. 
 
 1528. October. Cardinal Campeius arrives in London. 
 
 1532. September. Anne Byllen created Marchioness 
 
 of Pembroke. 
 
 1529. May. Assembly of the Court at Blackfriars 
 
 to try the case of the divorce. 
 
 jc^ [ Cranmer abroad working for the divorce. 
 
 1529. Return of Cardinal Campeius to Rome. 
 
 1533. January. Marriage of Henry with Anne Bullen. 
 
 1529. October. Wolsey deprived of the great seal. 
 
 Sir Thomas More chosen Lord Chan- 
 cellor. 
 1533. March 30th. Cranmer consecrated Archbishop 
 of Canterbury. 
 May 23rd. Nullity of the marriage w4th Kath- 
 arine declared. 
 
 1530. November 29th. Death of Cardinal Wolsey. 
 1533. June 1st. Coronation of Anne. 
 
 1536. January 8th. Death of Queen Katharine. 
 
 1533. September 7th. Birth of Elizabeth. 
 
 1544. Cranmer called before the Council. 
 
 1533. September. Christening of Elizabeth. 
 
 * Vide P. A. Daniel's Time Analysis, Trans, of Nczv Shak. 
 Soc, 1877-79; <^P- Courtenay's Conifnentaries on the Historical 
 Plays ; Warner's English History in Shakespeare. 
 
 8
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Preface 
 
 Duration of Action. From the above it is clear that 
 the historical events of the play cover a period of twenty- 
 four years ; the time of the play, however, is seven days, 
 represented on the stage, with intervals: — Day i, Act I. 
 Sc. i.-iv. Interval. Day 2, Act II. Sc. i.-iii. Day 3, Act 
 IL Se. iv. Day 4, Act III. Sc. i. Interval Day 5, Act 
 III. Sc. ii. Interval. Day 6, Act IV. Sc. i., ii. Interval 
 Day 7, Act V. Sc. i.-iv.
 
 FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Critical Comments. 
 I. 
 
 Argument. 
 
 I, Soon after the return of the EngHsh court from 
 the Field of the Cloth of Gold the Duke of Buckingham 
 has the misfortune to embroil himself with Cardinal 
 Wolsey, chancellor to Henry VIII. The cardinal sub- 
 orns some discontented servants of the duke to accuse 
 their master of treasonable purposes; Wolsey's desire to 
 work Buckingham's downfall probably being strength- 
 ened to jealousy of his power. 
 
 Wolsey gives a great supper to the court, which is at- 
 tended by the King and his lords masked. Henry is 
 greatly attracted by the beauty of Anne BuUen, a maid 
 of honour. 
 
 II, Buckingham is brought to trial, convicted of high 
 treason and led to execution. 
 
 The charms of Anne Bullen awaken in the King a long 
 dormant scruple of conscience regarding the legality of 
 his marriage with Katharine, the widow of his deceased 
 brother. He resolves to divorce the Queen and calls 
 her to public trial. She attends, but refuses to submit to 
 the court. She will not accept Wolsey for judge, and 
 appeals to the pope. 
 
 III, The cardinal, now seeing the drift of Henry's 
 purpose, and dismayed at the prospect of his union with 
 a Protestant, takes the side of Queen Katharine and 
 sends private instructions to the papal court that her 
 divorce m.ay be delayed. But the Queen still mistrusts 
 him for her enemy. The King meanwhile becoming im-
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Comments 
 
 patient at Rome's delay, takes matters into his own 
 hands, puts away Queen Katharine, and secretly 
 espouses Anne Bullen. At this juncture he by chance 
 gains possession of the cardinal's papers — the letter to 
 the pope, and inventory of the chancellor's enormous 
 wealth. The enraged monarch deprives Wolsey of his 
 civil offices, and the fallen favourite is saved from a 
 charge of high treason only by the interposition of death. 
 
 IV. The divorced Queen Katharine shortly follows 
 Wolsey to the grave. Anne Bullen is publicly crowned 
 as Queen amid much ceremony, being anointed by Cran- 
 mer, Archbishop of Canterbury. 
 
 V. After Wolsey 's death Cranmer enjoys a great 
 share of the King's favour. This arouses the jealousy 
 of powerful nobles, who form a conspiracy against the 
 prelate. He is brought to trial and threatened with im- 
 prisonment in the Tower, when the opportune arrival of 
 Henry himself enables him to triumph over his rivals. 
 Cranmer evinces his gratitude for the royal friendship by 
 taking part in the christening of Queen Anne's infant 
 daughter, Elizabeth, for whom he prophesies a career of 
 great splendour. 
 
 McSpadden : Shakespearian Synopses. 
 
 II. 
 
 Henry and Anne. 
 
 Shakspeare has, it is true, not. spared Henry's charac- 
 ter: he appears everywhere as the obstinate, capricious, 
 selfish and heartless man that he was — a slave to his fa- 
 vourites and to his passions. That Shakspeare has not 
 expressly described him as such, that he has rather char- 
 acterised him tacitly through his own actions, and no 
 doubt sedulously pushed his good points into the fore- 
 ground, could not — without injustice — have been ex- 
 pected otherwise from a national poet who wrote in the 
 reign of Henry's daughter, the universally honoured 
 
 II
 
 Comments FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Elizabeth. Further, that he does not describe Anne 
 Boleyn exactly as she was — she who, indeed, at first re- 
 jected Henry's advances, but afterwards lived with him 
 in adultery for three years — is also excusable, seeing 
 that she was Elizabeth's mother, and her doings had not 
 in Shakspeare's time been fully disclosed, at all events 
 they were not publicly narrated in the chronicles and 
 popular histories. 
 
 Some inaccuracies may be left out of consideration ; 
 for instance, that the opinions expressed by the most em- 
 inent theologians in regard to Henry's divorce were not 
 in his favour, and that Thomas Cranmer was not quite 
 the noble, amiable Christian character he is here repre- 
 sented. These are secondary circumstances which the 
 poet was free to dispose of as he pleased. But one 
 point,, where he certainly is open to censure, is, that 
 he has not given us a full and complete account of the 
 lives of Henry and Anne, but simply a portion of their 
 history ; the representation therefore becomes untrue 
 from an ideal point of view as well. Not only does this 
 offend the justice which proceeds from human thought, 
 but it likewise ofifends poetical justice. Moreover, it is 
 opposed to the true and actual justice of history when a 
 man like Henry — the slave to his selfish caprice, lusts 
 and passions, the play-ball in the hands of such a favour- 
 ite as the ambitious, revengeful, intriguing Wolsey — a 
 man who condemns the Duke of Buckingham to death 
 without cause or justice, and who for his own low, sen- 
 sual desires repudiates his amiable, pious, and most 
 noble consort, whose only fault is a pardonable pride 
 in her true majesty — when, I repeat, such a man is re- 
 warded for his heavy transgressions with the hand of the 
 woman he loves and by the birth of a fortunate child; 
 and again, when we see Anne Boleyn — who even in the 
 drama seems burdened w^ith a grievous sin, inasmuch as 
 she forces herself into the place belonging to the unjustly 
 banished Queen — leave the stage simply as the happy, 
 extolled mother of such a child, and in the full enjoy- 
 
 12
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Comments 
 
 ment of her unlawful possession. This is not the course 
 taken by history. We know, and it was always well 
 known, that Henry died while still in the prime of life 
 and after much suffering, in consequence of his excessive 
 dissipations — a wreck in body as well as in mind; we 
 know, and it can never have been a secret, that Anne, 
 after a short period of happiness, and not altogether un- 
 justly, ended her frivolous life in prison, into which she 
 was thrown at her own husband's command. 
 
 Ulrici: Shakspearc's Dramatic Art. 
 
 III. 
 
 The Delineation of Anne. 
 
 In the brief but searching delineation of Anne Boleyn 
 there is drawn together the essence of a long history. 
 With little or nothing in her of a substantive or positive 
 nature one way or the other; with scarce any legitimate 
 object-matter of respect or confidence, she is notwith- 
 standing rather an amiable person; possessed with a 
 girlish fancy and hankering for the vain pomps and frip- 
 peries of state, but having no sense of its duties and dig- 
 nities. She has a kindly and pitiful heart, but is so void 
 of womanly principle and delicacy as to be from the first 
 evidently flattered and elated by those royal benevo- 
 lences, which to any just sensibility of honour would min- 
 ister nothing but humiliation and shame. She has a real 
 and true pity for the good Queen ; but her pity goes alto- 
 gether on false grounds; and she shows by the very 
 terms of it her eager and uneasy longing after what she 
 scarcely more fears than hopes the Queen is about to 
 lose. She strikes infinitely below the true grounds and 
 sources of Katharine's noble sorrow, and that in such a 
 way as to indicate her utter inability to reach or conceive 
 them; and thus serves to set off and enhance the deep 
 and solid character of her whose soul truth is not so 
 much a quality, as it is the very substance and essential 
 
 13
 
 Comments FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 form; and who, from the serene and steady Ught thence 
 shining within her, much rather than from any acuteness 
 of strength of intellect, is enabled to detect the crooked 
 policy and duplicity which are playing their engines 
 about her. For, as Mrs. Jameson justly observes, this 
 thorough honesty and integrity of heart, this perfect 
 truth in the inward parts, is as hard to be deceived, as it 
 is incapable of deceiving. We can well imagine, that 
 with those of the Poet's audience who had any knowl- 
 edge of English history, and many of them no doubt 
 had much, the delineation of Anne, broken off, as it is, 
 at the height of her fortune, must needs have sent their 
 thoughts forward to reflect how the self-same levity of 
 character, which lifted her into Katharine's place, soon 
 afterwards drew on herself a far more sudden and ter- 
 rible reverse than had overtaken those on whose ruins 
 she had risen. 
 
 Hudson : The Works of Shakespeare, 
 
 IV. 
 
 Katharine. 
 
 Katharine is at first introduced as pleading before the 
 king in behalf of the commonalty, who had been driven 
 by the extortions of Wolsey into some illegal excesses. 
 In this scene, which is true to history, we have her up- 
 right reasoning mind, her steadiness of purpose, her 
 piety and benevolence, placed in a strong light. The 
 unshrinking dignity with which she opposes without de- 
 scending to brave the cardinal, the stern rebuke ad- 
 dressed to the Duke of Buckingham's surveyor, are 
 finely characteristic ; and by thus exhibiting Katharine 
 as invested with all her conjugal rights and influence, 
 and royal state, the subsequent situations are rendered 
 more impressive. She is placed in the first instance on 
 such a height in our esteem and reverence, that in the 
 midst of her abandonment and degradation, and the pro-
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Comments 
 
 found pity she afterwards inspires, the first effect re- 
 mains unimpaired, and she never falls beneath it. 
 
 In the beginning of the second act we are prepared 
 for the proceedings of the divorce, and our respect for 
 Katharine heightened by the general sympathy for " the 
 good queen," as she is expressively entitled, and by the 
 following beautiful eulogium on her character uttered 
 by the Duke of Norfolk:— 
 
 He [Wolsey] counsels a divorce; a loss of her 
 That like a jewel has hung twenty years 
 About his neck, yet never lost her lustre ; 
 Of her that loves him with that excellence 
 That angels love good men with ; even of her 
 That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls, 
 Will bless the king. 
 
 We are told by Cavendish, that when Wolsey and 
 Campeggio visited the queen by the king's order she was 
 found at work among her women, and came forth to 
 meet the cardinals with a skein of white thread hanging 
 about her neck; that when Wolsey addressed her in 
 Latin, she interrupted him, saying, " Nay, good my 
 lord, 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 be- 
 tween the king and you, and also to declare secretly our 
 opinions and our counsel unto you, which we have in- 
 tended of very zeal and obedience that we bear to your 
 grace." " My lords, I thank you then," quoth she, " of 
 your good wills; but to make answer to your request I 
 cannot so suddenly, for I was set among my maidens 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. I had need of good counsel in this case, which 
 
 IS
 
 Comments FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 toucheth me so near; and for any counsel or friendship 
 that I can find in England, they are nothing to my pur- 
 pose or profit. Think you, I pray you, my lords, will 
 any Englishmen counsel, or be friendly unto me, against 
 the king's pleasure, they being his subjects? Nay, for- 
 sooth, my lords! and for my counsel, in whom I do in- 
 tend to put my trust, they be not here; they be in Spain, 
 in my native country. Alas! my lords, I am a poor 
 woman lacking both wit and understanding sufficiently 
 to answer such approved wise men 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 coun- 
 sel, I will not refuse, but be glad to hear." 
 
 It appears, also, that when the Archbishop of York 
 and Bishop Tunstall waited on her at her house near 
 Huntingdon, with the sentence of the divorce, signed by 
 Henry, and confirmed by an act of Parliament, she re- 
 fused to admit its validity, she being Henry's wife, and 
 not his subject. The bishop describes her conduct in his 
 letter: " She being therewith in great choler and agony, 
 and always interrupting our words, declared that she 
 would never leave the name of queen, but would persist 
 in accounting herself the king's wife till death." When 
 the official letter containing minutes of their conference 
 was shown to her, she seized a pen and dashed it angrily 
 across every sentence in which she was styled Princess- 
 dowager. 
 
 If now we turn to that inimitable scene between Kath- 
 arine and the two cardinals (III. i.), we shall observe 
 how finely Shakespeare has condensed these incidents, 
 and unfolded to us all the workings of Katharine's proud 
 yet feminine nature. She is discovered at work with 
 some of her women — she calls for music to soothe " her 
 soul grown sad with troubles " — then follows the little 
 song, of which the sentiment is so well adapted to the 
 occasion, while its quaint yet classic elegance breathes 
 
 i6
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Comments 
 
 the very spirit of those times when Surrey loved and 
 sung: — 
 
 Orpheus with his kite made trees, 
 And the mountain tops that freeze, 
 
 Bow themsehes. 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, 
 
 Hung their heads, and then lay l)y. 
 In sweet music is such art. 
 Killing care and grief of heart 
 
 Fall asleep, or, hearing, die. 
 
 They are interrupted by the arrival of the two cardinals. 
 Katharine's perception of their subtlety — her suspicion 
 of their purpose — her sense of her own weakness and 
 inability to contend with them, and her mild subdued 
 dignity, are beautifully represented : as also the guarded 
 self-command with which she eludes giving a definitive 
 answer; but when they counsel her to that which she, 
 who knows Henry, feels must end in her ruin, then the 
 native temper is roused at once, or, to use Tunstall's 
 expression, " the choler and the agony," burst forth in 
 words : — 
 
 Queen Katharine. Is this your Christian counsel? Out upon ye! 
 
 Heaven is above all yet ; there sits a Judge 
 
 That no king can corrupt. 
 Campeiiis. Your rage mistakes us. 
 
 Queen Katharine. 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, 
 
 The cordial that ye bring a wretched lady? 
 
 With the same force of language, and- impetuous yet 
 dignified feeling, she asserts her own conjugal trttth and 
 merit, and insists upon her rights : —
 
 Comments FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Have I liv'd 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? lov'd him next heaven? obey'd him? 
 
 Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him? 
 
 Almost forgot my prayers to content him? 
 
 And am I thus rewarded? 'tis not well, lords, ... 
 
 My lord, I dare not make myself so guilty, 
 To give up willingly that noble title 
 Your master wed me to : nothing but death 
 Shall e'er divorce my dignities. 
 
 And this burst of unwonted passion is immediately fol- 
 lowed by the natural reaction; it subsides into tears, 
 dejection, and a mournful self-compassion: — 
 
 Would I had never trod this English ground, 
 
 Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it ! 
 
 What will become of me now, wretched lady? 
 
 I am the most unhappy woman living. 
 
 Alas, poor wenches*, where are now your fortunes? 
 
 [To her women. 
 Shipwrecked upon a kingdom, where no pity. 
 No friends, no hope ; no kindred weep for me ; 
 Almost no grave allowed me; like the lily. 
 That once was mistress of the field and flourish'd, 
 I '11 hang my head and perish. 
 
 Dr. Johnson observes on this scene, that all Katharine's 
 distresses could not save her from a quibble on the 
 word cardinal 
 
 Holy men I thought ye. 
 Upon my soul, two reverend cardinal virtues ; 
 But cardinal sins, and hollow hearts, I fear yt ! 
 
 When we read this passage in connection with the situa- 
 tion and sentiment, the scornful play upon the words is 
 not only appropriate and natural, it seems inevitable. 
 
 i8
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Comments 
 
 Katharine, assuredly, is neither an imaginative nor a 
 witty personage; but we all acknowledge the truism 
 that anger inspires wit, and whenever there is passion 
 there is poetry. In the instance just alluded to, the sar- 
 casm springs naturally out from the bitter indignation of 
 the moment. In her grand rebuke of Wolsey, in the 
 trial scene, how just and beautiful is the gradual eleva- 
 tion of her language, till it rises into that magnificent im- 
 age— 
 
 You have by fortune and his highness' favours, 
 Gone slightly o'er low steps, and now are mounted, 
 Where powers are your retainers, . . . 
 
 In the depth of her affliction, the pathos as naturally 
 clothes itself in poetry. 
 
 Like the lily, 
 That once was mistress of the field, and flourish'd, 
 I '11 hang my head and perish. 
 
 But these, I believe, are the only instances of imagery 
 throughout ; for, in general, her language is plain and 
 energetic. It has the strength and simplicity of her 
 character, with very little metaphor and less wit. 
 
 In approaching the last scene of Katharine's life, T 
 feel as if about to tread within a sanctuary where noth- 
 ing befits us but silence and tears ; veneration so strives 
 with compassion, tenderness with awe. 
 
 We must suppose a long interval to have elapsed since 
 Katharine's interview with the two cardinals. Wolsey 
 was disgraced, and poor Anna Bullen at the height of 
 her short-lived prosperity. It was Wolsey's fate to be 
 detested by both queens. In the pursuance of his own 
 selfish and ambitious designs, he had treated both with 
 perfidy; and one was the remote, the other the imme- 
 diate cause of his ruin. 
 
 The ruffian king, of whom one hates to think, was 
 bent on forcing Katharine to concede her rights, and 
 illegitimize her daughter, in favour of the offspring of 
 
 19
 
 Comments FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Anna Bullen: she steadily refused, was declared con- 
 tumacious, and the sentence of divorce pronounced in 
 1533. Such of her attendants as persisted in paying her 
 the honours due to a queen were driven from her house- 
 hold ; those who consented to serve her as princess- 
 dowager, she refused to admit into her presence ; so that 
 she remained unattended, except by a few women, and 
 her gentleman usher, Griffith. During the last eighteen 
 months of her life she resided at Kimbolton. Her 
 nephew, Charles \ ., had offered here an asylum and 
 princely treatment; but Katharine, broken in heart, and 
 declining in health, was unwilling to drag the spectacle 
 of her misery and degradation into a strange country: 
 she pined in her loneliness, deprived of her daughter, 
 receiving »o consolation from the pope, and no redress 
 from the emperor. Wounded pride, wronged affection, 
 and a cankering jealousy of the woman preferred to her 
 (which, though it never broke out into unseemly words, 
 is enumerated as one of the causes of her death), at 
 length wore out a feeble frame. 
 
 What the historian relates, Shakespeare realizes. On 
 the wonderful beauty of Katharine's closing scene we 
 need not dwell, for that requires no illustration. In 
 transferring the sentiments of her letter to her lips, 
 Shakespeare has given them added grace, and pathos, 
 and tenderness, without injuring their truth and sim- 
 plicity : the feelings, and almost the manner of expres- 
 sion, are Katharine's own. The severe justice with which 
 she draw's the character of Wolsey is extremely charac- 
 teristic; the benign candour with which she listens to the 
 praise of him " whom living she most hated," is not 
 less so. How beautiful her religious enthusiasm ! — the 
 slumber which visits her pillowy as she listens to that 
 sad music she called her knell; her awakening from the 
 vision of celestial joy to find herself still on earth — 
 
 Spirits of peace ! where are ye? Are ye all gone, 
 And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye? — 
 
 20
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Comments 
 
 how unspeakably beautiful! And to consummate all in 
 one final touch of truth and nature, we see that con- 
 sciousness of her own worth and integrity which had 
 sustained her through all her trials of heart, and that 
 pride of station for which she had contended through 
 long years — which had become more dear by opposition, 
 r.nd by the perseverance with which she had asserted it — 
 remaining the last strong feeling upon her mind, to the 
 very last hour of existence. 
 
 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, 
 Then lay me forth : although unqueen'd, yet like 
 A queen, and daughter to a king, inter me. 
 I can no more. 
 
 In the epilogue to this play it is recommended to 
 
 The merciful construction of good women, 
 For such a one we show'd 'em : 
 
 alluding to the character of Queen Katharine. Shake- 
 speare has, in fact, placed before us a queen and a hero- 
 ine, who in the first place, and above all, is a good 
 woman ; and I repeat, that in doing so, and in trustmg 
 for all his effect to truth and virtue, he has given a 
 sublime proof of his genius and his wisdom ; — for which, 
 among many other obligations, we women remain his 
 debtors. 
 
 Mrs. Jameson : Characteristics of Women 
 
 What, then, chiefly interested the dramatist in this de- 
 signed and partly accomplished Henry VIIL? The pres- 
 ence of a noble sufferer— one who was grievously 
 wronged, and who, by a plain loyalty to what is faithful 
 and true, by a disinterestedness of soul and enduring 
 magnanimity, passes out of all passion and personal re- 
 sentment into the reality of things, in which much, in- 
 
 21
 
 Comments FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 deed, of pain remains, but no ignoble wrath or shallow 
 bitterness of heart. Her earnest endeavour for the wel- 
 fare of her English subjects is made with fearless and 
 calm persistence in the face of Wolsey's opposition. It 
 is integrity and freedom from self-regard set over against 
 guile and power and pride. In her trial scene, the indig- 
 nation of Katharine flashes forth against the cardinal, 
 but is an indignation which unswervingly progresses 
 towards and penetrates into the truth. 
 
 DowDEN : Shakspere. 
 
 In spite of the great virtues which I have to acknowl- 
 edge in her, I have an insurmountable dislike to this 
 princess. As a married woman she was a pattern of 
 social fidelity. As a queen she was most majestic and 
 dignified. As a Christian she was virtue personified. 
 But she inspired Dr. Samuel Johnson with a voice to 
 sing her highest praise, and of all the women described 
 by Shakespeare she is his special favourite. He men- 
 tions her with tender pathos . . . and this is in- 
 sufferable. Shakespeare did his best to idealize "the 
 good woman but this is in vain, when we perceive that 
 . . . Dr. Johnson is overcome by tender delight at 
 her sight and runs over in her praise. Were she my 
 wife I could make such praise a ground of separation. 
 Heine: Notes on Shakespeare Heroines. 
 
 V. 
 
 Wolsey. 
 
 Opposed to Buckingham, but still more accomplished 
 with the new arts in vogue, and with a tongue still more 
 persuasive, is the magnificent arrogance of the all- 
 performing Wolsey. He is the type of the advancing 
 Commons as sprung from their very depths ; but he has 
 taken such a start ahead of them as to be willing to forget
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Comments 
 
 and to aid in oppressing, his own original order. He has 
 the upstart's not unprovoked hatred of the hereditary 
 nobiHty, and the upstart's neglect also of the class he 
 has quitted. The tendency of the age is to advance him, 
 and tempting circumstances and a nature that can be 
 dazzled and misled, carry him on by ways too often un- 
 holy to a perilous height. Assentation and convenience 
 to royalty brings on such gigantic success that he makes 
 the usual mistake of his position and dreams of inde- 
 pendence. The first manifest proof of falsehood for 
 his own ends in a service that every truth disowned, en- 
 sures his ruin, and the double herds of vulgar, the select 
 and the numberless, blacken him in his descent, and ex- 
 ult in his overthrow with a temper that would put the 
 best cause in the wrong. 
 
 Wolsey is Shakespeare's most elaborate picture, and 
 he has many, of the arrogant, scheming and unchristian 
 churchman. The strongest lines mark his duplicity of act 
 and word, his envy, malice and pitilessness against Buck- 
 ingham, Katharine, Pace or Bullen — the dim-burning 
 light that with off-hand severity he would snuff out ; 
 and yet so soon as his own ruin explodes he turns upon 
 those who triumph in his fall, some like Surrey not 
 without good excuse, and taxes them indignantly with 
 envy and malice — their ignorance of truth — he who so 
 often had profaned his gift of ingratiating language to 
 betray — with shameful want of manners, thus imputing 
 the faults with which he of all others is most charg-eable. 
 Yet strange to say in all this seeming impudent self- 
 assertion he is already becoming more truthful. His de- 
 fencelessness comes bitterly home to him, and he grasps 
 about wildly and eagerly for those weapons and the 
 armour that would bestead him in such need; and as 
 he vainly searches in his soul for the resources he has 
 forfeited he becomes conscious of his past and irrepara- 
 ble- improvidence. Relieved from the obstructions of 
 place and power, he soon sees w^th clear eye from what 
 quarter might have come entire protection against, or 
 
 23
 
 Comments FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 compensation for any danger, and any insult and fall. 
 The very features of the vices he has been practising are 
 reflected before him in the exultation of the enemies who 
 have leapt into his position, and with sudden pang he 
 notes and hates their despicableness in himself. Such 
 is the process of the purification of his mind, and the 
 sign of it is that the taunts of the nobles have their effect 
 in composing his mind rather than agitating or irritating 
 it. In a bright outburst of moral enlightenment we note 
 the refreshment and very rejuvenescence of the soul, 
 which Shakespeare is our warrant may truly come over 
 the corrupt — the criminal. No repentance will ever 
 undo and reverse the full consequence of wrong, for the 
 better life of the man may sigh as vainly to recover the 
 misused capacities and opportunities of youth and boy- 
 hood as their lost hours; yet is not the great Order mer- 
 ciless, nor are they dreamers and deceivers of the fanat- 
 ical who tell that it remains for the wrong-doer — who 
 shall set a limit and say how^ heinously guilty — to arrive 
 by whatever providential process at a newness of heart 
 that places him in completest opposition to his former 
 self. 
 
 Lloyd : Critical Essays on the Plays of Shakespeare. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Divided Against Itself, 
 
 The effect of the play as a whole is weak and disap- 
 pointing. 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. ... I know no 
 other play in Shakespeare 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. In all the historical tragedies a Prov- 
 idence may be seen presiding over the development of 
 
 24
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Comments 
 
 events, as just and relentless as the fate in a Greek trag- 
 edy. Even in Henry IV., where the comic element pre- 
 dominates, we are never allowed to exult in the success 
 of the wrong-doer, or to forget the penalties which are 
 due to guilt. And if it be true that in the romantic com- 
 edies our moral sense does sometimes suffer a passing 
 shock, it is never owing to an error in the general de- 
 sign, but always to some incongruous circumstance in 
 the original story which has lain in the way and not 
 been entirely got rid of, and which after all offends us 
 rather as an incident improbable in itself than as one 
 for which our sympathy is unjustly demanded. The sin- 
 gularity of Henry VHI. is that, while four-fifths of the 
 play are occupied in matters which are to make us in- 
 capable of mirth — ' Be sad, as zue zvould make yon ' — the 
 remaining fifth is devoted to joy and triumph, and ends 
 with universal festivity: — 
 
 This day, no man think 
 
 Has business at his house ; for all shall stay : 
 
 This little one shall make it holiday. 
 
 Speddixg: Gentleman's Magazine, August, 1850. 
 
 No doubt the nature of the subject imposed enormous 
 difficulties on an Elizabethan dramatist. To render with 
 imaginative sympathy the moving story of the divorce, 
 and yet to remember that the glory of his own time had 
 flowered from that malign plant, was to be under a con- 
 tinual provocation to the conflict of interests which the 
 play, as we see, has not escaped. Regarded near by, the 
 divorce of Katharine was a pitiful tragedy ; regarded in 
 retrospect it seemed big with the destinies of England. 
 Yet the earlier Histories had presented a parallel dif- 
 ficulty without involving a parallel failure. The glories 
 of Henry V. like those of Elizabeth were rooted in a 
 crime, but no such rent yawns across the tragedy of 
 Richard H. as that which so fatally divides Henry VHI. 
 against itself. After making all allowance for such ob- 
 
 25
 
 Comments 
 
 stacles, it remains true that the total effect of the drama 
 is insignificant in proportion to the splendour of detail 
 and the superb power of single scenes. Nothing more 
 damning can be said of any play, and nothing like it can 
 be said of any play which is wholly Shakespeare's work. 
 Hence, in point simply of dramatic quality, the play justi- 
 fies a suspicion that it is not entirely Shakespeare's work. 
 Herford : The Eversley Shakespeare.
 
 The Famous History of the Life of 
 
 King Henry VIII. 
 
 Xi
 
 DRAMATIS PERSONAE. 
 
 King Henry the Eighth. 
 
 Cardinal Wolsey. 
 
 Cardinal Campeius. 
 
 Capucius, Ambassador from the Emperor Charles V, 
 
 Cranmer, ArchbisJiop of Canterbury. 
 
 Duke of Norfolk. 
 
 Duke of Buckingham. 
 
 Duke of 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. 
 
 Griffith, Gentleman-usher to Queen Katharine. 
 
 Three Gentlemen. 
 
 Doctor Butts, Physician to the King. 
 
 Garter King-at-Arms. 
 
 Surveyor to the Duke of Buckingham. 
 
 Brandon, and a Sergeant-at-Arms. 
 
 Doorkeeper of the Council-chamber. Porter, and his Man. 
 
 Page to Gardiner. A Crier. 
 
 Queen Katharine, wife to King Henry, afterzvards divorced. 
 Anne Bullen, her Maid of Honour, afterwards Queen. 
 An old Lady, friend to Anne Bullen. 
 Patience, zconian to Queen Katharine. 
 
 Several Lords and Ladies in the Dumb Shows ; Women attending 
 upon the Queen ; Scribes, Officers, Guards, and other At- 
 tendants. 
 
 Spirits. 
 
 Scene: London; Westminster; Kimbolton. 
 
 3P
 
 The Famous History of the Life of 
 King Henry VIII. 
 
 THE prologue:. 
 
 I come no more to make you laugh : things now, 
 That bear a weighty and a serious brow, 
 Sad high and working, fuU of state and woe, 
 Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow, 
 We now present. Those that can pity, here 
 May if thev think it well, let fall a tear ; 
 The subject wiU deserve it. Such as give 
 Their monev out of hope they may beheve, 
 May here find truth too. Those that come to see ^^ 
 Onlv a show or two, and so agree 
 TheVlay may pass, if they be still and willing, 
 I '11 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 motlev coat guarded with ye low, 
 Will be deceived; for, gentle hearers, know, 
 To rank our chosen truth with such a show 
 As fool and fight is, beside forteitmg 
 Our own brains and the opinion that we bring 20 
 To make that only true we now intend 
 Will leave us never an understanding friend. 
 Therefore, for goodness' sake, and as you are known 
 The first and happiest hearers of the town, 
 Be sad, as we would make ye: thmk ye see 
 29
 
 Act I. Sc. i. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 The very persons of our noble story 
 
 As they were Hving; think you see them great, 
 
 And follow'd with the general throng and sweat 
 
 Of thousand friends; then, in a moment, see 
 
 How soon this mightiness meets misery: 30 
 
 And if you can be merry then, I '11 say 
 
 A man may weep upon his wedding-day. 
 
 ACT FIRST. 
 Scene I. 
 
 London. An ante-chamber in the palace. 
 
 Enter the Duke of Norfolk at one door; at the other, the 
 Duke of Buckingham and the Lord Ahcrgairnny. 
 
 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 
 
 Those suns of glory, those two lights of men, 
 
 Met in the vale of Andren. 
 Nor. 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; 10 
 
 Which had they, what four throned ones could have 
 weigh 'd 
 
 Such a compounded one? 
 Buck. All the whole time 
 
 30
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act I. Sc. i. 
 
 I was my chamber's prisoner. 
 }^QY^ 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 chnquant, 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 discerner 
 Durst wag his tongue in censure. When these suns — 
 For so they phrase 'em — by their heralds challenged 
 The noble spirits to arms, they did perform 
 Beyond thought's compass; that former fabulous story, 
 Being now seen possible enough, got credit, 
 That Bevis was believed. 
 
 Buck. O, you go far. 
 
 Nor. As I belong to worship, and affect 
 
 In honour honesty, the tract of every thing 40 
 
 Would by a good discourser lose some Hfe, 
 Which action's self was tongue to. All was royal; 
 
 31
 
 Act I. Sc. 1. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 To the disposing of it nought rebell'd; 
 Order gave each thing view; the office did 
 Distinctly his full function. 
 
 Buck. Who did guide, 
 
 I mean, who set the body and the limbs 
 Of this great sport together, as you guess? 
 
 A'or. 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^ 5c 
 
 Of the right reverend Cardinal 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. 
 
 Ahir. 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 6c 
 
 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. 
 
 Abcr. I cannot tell 
 
 What heaven hath given him; let some graver eye 
 Pierce into that; but I can see his pride 
 Peep through each part of him: whence has he that? 
 If not from hell, the devil is a niggard, 70 
 
 32
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act I. Sc. i. 
 
 Or has given all before, and he begins 
 A new hell in himself. 
 Bjtck. 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. 
 ^l,cr. I ^^ know So 
 
 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. Wliat did this vaniiy 
 But minister communication of 
 A most poor issue? 
 l^Qfr^ Grievingly I think, 
 
 The peace between the French and us not values 
 The cost that did conclude it. 
 Buck. Everyman, 
 
 After the hideous storm that foUow'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. 
 y^^ Which is budded out ; 
 
 For France hath flaw'd the league, and hath attached 
 Our merchants' goods at Bourdeaux. 
 33
 
 Act I. Sc. i. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 '4ber. Is it therefore 
 
 The ambassador is silenced? 
 
 Nor. Marry, is 't. 
 
 Aber. A proper title of a peace, and purchased 
 At a superfluous rate! 
 
 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 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, 1 1 1 
 
 Thither he darts it. Bosom up my counsel; 
 You '11 find it wholesome. Lo, where comes that 
 
 rock 
 That I advise your shunning. 
 
 Enter Cardinal Wolscy, the purse borne before him, cer- 
 tain of the Guard, and two Secretaries zvith papers. 
 The Cardinal in his passage fixcth his eye on Buck- 
 ingham, and Buckingham on him, both full of 
 disdain. 
 
 Wol. The Duke of Buckingham's surveyor, ha? 
 
 Where 's his examination ? 
 First Sec. Here, so please you. 
 
 Wol. Is he in person ready ? 
 
 34
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act I. Sc. i. 
 
 First Sec. Ay, please your grace. 
 
 JVoL 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. 
 
 ^Yor. What, are you chafed ? 
 
 Ask God for temperance; that 's the appHance only 
 Which your disease requires. 
 
 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 '11 follow and outstare him. 
 
 ^or. 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 Hke 
 A full-hot horse, who being allow'd his way, 
 Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England 
 Can advise me Hke 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. 
 
 ]\[or. ^^ advised ; 
 
 Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot 140 
 
 That it do singe yourself: we may outrun, 
 By violent swiftness, that which Ve run at, 
 35
 
 Act I. Sc. i. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 And lose by over-running. Know you not, 
 The fire that mounts the hquor 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 '11 go along 150 
 
 By 3^our 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.' 
 
 Buck. To the king I '11 say 't ; and make my vouch as strong 
 As shore of rock. Attend. This holy fox, 
 Or wolf, or both — for he is equal ravenous 
 As he is subtle, and as prone to mischief 160 
 
 As able to perform 't; his mind and place 
 Infecting one another, yea, reciprocally — 
 Only to show his pomp as well in France 
 As here at home, suggests the king our master 
 To this last costly treaty, the interview. 
 That swallow'd so much treasure, and like a glass 
 Did break i' the renching. 
 
 N'or. 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 
 
 36
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act I. Sc. i. 
 
 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 i8o 
 
 England and France might through their amity 
 
 Breed him some prejudice; for from this league 
 
 Peep'd harms that iienaced him: he privily 
 
 Deals with our cardinal; and, as 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, 
 
 As soon he shall by me, that thus the cardinal 191 
 
 Does buy and sell his honour as he pleases. 
 
 And for his own advantage. 
 
 A^or. I am sorry 
 
 To hear this of him, and could wish he were 
 Something mistaken in 't. 
 
 Buck. Xo, 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 tzvo or three of the Guard. 
 
 Bran. Your office, sergeant; execute it. 
 
 37
 
 Act I. Sc. i. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Serg. Sir, 
 
 My lord the Duke of Buckingham, ciiid Earl 
 
 Of Hereford, Stafford, and Northampton, I 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! I shall perish 
 Under device and practice. 
 
 Bran. I am sorry 
 
 To see you ta'en from 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 
 
 O my Lord Abergavenny, fare you well! 
 
 Bran. Nay, he must bear you company. [To Abergavenny'] 
 The king 
 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! 
 
 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; 219 
 
 These are the limbs o' the plot: no more, I hope. . 
 
 Bran. A monk o' the Chartreux. 
 
 38
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act I. Sc. ii. 
 
 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. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 The same. The council-chamber. 
 Cornets. Enter King Henry, leaning on the Cardinals 
 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 Norfolk, 
 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. 
 
 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. 
 
 39
 
 Act I. Sc. ii. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 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 ofBce, 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 
 Sent down among 'em, which hath flaw'd the heart 21 
 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, 30 
 
 The clothiers all, not able to maintain 
 The many to them 'longing, have put ofif 
 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? 
 40
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act I. Sc. ii. 
 
 JVoI. Please you, sir, 4c 
 
 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. 
 
 0. Kath. 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 'em, 
 The back is sacrifice to the load. They say 50 
 
 They are devised by you; or else you suffer 
 Too hard an exclamation. 
 
 Khig. Still exaction! 
 
 The nature of it? in what kind, let 's know. 
 Is this exaction? 
 
 0. Kath. I 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: 60 
 
 Tongues spit their duties out, and cold hearts freeze 
 Allegiance in them; their curses now 
 Live where their prayers did; and it 's come to pass, 
 This tractable obedience is a slave 
 To each incensed will. I would your highness 
 Would give it quick consideration, for 
 
 41
 
 Act I. Sc. ii. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 There 13 no primer business. 
 
 Ki)ig. 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 
 My faculties nor person, yet will be 
 The chronicles of my doing, let me say 
 'Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brake 
 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 oft, 
 Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up 
 For our best act. If we shall stand still. 
 In fear our notion will be mock'd or carp'd at, 
 We should take root here where we sit, or sit 
 State-statues only. 
 
 Kuig. Things done well, 
 
 And with a care, exempt themselves from fear; 
 
 Things done without example, in their issue 90 
 
 Are to be fear'd. 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 
 
 42
 
 LIFE or KING HENRY VIII. Act I. Sc. ii. 
 
 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 
 Free pardon to each man that has denied loo 
 
 The force of this commission: pray, look to 't; 
 I put it to your care. 
 
 ^oL [To the Secretary] A word with you. 
 
 Let there be letters writ to every shire, 
 Of the king's grace and pardon. The grieved commons 
 Hardly conceive of mc: let it be noised 
 That through our intercession this revokement 
 And pardon comes; I shall anon advise you 
 Further in the proceeding. [Exit Secretary. 
 
 Enter Surveyor. 
 
 Q. Kath. I am sorry that the Duke of Buckingham 
 Is run in your displeasure. 
 
 Ki^g' It grieves many: no 
 
 The gentleman is learn'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 
 43
 
 Act I. Sc. ii. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 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. 
 
 Surz: First, it was usual with him, every day 
 It would infect his speech, that if the king 
 Should without issue die, he '11 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 
 His will is most malignant, and it stretches 
 Beyond you to your friends. 
 
 Q. Kafh. My learn'd lord cardinal, 
 
 Deliver ah 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? 
 
 S'urv. He was brought to this 
 
 By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Henton. 
 
 King. What was that Henton? 
 
 Surz'. Sir, a Chartreux friar, 
 
 His confessor, who fed him every minute 
 
 44
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act I. Sc. ii. 
 
 With words of sovereignty. 
 King. - How know'st thou this ? 150 
 
 Siirz: Not long before your highness sped to France, 
 The duke being at the Rose, within the parish 
 Saint Lawrence PouUney, did of me demand 
 What was the speech among the Londoners 
 Concerning the French journey: I repHed, 
 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 
 
 ' Hath sent to me, wishing me to permit 
 John de la Car, my chaplain, a choice hour 
 To hear from him a matter of some moment: 
 Whom after under the confession's seal 
 He solemnly had sworn, that what he spoke 
 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.' 
 Q, KatJi. 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. 
 Kiiig. Let him on. 
 
 Go forward. 
 Siirv. On my soul, I '11 speak but truth. 
 
 45
 
 Act I. Sc. ii. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 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 of¥. 
 
 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.' 
 
 King. A giant traitor! 
 
 Wol. Now, madam, may his highness live in freedom, 
 And this man out of prison? 
 
 Q. Kaih. God mend all! 201 
 
 46
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act I. Sc. ill 
 
 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 ante-chamber in the palace. 
 Enter the Lord Chamberlain 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 
 
 47
 
 Act I. Sc. iii. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Sands. They have all new legs, and lame 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? 
 
 Loz\ • 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. 
 
 Cham. I 'm glad 'tis there : now I would pray our 
 monsieurs 21 
 
 To think an English courtier may be wise, 
 And never see the Louvre. 
 
 Loz\ 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, 
 
 48
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act I. Sc. iii. 
 
 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. 
 Cham. What a loss our ladies 
 
 Will have of these trim vanities! 
 Lov. Ay, marry. 
 
 There will be woe indeed, lords: the sly whoresons 
 Have got a speeding trick to lay down ladies ; 40 
 A French song and a fiddle has no fellow. 
 Sands. The devil fiddle 'em! I am glad they are going. 
 For, sure, there 's no converting of 'em: now 
 An honest country lord, as I am, beaten 
 A long time out of play, may bring his 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. ^o, my lord; 
 
 Xor shall not, while I have a stump. 
 Cham. Sir Thomas, 
 
 Whither were you a-going? 
 Lov. To the cardinal's: 5^ 
 
 Your lordship is a guest too. 
 Cham. O, 'tis true: 
 
 This night he makes a supper, and a great one, 
 To many lords and ladies ; there will be 
 The beauty of this kingdom, I '11 assure you. 
 Loi'. 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; 
 
 49
 
 Act I. Sc. iv. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 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 ; 6i 
 
 They are set here for examples. 
 
 Cham. True, they are so; 
 
 But few now give so great ones. My barge stays; 
 Your lordship shall along. Come, good Sir Thomas, 
 We shall be late else; which I would not be, 
 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 Guild- 
 ford. 
 
 Guild. Ladies, a general welcome from his grace 
 Salutes ye ah; 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 good people. 
 
 Enter the Lord Clianibcrlain, Lord Sands, 
 and Sir Thomas Lovell. 
 
 O, my lord, you 're tardy: 
 The very thought of this fair company 
 
 50
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act I. Sc. iv. 
 
 Clapp'd wings to me. 
 Cham. You are young, Sir Henry Guildford. 
 
 Sands. 5ir Thomas Lovell, had the cardinal lo 
 
 But half my lay thoughts in him, some of these 
 
 Should find a running banquet ere they rested, 
 
 I think would better please 'em: by my hfe, 
 
 They are a sweet society of fair ones. 
 Loz'. 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. 
 Chain. Sweet ladies, w411 it please you sit? Sir Harry, 
 
 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 faith, 
 
 And thank your lordship. By your leave, sweet 
 ladies : 
 
 If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me; 
 
 I 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 w^ould kiss you twenty with a breath. 
 
 [Kisses her. 
 Cham. Well said, my lord. 30 
 
 So, now you 're fairly seated. Gentlemen, 
 
 The penance lies on you, if these fair ladies 
 
 51.
 
 Act I. Sc. iv. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Pass away frowning. 
 Sands. For my little cure, 
 
 Let me alone. 
 
 Hautboys. Enter Cardinal Wolscy, 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 I 
 
 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 
 
 I 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. 
 Sands. Yes, if I make my play. 
 
 Here 's to your ladyship : and pledge it, madam. 
 
 For 'tis to such a thing — 
 Anne. You cannot show me. 
 
 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 Scrimnt. 
 
 Wol. What warlike voice, 50 
 
 And to what end, is this? Nay, ladies, fear not; 
 
 By all the laws of war you 're privileged. 
 
 52
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act I. Sc. iv. 
 
 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. 
 IVol. 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 Chamherlain 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 Cham- 
 berlain. They pass direetly 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 
 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. 
 
 IFo/. Say, lord chamberlain. 
 
 53
 
 Act I. Sc. iv. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 They have done my poor house grace; for which I 
 pay 'em 
 
 A thousand thanks and pray 'em take their pleasures. 
 [TJicy choose. 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. Tray, 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. [Unmasking^^ Ye have found him, cardinal : 
 
 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 am glad 
 
 Your grace is grown so pleasant. 
 King. My lord chamberlain, 90 
 
 Prithee, come hither : what fair lady 's that ? 
 Cham. An 't please your grace, Sir Thomas Bullen's 
 daughter, 
 
 The Viscount Rochford, one of her highness' women. 
 
 54
 
 LIFE OF KING HENPvY VIII. Act II. Sc. i. 
 
 King. By heaven, she is a dainty one. Sweetheart, 
 
 I were unmannerly, to take you out, 
 
 And not to kiss yon. A heahh, gentlemen ! 
 
 Let it go round. 
 Wol. Sir Thomas Lovell, is the hanquet ready 
 
 r the privy chamher? 
 
 Loz'. 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 SECOND. 
 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 laboiu-, sir. All 's now done, but the ceremony
 
 Act 11. Sc. i. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Of bringing back the prisoner. 
 
 Sec. Gent. Were you there ? 
 
 First Gent. Yes, indeed was I. 
 
 Sec. Gent. Pi"ay, 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. So are a number more. 
 
 Sec. Gent. But, pray, how pass'd it? lo 
 
 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 king's attorney on the contrary 
 Urged on the examinations, proofs, confessions 
 Of divers witnesses ; which the duke desired 
 To have brought viva voce to his face : 
 At which appear'd 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 
 \\'ould 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 
 
 56
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act II. Sc. i. 
 
 First Goif. When he was brought again to the bar, to hear 
 His knell rung out, his judgement, he was stirr'd 
 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, Ivildare'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 Buck- 
 ingham, 
 The mirror of all courtesy — 
 
 First Gent. Stay there, sir. 
 
 And see the noble ruin'd man you speak of. 
 
 57
 
 Act II. Sc. i. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Enter BiickiugJwni from his arraignment, tipstares before 
 
 him, the axe -with the edge tozvards him, halberds on 
 
 each side, accompanied zvith Sir Thomas Lovell, Sir 
 
 Nichohis Vaux, Sir William Sands, and common 
 
 . people, &c. 
 
 Sec. Gent. Let 's stand close, and behold him. 
 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 w^hat 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, 
 
 58 . . -
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act II. Sc. i. 
 
 If ever any malice in your heart 8o 
 
 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! 
 Ever beloved and loving may his rule be! 
 And when old time shall lead him to his end, 
 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, 100 
 
 Let it alone; my state now will but mock me. 
 When I came hither, I was lord high constable 
 And Duke of Buckingham; 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. 
 
 59
 
 Act II. Sc. i. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 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. I 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 
 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! [Exeimt Duke and train. 
 
 First Gent. O, this is full of pity! Sir, it calls, 
 
 ■ 60
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act II. Sc. i. 
 
 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, 
 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, 
 Cardinal Campeius is arrived, and lately; 160 
 
 As all think, for this business. 
 
 First Gent. Tis the cardinal; 
 
 And merely to revenge him on the emperor, 
 61
 
 Act II. Sc. ii. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 For not bestowing on him at his asking 
 
 The archbishopric of Toledo, 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 woeful. 
 
 We are too open here to argue this ; 
 
 Let 's think in private more. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 An ante-chmnher in the palace. 
 Enter the Lord Chamberlain, reading a letter. 
 
 Cham. ' My lord, the horses your lordship sent for, 
 with all the care I had, I saw well chosen, ridden, 
 and furnished. They were young and hand- 
 some, 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: lo 
 He will have all, I think. 
 
 Enter to the Lord Chamberlain, the Dukes of Norfolk 
 and Suffolk. 
 
 Nor. Well met, my lord chamberlain. 
 Cham. Good day to both your graces. 
 Snf. How is the king employ'd? 
 Cham. I left him private, 
 
 62
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act II. Sc. ii. 
 
 Full of sad thoughts and troubles. 
 
 Nor. What 's the cause? 
 
 Cham. It seems the marriage with his brother's wife 
 Has crept too near his conscience. 
 
 Suf. No, his conscience 
 
 Has crept too near another lady. 
 
 Nor. 'Tis so : 
 
 This is the cardinal's doing, the king-cardinal: 20 
 That blind priest, like the eldest son of fortune. 
 Turns what he list. The king will kncytv 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 
 
 league 
 Between us and the emperor, thequeen's greatnephew, 
 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, 30 
 
 He counsels a divorce; a loss of her 
 That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years 
 About his neck, yet never lost her lustre. 
 Of her that loves him with that excellence 
 That angels love good men with, even of her 
 That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls. 
 Will bless the king: and is not this course pious? 
 
 Cham. Heaven keep me from such counsel ! 'Tis most true 
 These news are every where; every tongue speaks 
 
 'em, 
 And every true heart weeps for 't: all that dare 40 
 Look into these affairs see this main end,
 
 Act II. Sc. ii. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 The French king's sister. Heaven will one day open 
 The king's eyes, that so long have slept upon 
 This bold bad man. 
 
 Suf. And free us from his slavery. 
 
 Nor. \\& had need pray, 
 
 And heartily, for our deliverance; 
 Or this imperious man will work us all 
 From princes into pages: all men's honours 
 Lie like one lump before him, to be fashion'd 
 Into wh^ pitch he please. 
 
 Suf. For me, my lords, 50 
 
 I love him not, nor fear him ; there 's my creed : 
 As I am made without him, so I '11 stand, 
 If the king please; his curses and his blessings 
 Touch me alike; they 're breath I not believe in. 
 I knew him, and I know him; so I leave him 
 To him that made him proud, the pope. 
 
 Nor. Let 's in; 
 
 And with some other business put the king 
 From these sad thoughts that work too much upon 
 
 him: 
 My lord, you'll bear us company? 
 
 Cham. Excuse me; 
 
 The king has sent me otherwise: besides, 60 
 
 You '11 find a most unfit time to disturb him: 
 Health to your lordships. 
 
 Nor. Thanks, my good lord chamberlain. 
 
 [Exit Lord Chamberlain; and the King drazcs 
 
 the curtain and sits reading pensively > 
 
 Suf. How sad he looks! sure, he is much afflicted. 
 
 King. Who 's there, ha? 
 
 Nor. Pray God he be not angry. 
 
 64
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act II. Sc. ii. 
 
 King. Who 's there, I say ? How dare you thrust yourselves 
 
 Into my private meditations ? 
 
 Who am I? ha? 
 Nor. A gracious king that pardons all offences 
 
 Malice ne'er meant : our breach of duty this way 
 
 Is business of estate, in which we come 70 
 
 To know your royal pleasure. 
 King. Ye are too bold : 
 
 Go to ; I '11 make ye know your times of business : 
 
 Is this an hour for temporal affairs, ha ? 
 
 Enter Wolsey and Campeius, zvith a commission. 
 
 Wlio 's there ? my good lord cardinal ? O my Wolsey, 
 
 The quiet of my wounded conscience, 
 
 Thou art a cure fit for a king. [To Camp.] You 're 
 welcome. 
 
 Most learned reverend sir, into our kingdom : 
 
 Use us and it. [To Wols.'\ My good lord, have 
 great care 
 
 I be not found a talker. 
 Wol. Sir, you cannot. 
 
 I would vour grace would give us but an hour 80 
 
 Of private conference. 
 King. [To Xor. and Suf.] We are busy; go. 
 
 Nor. [Aside fo Suf.] This priest has no pride in him ? 
 Suf. [Aside fo Nov.] Not to speak of: 
 
 I would not be so sick though for his place : 
 
 But this cannot continue. 
 Nor. [Aside fo Suf .] If it do, 
 
 I '11 venture one have-at-him. 
 Suf. [Aside to Nor.] I another. 
 
 [Exeunt Norfolk and Suffolk. 
 
 65
 
 Act II. Sc. ii. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 WoL Your grace has given a precedent of wisdom 
 Above all princes, in committing freely 
 Your scruple to the voice of Christendom : 
 Who can be angry now ? what envy reach you ? 
 The Spaniard, tied by blood and favour to her, 90 
 Must now confess, if they have any goodness. 
 The trial just and noble. All the clerks, 
 I mean the learned ones, in Christian kingdoms 
 Have their free voices: Rome, the nurse of judge- 
 ment. 
 Invited by your noble self, hath sent 
 One general tongue unto us, this good man, 
 This just and learned priest. Cardinal Campeius ; 
 Whom once more I present unto your highness. 
 
 King. And once more in mine arms I bid him welcome, 
 And thank the holy conclave for their loves : 100 
 'fhev have sent me such a man I would have wish'd 
 'for. 
 
 Cam. Your grace must needs deserve all strangers' loves. 
 You are so noble. To your highness' hand 
 I tender my commission ; by whose virtue. 
 The court of Rome co*nmanding, you, my lord 
 Cardinal of York, are join'd with me their servant 
 In the unpartial judging of this business. 
 
 Kmg. 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 no 
 
 So dear in heart, not to deny her that 
 A woman of less place might ask by law. 
 Scholars allow'd freely to argue for her. 
 
 King. Ay, and the best she shall have ; and my favour 
 To him that does best : God forbid else. Cardinal, 
 66
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act II. Sc. ii. 
 
 Prithee, call Gardiner to me, my new secretary : 
 
 I find him a fit fellow. [Exit Wolsey, 
 
 Re-enter Wolsey, unth Gardiner. 
 
 Wol. [Aside to Gard.\ Give me your hand: much joy 
 and favour to you : 
 You are the king's now. 
 
 Card. [Aside to Wol.] But to be commanded 119 
 
 For ever by your grace, whose hand has raised me. 
 
 King. Come hither, Gardiner. [JValks and zvhispers. 
 
 Cam. My Lord of York, was not one Doctor Pace 
 In this man's place before him? 
 
 Wol. Yes, he was. 
 
 Cam. Was he not held a learned man? 
 
 Wol. Yes, surely. 
 
 Cam. Believe me, there 's an ill opinion spread then, 
 Even of yourself, lord cardinal. * 
 
 Wol. Kow ! 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 ^till ; which so grieved him 
 That he ran mad and died. 
 
 Wol. Heaven's peace be with him! 130 
 
 That 's Christian care enough : for living murmurers 
 There 's places of rebuke. He was a fool ; 
 For he would needs be virtuous : that good fellow. 
 If I command him, follows my appointment : 
 I will have none so near else. Learn this, brother, 
 We live not to be griped by meaner persons. 
 
 King. Deliver this with modesty to the queen. 
 
 [Exit Gardiner, 
 The most convenient place that I can think of 
 
 67
 
 Act II. Sc. iii. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 For such receipt of learning is Black-Friars ; 
 
 There ye shall meet about this weighty business. 140 
 
 My Wolsey, see it furnish'd. O, my lord, 
 
 Would it not grieve an able man to leave 
 
 So sweet a bedfellow ? But, conscience, conscience ! 
 
 O, 'tis a tender place ; and I must leave her. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 An ante-chamber of the Queen's apartments. 
 Enter Anne BuUen 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 tnany 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 
 
 ]\lelt 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. 
 
 Anne. So much the more 
 
 68
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act II. Sc. iii. 
 
 Must pity drop upon her. Verily, 
 I swear, 'tis better to be lowly born, 
 And range with humble livers in content, 20 
 
 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 my troth and maidenhead, 
 
 I would not be a queen. 
 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 
 Afifected eminence, wealth, sovereignty ; 
 Which, to say sooth, are blessings ; and which gifts — 
 Saving your mincing — the capacity ^ 31 
 
 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 I'iches 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, 
 Wliat think you of a duchess ? have you limbs 
 To bear that load of title? 
 Anne. No, in truth. 
 
 Old L. Then you are weakly made: pluck off a little; 40 
 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. 
 
 69
 
 Act 11. Sc. Hi. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Anne. How you do talk! 
 
 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 Lord 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, I 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 hallowed, nor my wishes 
 More worth than empty vanities ; yet prayers and wishes 
 
 70
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act II. Sc. iii. 
 
 Are all I 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, 
 
 I shall not fail to approve the fair conceit 
 The king hath of you. [Aside] 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 '11 to the king, 
 And say I spoke with you. 
 
 Anne. My honour'd lord. 8o 
 
 [Exit Lord Chamberlain. 
 
 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 
 
 For any suit of pounds ; and you, O fate ! 
 
 A very fresh fish here — fie, fie, fie upon 
 
 This compell'd fortune! — have your mouth fiU'd up 
 
 Before you open it. 
 
 Anne. This is strange to me. 
 
 OldL. 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 ! 
 
 71
 
 Act II. Sc. iv. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 No other obligation ! By my life, 
 That promises mo 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 ? 
 
 Aline. . Good lady, loo 
 
 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 
 In our long absence : pray, do not deliver 
 What here you Ve heard to her. 
 
 Oldh. What do you think me? 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 A hall in Black-Friars. 
 
 Trumpets, sennet and cornets. Enter tivo Vergers, with 
 short silver zvands; next thcni, tzco Scribes, in the 
 habit of doctors; after them, the Archbishop of Can- 
 terbury alone; after him, the Bishops of Lincoln, Ely, 
 Rochester, and Saint Asaph; next them, zvith some 
 small distance, follows a Gentleman bearing the 
 purse, zvith the great seal, and a cardinal's hat; then 
 two Priests, bearing each a silver cross; then a Gen- 
 tleman Usher bare-headed, accompanied zvith a Ser- 
 geant at arms bearing a silver mace; then tzvo Gen- 
 tlemen bearing tzvo great silver pillars; after them, 
 side by side, the tzvo Cardinals ; tzvo Noblemen zvith 
 the szvord and mace. The King takes place under 
 the cloth of state; the tzvo Cardinals sit under him as 
 judges. The Queen takes place some distance from 
 
 72
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act II. Sc. iv. 
 
 the King. The Bishops place tJieinselves on each side 
 the court, in manner of a consistory; belozv them, 
 the Scribes. The Lords sit next the Bishops. The 
 rest of the Attendants stand in convenient order about 
 the stage. 
 
 Wol. Whilst our commission from Rome is read, 
 Let silence be 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. 
 
 Scribe. Say, Katharine Queen of England, come into lo 
 the court. 
 
 Crier. Katharine Queen of England, &c. 
 
 [The Queen makes no ansiver, rises out of her chair, 
 goes about the court, comes to the King, and 
 kneels at his feet; then speaks. 
 
 0. 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 ofifended you? what cause 
 Hath my behaviour given to your displeasure, 20 
 That thus you should proceed to put me off. 
 And take your good grace from me ? Heaven witness, 
 
 7:^
 
 Act II. Sc. iv, FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 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 sorry 
 
 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 30 
 
 He were mine enemy? what friend of mine 
 
 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, 40 
 
 Against your sacred person, in God's name, 
 
 Turn me away, and let the foul'st contempt 
 
 Shut door upon me, and so give me up 
 
 To the sharp'st kind of justice. Please you, sir, 
 
 The king, your father, was reputed for 
 
 A prince most prudent, of an excellent 
 
 And unmatch'4 wit and judgement : Ferdinand, 
 
 My father, king of Spain, was reckoned one 
 
 The wisest prince that there had reign'd by many 
 
 A year before : it is not to be question'd 50 
 
 That they had gather'd a wise council to them 
 
 Of every realm, that did debate this business. 
 
 Who deem'd our marriage lawful : wherefore I humbly 
 
 Beseech you, sir, to spare me, till I may . 
 
 74
 
 LIFE or KING HENRY VIII. Act II. Sc. iv. 
 
 Be my friends in Spain advised, whose counsel 
 I will implore: if not, i' the name of God, 
 Your pleasure be fulfiU'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 60 
 
 To plead your cause: it shall be therefore bootless 
 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 70 
 
 We are a queen, or long have dream'd so, certain 
 The daughter of a king, my drops of tears 
 I '11 turn to sparks of fire. 
 
 Wol. Be patient yet. 
 
 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, 
 
 75
 
 Act 11. Sc. iv. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 I utterly abhor, yea, from my soul 8i 
 
 Refuse you for my judge; whom, yet once more, 
 I hold my most malicious foe, and think not 
 At all a friend to truth. 
 
 JVol. I do profess 
 
 You speak not like yourself; who ever vet 
 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, 90 
 
 Or how far further shall, is w^arranted 
 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 fr^e of your report, he knows 
 I am not of your wrong. Therefore in him 100 
 
 It lies to cure me; and the cure is to 
 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 arn a simple w^oman, much too weak 
 To oppose your cunning. You 're meek and humble- 
 mouth 'd ; 
 You sign your place and calling, in full seeming, 
 
 76
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act II. Sc. iv. 
 
 With meekness and humility; but your heart 
 
 Is cramm'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride, no 
 
 You have, by fortune and his highness' favours, 
 
 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, 120 
 
 And to be judged by him. 
 
 [She curtsies to the King, and offers to depart. 
 
 Cam. The queen is obstinate, 
 
 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. 
 
 Gent. Ush. 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 patience. Pray you, pass on: 
 I will not tarry, no, nor ever more 131 
 
 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, 
 For speaking false in that: thou art, alone, 
 
 77
 
 Act II. Sc. iv. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness, 
 
 Thy meekness saint-Hke, wife-hke government, 
 
 Obeying in commanding, and thy parts 
 
 Sovereign and pious else, could speak thee out, 140 
 
 The queen of earthly queens. She 's noble born, 
 
 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 150 
 
 Induce you to the question on 't? or ever 
 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 160 
 The queen is put in anger. You're excused: 
 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, 
 
 78
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act II. Sc. iv. 
 
 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, 170 
 
 Scruple, and prick, on certain speeches utter'd 
 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, 
 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, 180 
 Sometimes our brother's wife. This respite shook 
 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 oilEices of life to 't than 190 
 
 The grave does to the dead; for her male issue 
 Or died where they were made, or shortly after 
 This world had air'd 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 
 
 79
 
 Act II. Sc. iv. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 By this my issue's fail; and that gave to me 
 
 Many a groaning throe. Thus hulhng in 
 
 The wild sea of my conscience, I did steer 200 
 
 Toward this remedy whereupon we are 
 
 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 learn'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. \"ery well, my liege. 
 
 King. I have spoke long: be pleased yourself to say 
 How far you satisfied me. 
 
 Lin. So please your highness, 211 
 
 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; 220 
 
 But by particular consent proceeded 
 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 
 80
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act III. Sc. i. 
 
 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 231 
 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. [Aside^ I may perceive 
 
 These cardinals trifle with me : I abhor 
 This dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome. 
 My learn 'd and well-beloved servant, Cranmer, 
 Prithee, return ; with thy approach, I know, 
 My comfort comes along. — Break up the court : 240 
 I say, set on. [Exeunt in manner as they entered. 
 
 ACT THIRD. 
 Scene I. 
 
 London. The Queen's apartments. 
 
 The Queen and her Women, as at zvork. 
 
 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 mxountain tops that freeze, 
 Bow themselves when he did sing: 
 81
 
 Act III. Sc. i. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 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, lo 
 
 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. KatJu How^ now ! 
 
 Gent. An 't please your grace, the two great cardinals 
 
 Wait in the presence. 
 Q. Kath, Would they speak w^th 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? 
 
 I do not like their coming. Now I think on 't, 21 
 
 They should be good men, their affairs as righteous : 
 
 But all hoods make not monks. 
 
 * 
 Enter the tzuo Cardinals, IVolsey and Campeiiis. 
 
 Wol. Peace to your highness ! 
 
 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 ? 
 U^ol. Alay it please you, noble madam, to withdraw 
 
 Into your private chamber, we shall give you 
 
 82
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act III. Sc. i. 
 
 The full cause of our coming. 
 
 Q. Kath. Speak it here; 
 
 There 's nothing I have done yet, o' my conscience, 
 
 Deserves a corner: w^ould all other women 31 
 
 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 Hfe so even. If your business 
 
 Seek me out, and that way I am wife in. 
 
 Out with it boldly: truth loves open dealing. 
 
 IVoL Tanta est erga te mentis integritas, regina ser- 40 
 enissima, — 
 
 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. Xoble lady, 50 
 
 I am sorry my integrity should breed, 
 And service to his majesty and you. 
 So deep suspicion, where all faith was meant. 
 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 
 
 83
 
 Act III. Sc. i. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 How you stand minded in the weighty difference 
 Between the king and you, and to deUver, 
 Like free and honest men, our just opinions 60 
 
 And comforts to your cause. 
 
 Cam. Most honour'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. Kafh. [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, 
 More 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 
 Among 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 —
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act III. Sc. i. 
 
 And live a subject? Nay, forsooth, my friends, 
 
 They that must weigh out my afflictions, 
 
 They that my trust must grow to, hve not here: 
 
 They are, as all my other comforts, far hence 90 
 
 In mine own country, lords. 
 Ca7n. I 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 '11 part away disgraced. 
 IVol. He tells you rightly. 
 
 0. 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. 
 
 0. 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 ? 
 
 The cordial that ye bring a wretched lady, 
 
 A woman lost among ye, laugh'd at, scorn'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. in 
 
 JVoI. Madam, this is a mere distraction; 
 
 You turn the good we offer into envy. 
 Q. Kath. Ye turn me into nothing: woe upon ye, 
 
 85
 
 Act III. Sc. i. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 And all such false professors! would you 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? 
 
 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 
 
 ^lake me a curse like this. 
 
 Cam. Your fears are worse. 
 
 0. Kafh. 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'dhim? 
 
 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. 
 IV of. Madam, you wander from the good we aim at. 
 Q. Kaih. 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 I had never trod this English earth. 
 
 Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it!
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act III. Sc. i. 
 
 Ye have angels' faces, but heaven knows your hearts. 
 
 What win become of me now, wretched lady! 
 
 I am the most unhappy woman Hving. 
 
 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. 
 
 IVol. If your grace 
 
 Could but be brought to know our ends arc 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. 
 
 Cant. Madam, you '11 find it so. You wrong your virtues 
 With these weak w^omen'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. 
 
 87
 
 Act III. Sc. ii. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Q. Kath, Do what ye will, my lords : and pray forgive me, 
 If I have used myself unmamierly; 
 You know I 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 i8o 
 While I 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. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 Ante-chamber to the King's apartment. 
 
 Enter the Duke of Norfolk, the Duke of Suffolk, the 
 Earl of Surrey, and the Lord 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 10 
 
 Strangely neglected? when did he regard 
 The stamp of nobleness in any person 
 Out of himself? 
 
 88
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act III. Sc. ii. 
 
 Cham. My lords, yon 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 2C 
 
 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. Believe it, this is true : 
 
 In the divorce his contrary proceedings 
 Are all unfolded ; wherein he appears 
 As I would wish mine enemy. 
 
 Stir. How came 
 
 His practices to light? 
 
 Snf. Most strangely. 
 
 Siir. O, how, how? 
 
 Snf. The cardinal's letters to the pope miscarried, 30 
 
 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 afifection to 
 A creature of the queen's. Lady Anne Bullen/ 
 
 Sur. Has the king this ? 
 
 Snf. Believe it. 
 
 89
 
 Act III. Sc. ii. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Sur. Will this work ? 
 
 Cham. 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 ! 
 
 Siif. May you be happy in your wish, my lord ! 
 For, I profess, you have it. 
 
 Sur. Now, all my joy 
 
 Trace the conjunction! 
 
 Suf. Aly 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. 
 
 Sur, But will the king 
 
 Digest this letter of the cardinal's? 
 The Lord forbid ! 
 
 Nor. Alarry, amen ! 
 
 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 unhandled, and 
 Is posted as the agent of our cardinal, 
 To second all his plot. I do assure you 60 
 
 The king cried ' Ha ! ' at this. 
 90
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act III. Sc. ii. 
 
 Cham. Now God incense him, 
 
 And let him cry ' Ha ! ' louder ! 
 ?\Tgj.^ But, my lord, 
 
 When returns Cranmer? 
 Suf. He is returned 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. 
 j^Q^^ This same Cranmer 's 
 
 A worthy fellow, and hath ta'en much pain 
 
 In the king's business. 
 5-1^/ He has ; and we shall see him 
 
 For it an archbishop. 
 jVor. So I hear. 
 
 Suf. 'Tis so. 
 
 The cardinal ! 
 
 Enter Wolsey and Cromzvell. 
 
 JSfor. Observe, observe, he 's moody. 
 
 WoL The packet, Cromwell, 
 Gave 't you the king ? 
 
 Crom. To his own hand, in 's bedchamber. 
 
 WoL Look'd he o' the inside of the paper? 
 
 Crom. Presently 
 
 He did unseal them, and the first he view'd, 
 He did it with a serious mJnd ; a heed 80 
 
 Was in his countenance. You he bade 
 Attend him here this morning. 
 
 91
 
 Act III. Sc. ii. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Wol. Is he ready 
 
 To come abroad ? 
 
 Croui. I think, by this he is. 
 
 Wol. Leave me awhile. [Exit Cromwell 
 
 [Aside] It shall be to the Duchess of Alenqon, 
 The French king's sister : he shall marry her. 
 Anne Bullen ! No ; I '11 no Anne BuUens for him : 
 There 's more in 't than fair visage. Bullen ! 
 No, we '11 no Bullens. Speedily I wish 
 To hear from Rome. The Marchioness of Pem- 
 broke ! 90 
 
 No7'. He 's discontented. 
 
 Suf. May be, he hears the king 
 
 Does whet his anger to him. 
 
 Sur. Sharp enough, 
 
 Lord, for thy justice! 
 
 Wol. [Aside] The late queen's gentlewoman, a knight's 
 daughter, 
 To be her mistress' mistress ! the queen's queen ! 
 This candle burns 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. 
 
 Noi\ He is vex'd at something. 
 
 Sur. I would 'twere something that would fret the 
 string, 
 The master-cord on 's heart ! 
 92
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act III. Sc. ii. 
 
 Enter King, reading of a sehedule, and Lovell. 
 
 Stif. The king, the king ! 
 
 King. \Miat 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 1 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, 
 
 93
 
 Act III. Sc. ii. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 And fix'd on spiritual object, he should still 
 Dwell in his musings : but I am afraid 
 His thinkings are below the moon, not worth 
 His serious considering. 
 
 [King takes his scat; zvhispcrs Lovcll, 
 zuho goes to the Cardinal. 
 
 Wol. Heaven forgive me ! 
 
 Ever God bless your highness ! 
 
 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. 
 
 Wol 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 tendence to. 
 
 King. You have said well. 
 
 Wol. 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, 
 
 94
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act III. Sc. ii. 
 
 I have kept you next my heart ; have not alone 
 Emplov'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? i6o 
 
 Sur. [Aside] The Lord increase this business! 
 
 King. 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? 
 
 Wol. 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 alleglant 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 answer'd ; 
 
 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 
 
 95
 
 Act III. Sc. ii. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 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. 
 
 J Vol. I do profess 190 
 
 That for your highness' good I ever labour'd 
 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 
 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. [Gk'ing him papers.] 
 
 Read o'er this ; 
 And after, this : and then to breakfast with 
 What appetite you have. 
 
 [Exit King, frozvning upon the Cardinal: the 
 nobles throng after him, smiling and whis- 
 pering. 
 
 IVol. 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 
 
 96
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act III. Sc. ii. 
 
 For mine own ends ; indeed, to gain the popedom, 
 And fee my friends in Rome. O neglige iicj! 
 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. 
 
 Re-enter to Wolsey the Diikes of A' or folk and Suffolk, the 
 Earl of Surrey, and the Lord Chamberlain. 
 
 Nor. Hear the king's pleasure, cardinal : w^ho 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 w^eighty. 
 Suf. V\\\o dare cross 'em, 
 
 Bearing the king's will from his mouth expressly? 
 Wol. Till I find more than will or words to do it — 
 
 97
 
 Act III. Sc. ii. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 I mean your malice — know, officious lords, 
 
 T 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 ? 
 
 Sur. The king, that gave it. 
 
 Wol. It must be himself, then. 251 
 
 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 
 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 ! 
 You sent me deputy for Ireland ; 260 
 
 Far from 4"iis 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. 
 
 Wol. This, and all else. 
 
 98
 
 LIFE or KING HENRY VIII. Act III. Sc. ii. 
 
 This talking lord can lay upon 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 m.ate a sounder man than Surrey can be. 
 And all that love his follies. 
 Stir. By my soul, 
 
 Your long coat, priest, protects you ; thou shouldst 
 
 feel 
 My sword i' the Ufe-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. 
 jVol. Al^ goodness 
 
 Is poison to thy stomach. 
 ^i^y^ 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. 
 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, 
 99
 
 Act III. Sc. ii. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Produce the grand sum of his sins, the articles 
 Collected 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 
 
 And spotless shall mine innocence arise, 
 When the king knows my truth. 
 
 Siir. 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 '11 show a little honesty. 
 
 IV oL 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. 
 You wrought to be a legate ; by which power 311 
 You maim'd the jurisdiction of all bishops. 
 
 Xor. Then that in all you writ to Rome, or else 
 To foreign princes, ' Ego et Rex mens ' 
 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. 
 
 Sitr. Item, you sent a large commission 320 
 
 100
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act III. Sc. ii. 
 
 To Gregory de Cassado, to conclude, 
 
 Without the king'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 stampd on the king's coin. 
 
 Snr. 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. 
 
 Snr. 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 hut Wolsey. 
 
 lOI
 
 Act III. Sc. ii. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 IVol. 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, 
 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 : 
 And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, 371 
 
 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? 
 
 102
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act III. Sc. ii. 
 
 IVoL 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 cnred me, 
 I humbly thank his grace ; and from these shcndders, 
 These ruin'd pillars, out of pity, taken 
 A load would sink a navy, too much honour. 
 O, 'tis a burden, Cromwell, 'tis a burden 
 Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven ! 
 
 Croui. I am glad your grace has made that right use of it. 
 
 IVcl. 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. 
 
 IVoL God bless him ! 
 
 Crom. The next is, that Sir Thomas More is chosen 
 Lord chancellor in your place. 
 
 IVol. 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 ! 
 What more? 
 
 Crom. That Cranmer is return'd with welcome, 400 
 
 Install'd lord archbishop of Canterbury. 
 
 IVol. That 's news indeed. 
 
 Crom. Last, that the Lady Anne, 
 
 103
 
 Act III. Sc. ii, FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 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. 
 
 U'ol. There was the weight that puH'd me down. O 
 Cromwell, 
 The kmg has gone beyond me : all my glories 
 In that one woman I have lost for ever : 
 No sun shall ever usher forth mine honours, 410 
 
 Or gild again the noble troops that waited 
 Upon my smiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell ; 
 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, 
 Neglect him not ; make use now, and provide 420 
 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, 
 Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. 430 
 
 Let 's dry our eyes : and thus far hear me, Cromwell ; 
 And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be, 
 104
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act III. Sc. ii. 
 
 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 wTeck, to rise in ; 
 A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it. 
 Mark but my fall and that that ruin'd me. 
 Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition : 440 
 Bv 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. 
 
 Thou fall'st a blessed martyr ! Serve the king ; 
 
 And prithee, lead me in : 45^ 
 
 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. 
 IYqI So I have. Farewell 
 
 The hopes of court ! my hopes in heaven do dwell. 
 
 [Exeunt, 
 
 105
 
 Act IV. Sc. i. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 ACT FOURTH. 
 Scene I. 
 
 A street in Westminster. 
 
 Enter tzvo Gentlemen, meeting one another. 
 
 First Gent. You 're well met once again. 
 
 Sec. Gent. 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 offer' d 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, lO 
 
 Pageants and sights of honour. 
 First Gent. Never greater, 
 
 Nor, I '11 assure you, better taken, sir. 
 Sec. Gent. Alay I be bold to ask what that contains, 
 
 That paper in your hand ? 
 First Gent. Yes ; 'tis the list 
 
 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, 
 
 I should have been beholding to your paper. 21 
 
 106
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act IV. Sc. i. 
 
 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 appear'd 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. 
 
 THE ORDER OF THE CORONATION. 
 
 1. A lively Flourish of trumpets. 
 
 2. Then two Judges. 
 
 3. Lord Chancellor, zvith purse and mace before him. 
 
 4. Choristers, singing. Musicians. 
 
 5. Mayor of London, bearing the mace. Then Garter, in 
 
 his coat of arms, and on his head he wears a gilt 
 copper crown. 
 
 6. Marquess Dorset, bearing a sceptre of gold, on his head 
 
 a demi-coronal of gold. With him, the Earl of 
 Surrey, bearing the rod of silver zvith the dove, 
 crozvned zvith an earl's coronet. Collars of SS. 
 
 7. Duke of Suifolk in his robe of estate, his coronet on 
 
 his head, bearing a long white wand as high- 
 
 107
 
 Act IV. Sc. i. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 stez^'ard. With him, the Duke of Norfolk, zvith 
 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 
 zdth pearl, crowned. On each side her, the 
 Bishops of London and Winchester. 
 
 9. The old Duchess of Norfolk, in a coronal of gold, 
 
 wrought zvith Hozvers, bearing the Queen s train. 
 
 10. Certain Ladies or Countesses, zvith plain circlets of 
 
 gold zvithout Hozvers. 
 
 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 40 
 
 The Duke of Suffolk? 
 First Gent. 'Tis the same : high-steward. 
 
 Sec. Gent. And that my Lord of Norfolk? 
 First Gent. Yes. 
 
 Sec. Gent. [Looking on the Queen] Heaven bless thee! 
 
 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 his arms. 
 
 And more and richer, when he strains that lady : 
 
 I cannot blame his conscience. 
 First Gent. They that bear 
 
 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 
 
 108
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act IV. Sc. i. 
 
 I take it, she that carries up the train 
 Is that old 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 of trumpets. 
 
 Enter a third Gentleman. 
 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. "^^^ 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. 
 As loud and to as many tunes : hats, cloaks,— 
 109
 
 Act IV. Sc. i. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 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. Xo man living 
 Could say ' This is my wife ' there, all were woven 
 So strangely in one piece. 
 
 Sec. Gent. But \A;hat follow'd ? 8i 
 
 Third Gent. At length her grace rose, and with modest 
 paces 
 Came to the altar, where she kneel'd and saintlike 
 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 alter'd, that the old name 
 Is fresh about me. . 
 
 Sec. Gent. \A^hat two reverend bishops 
 
 Were those that went on each side of the queen ? 100 
 no
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act IV. Sc, ii 
 
 Third Gent. Stokeslyand Gardiner ; the one of Winchester, 
 Newly preferr'd from the king's secretary, 
 The otlier, London. 
 
 Sec. Gent. He of Wincliester 
 
 Is held no great good lover of the archbishop's, 
 The virtuous Cranmer. 
 
 Third Gent. AH 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 ; 
 
 A man in much esteem with the king, and truly 
 A worthy friend. The king has made him master 
 O' the j ewel house, m 
 
 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, 
 I '11 tell ye more. 
 
 Both. You may command us, sir. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 Kimholton. 
 
 Enter Katharine, Dowager, sick: led between Griffith 
 her Gentleman-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, 
 III
 
 Act IV. Sc. ii. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 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 I think your grace. 
 
 Out of the pain you suffer'd, gave no ear to 't. 
 
 Kath. Prithee, good Griffith, tell me how he died : 
 
 If well, he stepp'd before me, happily, lo 
 
 For my example. 
 
 Grif. Well, the voice goes, madam : 
 
 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 charity ! ' 
 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 !
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act IV. Sc. ii. 
 
 Yet thus far, Griffith, 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 body he was ill, and gave 
 The clergy ill example. 
 Grif. Xoble 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 else. 
 Qrif^ 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 
 
 113
 
 Act IV. Sc. ii. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 The other, though unfinished, 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 
 
 I natned my knell, whilst I sit meditating 
 
 On that celestial harmony I go to. 
 
 [Sad and solemn music. 
 
 Grif. She is asleep: good wench, let 's sit down quiet, 81 
 For fear we wake her : softly, gentle Patience. 
 
 The vision. Enter, solemnly tripping one after another, 
 six personages, clad in white robes, zvearing on their 
 heads garlands of bays, and golden visards on their 
 faces; branches of bays or palm in their hands. 
 They first congee unto her, then dance; and, at cer- 
 tain changes, the first tzvo hold a spare garland over 
 her head; at which the other four make reverent 
 curtsies; then the two that held the garland deliver 
 the same to the other next two, zvho observe the same 
 114
 
 LIFE Of KING HENRY VIII. Act IV. Sc. ii. 
 
 order in their changes, and holding the garland over 
 her head: which done, they deliver the same garland 
 to the last two, zvho 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 thcui. 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? 
 
 Qyif^ 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. P.id the music leave ; 
 
 They are harsh and heavy to me. [Music ceases. 
 
 p^f^ Do you note 
 
 How much her grace is alter'd on the sudden? 
 How lon.c^ her face is drawn ! how pale she looks, 
 And of an earthy cold! Mark her eyes! 
 
 Grif. She is going, wench : pray, pray. 
 
 PQf^ Heaven comfort her! 
 
 Enter a Messenger. 
 
 Mess. An 't like your grace, — 
 
 115
 
 Act IV. Sc. ii. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Kath. You are a saucy fellow : loo 
 
 Deserve we no more reverence? 
 
 Grif. You are to blame, 
 
 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 Capucins. 
 
 If my sight fail not, 
 You should be lord ambassador from the emperor, 
 My royal nephew, and your name Capucius. 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, 
 
 First, mine ow^n service to your grace ; the next, 
 The king's request that I would visit you ; 
 Who grieves much for your w^eakness, 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 ; 120 
 'Tis like a pardon after execution : 
 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. 
 
 116
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act IV. Sc. ii. 
 
 Kath. So may he ever do ! and ever flourish, 
 
 When I shall dvveU with worms, and my poor name 
 Banish'd the kingdom ! Patience, is that letter, 
 I caused you write, yet sent away ? 
 
 p^f^ Xo, 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, I 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. 
 117
 
 Act V. Sc. i. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 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. INIine 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 flow^ers, 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 FIFTH. 
 Scene I. 
 
 London. A gallery in the palace. 
 
 Enter Gardiner, 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? 
 Boy. It hath struck. 
 
 Gar. These should be hours for necessities, 
 
 118
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act V. Sc. i. 
 
 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? 
 
 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 '11 take my leave. 
 
 Gar. Not yet, Sir Thomas Lovell. What 's the matter > 
 It seems you are in haste : an if there be 1 1 
 
 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. ^ly 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 grea't extremity ; and fear'd 
 She 'II 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. Alethinks 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, 
 
 119
 
 Act V. Sc. i. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 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. 
 
 Loi'. Xow, sir, you speak of two 
 
 The most remarked i' the kingdom. As for Cromwell, 
 Beside that of the jewel house, is made master 
 O' the rolls, and the king's secretary ; further, sir, 
 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 — 
 
 A 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. 
 
 {Exeunt Gardiner and Page. 
 120
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act V. Sc. i. 
 
 Enter King and Suffolk. 
 
 King. Charles, I will play no more to-night ; 
 
 My mind 's not on 't ; you are too hard for me. 
 Siif. 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 greatest 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 ? 
 Loz\ So said her woman, and that her sufferance made 
 
 Almost each pang a death. 
 King. Alas, good lady ' 
 
 Siif. 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 w^ill 
 
 Remember in my prayers. 
 King. Charles, good night. [Exit Suffolk, 
 
 Enter Sir Anthony Denny. 
 
 Well, sir, what follows? 
 121
 
 Act V. Sc. i. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Den. Sir, I have brought my lord the archbishop, 8© 
 
 As yon 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 which the bishop spake: 
 
 I am happily come hither. 
 
 Re-enier Denny, with Cranmer. 
 
 King. Avoid the gallery. [Loz'ell seems to stay.] Ha! I 
 have said. Be gone. 
 
 What ! [Exeunt Eovell and Denny. 
 
 Cran. [Aside] I am fearful: wherefore frowns he thus? 
 
 'Tis his aspect of terror. All 's not well. 
 King. How now, my lord ! you do desire to know 
 
 Wherefore I sent for you. 
 Cran. [Kneeling] It is my duty 90 
 
 To attend your highness' pleasure. 
 King. Pray you, arise, 
 
 My good and gracicnis Lord of Canterbury. 
 
 Come, you and I must walk a turn together ; 
 
 { 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 : 
 
 I have, and most unwillingly, of late 
 
 Heard many grievous, I do say, my lord, 
 
 Grievous complaints of you : which, being consider'd. 
 
 Have moved us and our council, that vou shall loo
 
 LIFE or KING HENRY VIII. Act V. Sc. i. 
 
 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 
 \^'ould come against you. 
 
 Cran. [Kneeling] I humbly thank your highness; 
 
 And am right glad to catch this good occasion. 
 Most throughly to be winnow'd, where my chaff no 
 And corn 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. Xow, 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 
 Yourself and your accusers, and to have heard you, 
 Without indurance further. 
 
 Cran. ]\Iost dread liege, 121 
 
 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 
 \Vhat 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 
 
 123
 
 Act V. Sc. i. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Must bear the same proportion ; and not ever 
 The justice and the truth o' the question carries 130 
 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 mahce 
 Of as great size. Ween you of better kick, 
 I mean, in perjured witness, than your master, 
 Whose minister you are, whiles here he lived 
 Upon this naughty eartli ? Go to, go to ; 
 You take a precipice for no leap of danger. 
 And woo your own destruction. 
 
 Cran. God and your majesty 
 
 Protect mine innocence, or I fall into 141 
 
 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 w4tli 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 
 
 Will render you no remedy, this ring 150 
 
 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 ! 
 
 I swear he is true-hearted, and a soul 
 
 None better in my kingdom. Get you gone. 
 
 And do as I have bid you. [Exit Cranmer.] He has 
 
 strangled 
 His language in his tears. 
 124
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act V. Sc. i. 
 
 Enter Old Lady; Lovell following. 
 Gent. [Within] Comeback: what mean you ? 
 
 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 i6o 
 
 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 
 
 Both now and ever bless her ! 'tis a girl, 
 
 Promises boys hereafter. Sir, your queen 
 
 Desires your visitation, and to be 
 
 Acquainted with this stranger : 'tis as like you 
 
 As cherry is to cherry. 
 King. Lovell ! 
 
 Lov. Sir? 169 
 
 King. Give her an hundred marks. I '11 to the queen. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 OldL. An hundred marks! By this Hght, I'll ha' 
 more. 
 An ordinary groom is for such payment. 
 I will have more, or scold it out of him. 
 Said I for this, the girl was like to him? 
 I will have more, or else unsay 't ; and now, 
 While it is hot, I '11 put it to the issue. [Exeunt. 
 
 MS
 
 Act V. Sc. ii. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 Before the coujicil-chamber. 
 
 Pursuivants, Pages, etc., attending. 
 
 Enter Crannicr, ArchbisJwp 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 ? 
 
 Enter Keeper. 
 
 Keep. Yes, my lord; 
 
 But yet I cannot help you., 
 Cran. Why? 
 
 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 ! 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 
 \\'ait else at door, a fellow-councillor, 
 'Mong boys, grooms and lackeys. But their pleasures 
 Must be fulfill'd, and I attend with patience. 
 
 126
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act V. Sc. Hi. 
 
 Enter the King and But is at a z\.'indow above. 
 Butts. I '11 show your grace the strangest sight — 
 King. What 's that, Butts ? 20 
 
 Butts. I think your highness saw this many a day. 
 King. Body o' me, where is it ? 
 Butts. There, my lord : 
 
 The high promotion of his grace of Canterbury; 
 Who holds his state at door, 'mongst pursuivants, 
 Pages and footboys. 
 King. Ha ! 'tis he, indeed : 
 
 Is this the honour they do one another ? 
 'Tis well there 's one above 'em yet. I had thought 
 They had parted so much honesty among 'em, 
 At least good manners, as not thus to suffer 
 A man of his place and so near our favour 30 
 
 To dance attendance on their lordships' pleasures. 
 And at the door too, like a post with packets. 
 By holy Mary, Butts, there 's knavery : 
 Let 'em alone, and draw the curtain close ; 
 We shall hear more anon. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 The council-chamber. 
 
 Enter Lord Chancellor, places Jiinisclf at the upper end of 
 the table on the left hand; a seat being left void above 
 him, as for Canterbury's seat ; Duke of Suffolk, Duke 
 of Norfolk, Surrey, Lord Chamberlain, Gardiner, seat 
 themselves in order on each side. Cronnvell at lower 
 end, as secretary. Keeper at the door. 
 
 Chan. Speak to the business, master secretary: 
 Why are we met in council ? 
 
 127
 
 Act V. Sc. iii. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Croiii. Please your honours, 
 
 The chief cause concerns his grace of Canterbury. 
 
 Gar. Has he had knowledge of it ? 
 
 Crom. Yes. 
 
 Nor. Who waits there ? 
 
 Keep. Without, my noble lords ? 
 
 Gar. Yes. 
 
 Keep. My lord archbishop ; 
 
 And has done half an hour, to know your pleasures. 
 
 Chan. Let him come in. 
 
 Keep. Your grace may enter now. 
 
 [Craiunei' enters and approaches the council-table. 
 
 Chan, yiy good lord archbishop, I 'm very sorry 
 To sit here at this present and behold 
 That chair stand empty : but we all are men, lo 
 
 In our own natures frail and capable 
 Of our flesh ; few are angels : out of which frailty 
 And want of wisdom, you, that best should teach us, 
 Have misdemean'd yourself, and not a little, 
 Toward the king first, then his laws, in filling 
 The whole realm, by your teaching and your chap- 
 lains, — 
 For so we are informed, — with new opinions. 
 Divers and dangerous ; which are heresies. 
 And, not reform'd, may prove pernicious. 
 
 Gar. Which reformation must be sudden too, 20 
 
 My noble lords ; for those that tame wild horses 
 Pace 'em not in their hands to make 'em gentle, 
 But stop their mouths with stubborn bits and spur 'em, 
 Till they obey the manage. If we suffer. 
 Out of our easiness and childish pity 
 To one man's honour, this contagious sickness, 
 
 128
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act V. Sc. iii. 
 
 Farewell all physic : and what follows then ? 
 Commotions, uproars, with a general taint 
 Of the whole state : as of late days our neighbours, 
 The upper Germany, can dearly witness, 30 
 
 Yet freshly pitied in our memories. 
 
 Crau. My good lords, hitherto, in all the progress 
 Both of my life and office, I have labour'd, 
 And with no little study, that my teaching 
 And the strong course of my authority 
 Might go one way, and safely ; and the end 
 Was ever to do well : nor is there living, 
 I speak it with a single heart, my lords, 
 A man that more detests, more stirs against, 
 Both in his private conscience and his place, 40 
 
 Defacers of a public peace, than I do. 
 Pray heaven, the king may never find a heart 
 With less allegiance in it ! Men that make 
 Envy and crooked malice nourishment 
 Dare bit^ the best. I do beseech your lordships. 
 That, in this case of justice, my accusers. 
 Be what they will, may stand forth face to face. 
 And freely urge against me. 
 
 Sitf. Nay, my lord, 
 
 That cannot be : you are a councillor. 
 And, by that virtue, no man dare accuse you. 50 
 
 Ga7\ My lord, because we have business of more moment. 
 We will be short with you. 'Tis his highness' pleasure, 
 And our consent, for better trial of you, 
 From hence you be committed to the Tower ; 
 Where, being but a private man again, 
 You shall know many dare accuse you boldly, 
 ]\Iore than, I fear, you are provided for. 
 
 129
 
 Act V. Sc. iii. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Cran. Ah, my good Lord of Winchester, I thank you ; 
 You are always my good friend ; if your will pass, 
 I shall both f.nd >our lordship judge and juror, Cvr) 
 You are so merciful. I see your end ; 
 'Tis my undoing. Love and meekness, lord, 
 Becom.e a churchman better than ambition : 
 Win straying souls with modesty again. 
 Cast none away. That I shall clear myself, 
 Lay all the weight ye can upon my patience, 
 I make as little doubt as you do conscience 
 In doing daily wrongs. I could say more, 
 But reverence to your calling makes me modest. 
 
 Gar. My lord, my lord, you are a sectary ; 70 
 
 That 's the plain truth : your painted gloss discovers, 
 To men that understand you, w^ords and weakness. 
 
 Crom. My Lord of Winchester, you are a little. 
 
 By your good favour, too sharp ; men so noble, 
 How^ever faulty, yet should find respect 
 For what they have been : 'tis a cruelty 
 To load a falling man. 
 
 Gar. Good master secretary, 
 
 I cry your honour mercy ; you may, worst 
 Of all this table, say so. 
 
 Crom. AVhy, 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. 
 
 130
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIIL Act V. Sc. iii. 
 
 Remember your bold life too. 
 Chan. This is too much ; 
 
 Forbear, for shame, my lords. 
 Gar. I have done. 
 
 Croni. And I. 
 
 Clian. Then thus for you, my lord : it stands agreed, 
 
 1 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 ; 
 
 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 master. 
 Chaui. This is the king's ring. 
 Sur. 'Tis no counterfeit. 
 
 Siif. ^Tis the right ring, by heaven : I told ye all, 
 
 When we first put this dangerous stone a-roUing, 
 
 Twould fall upon ourselves. 
 
 131
 
 Act V. Sc. iii. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Nor. Do you think, my lords, 
 
 The king will suffer but the little finger 
 
 Of this man to be vex'd? 
 Cham. '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 burns ye : now have at ye ! 
 
 Enter King, frozcning 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 miost 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 and this great ofifender. 
 
 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 takest me for, I 'm sure 
 Thou hast a cruel nature and a bloody. 
 [To Craunier] Good man, sit down. Now let me see 
 the proudest 130 
 
 He, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee : 
 
 132
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act V. Sc. iii. 
 
 By all that 's holy, he had better starve 
 Than but once think this place becomes thee not. 
 Siir. May it please your grace, — 
 
 Ki)ia, No, sir, it does not please me. 
 
 I had thought I had had men of sonie 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 councillor 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. \yd\, 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, 160 
 
 133
 
 Act V. Sc. iv. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 I have a suit which you must not deny me ; 
 * That is, a fair young maid that yet wants baptism ; 
 You must be godfather, and answer for her. 
 
 Cran. The greatest monarch now aUve 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 vour 
 spoons : you shall have two noble partners with 
 you ; the old Duchess of Xorfolk, and Lady 
 Marquess Dorset: will these please you? 170 
 
 Once more, my Lord of '\\^inchester, I charge you 
 Embrace and love this man. 
 
 Car. 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 awav ; I lonsf 
 To have this young one made a Christian. 180 
 
 As T have made ye one, lords, one remain ; 
 So I grow stronger, you more honour gain. [EA'cuut. 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 TJic palace yard. 
 
 Noise and tuniidt i^nthin. Enter Porter and his Man. 
 
 Fort. You '11 leave your noise anon, ye rascals : do 
 you take the court for Paris-garden? ye rude 
 slaves, leave your gaping. 
 
 134
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act V. Sc iv. 
 
 [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 lo 
 . 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 — 
 
 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 in ? 
 As much as one sound cudgel of four foot — 
 You see the poor remainder — could distribute, 20 
 I made no spare, sir. 
 
 Port. You did nothing, sir. 
 
 Man, I am not Samson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colbranc, 
 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 ! 
 \_Within] 'Do you hear, master porter?' 
 
 Port. I shall be with you, presently, good master puppy. 
 Keep the door close, sirrah. 30 
 
 Man. What would you have me do? 
 
 Port. What should you do, but knock 'em down by 
 the dozens? Is this ^loorfields to muster in? 
 or have we some strange Indian with the great 
 
 135
 
 Act V. Sc. iv. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 tool come to court, the women so besiege us? 
 Bless me, what a fry of fornication is at door! 
 On my Christian conscience, this one christening 
 will beget a thousand ; here will be father, god- 
 father, and all together. 
 
 Mail. The spoons will be the bigger, sir. There is 40 
 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 w'lie of small wit near him, that 
 railed upon me till her pinked porringer fell off 50 
 her head, for kindling such a combustion in the 
 state. I missed the meteor once, and hit that 
 woman, who cried out ' Clubs ! ' when I might 
 see from far some forty truncheoners draw to 
 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 
 broomstaff 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 60 
 fain to draw mine honour in and let 'em win the 
 work : the devil was amongst 'em, I think, surely. 
 
 Port. These are the youths that thunder at a play- 
 house and fight for bitten apples ; that no 
 audience, but the tribulation of Tower-hill, or 
 the limbs of Limehousc, their dear brothers, 
 
 136
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act V. Sc. iv. 
 
 are able to endure. I have some of 'em in 
 Limbo Patrum, and there they are Hke to dance 
 these three days ; besides the running banquet of 
 two beadles that is to come. 70 
 
 Enter Lord Chamberlain. 
 
 Cliam. J\lercy o' me, what a multitude are here ! 
 
 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 : 80 
 
 An army cannot rule 'em. 
 
 Cham. As I live, 
 
 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 're lazy knaves ; 
 
 And here ye lie baiting of bombards when 
 
 Ye should do service. Hark! the trumpets sound; 
 
 They 're come already from the christening : 
 
 Go, break among the press, and find a way out 
 
 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, 91 
 
 Stand close up, or I '11 make your head ache. 
 
 137
 
 Act V. Sc. V. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Port. You i' the camlet, get up o* the rail ; 
 
 I '11 peck you o'er the pales else. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene V. 
 
 The palace. 
 
 Enter Trumpets, sounding; then two Aldermen, Lord 
 Mayor, Garter, Cranmer, Duke of Norfolk zi'ifh his 
 marshal's staff, Duke of Suffolk, tzco Nohlcmcn bear- 
 ing great standing-howls for the christening gifts: 
 then four Noblemen bearing a canopy, under which 
 the Duchess of Norfolk, godmother, bearing the 
 child richly habited in a mantle, etc., train borne b\ a 
 Lady; 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 pros- 
 perous life, long, and ever happy, to the high 
 and mighty princess of England, Elizabeth ! 
 
 Flourish. Enter King and Guard. 
 
 Gran. [Kneeling] And to your royal grace, and the good 
 queen, 
 Aly noble partners and myself thus pray : 
 All comfort, joy, in this niost 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? 
 
 Gran. Elizabeth. 
 
 Kmg. Stand up, lord. 
 
 [The King kisses the child. 
 With this kiss take my blessing : God protect thee ! 
 
 i.iS
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Act V. Sc. v. 
 
 Into whose hand I give thy Hfe. 
 Cran. Amen. ii 
 
 King. My noble gossips, ye have been too prodigal : 
 I 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 I utter 
 Let none think flattery, for they '11 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 bfhold 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 fear'd : her own shall bless 
 her ; 3° 
 
 Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn. 
 And hang their heads with sorrow, (lood 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. 
 
 139
 
 Act V. Sc. V. FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 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 lier from this cloud of dark- 
 ness — 
 Who from the sacred ashes of her honour 
 Shall star-like rise, as great in fame as she w^as. 
 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 : 
 \Mierever 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. 
 140
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Epilogue 
 
 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 hoHday. [Exeunt. 
 
 THE EPILOGUE. 
 
 'Tis ten to one this play can never please 
 All that are here : some come to take their ease. 
 And sleep an act or two ; but those, we fear. 
 We have frighted w^ith 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, I 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 ; 10 
 
 For such a one we show'd 'em : if they smile, 
 And say 'twill do, I k-now, within a while 
 All the best men are ours ; for 'tis ill hap. 
 If they hold when their ladies bid 'em clap. 
 
 i4I
 
 FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Glossary. 
 
 Abergavenny (vide Note) ; I. i. 
 
 211. 
 
 Abhor, protest strongly against 
 (according to Blackstone, a 
 technical term of the canon 
 law = L a t i n detestor, but 
 Holinshed has "Abhor, re- 
 fuse, and forsake") ; II. .iv. 
 8i. 
 
 Aboded] foreboded; I. i. 93- 
 
 Admit, permit, allow ; IV. ii. 
 107. 
 
 Advertise, inform; II. iv. 178. 
 
 Advised; " be a.," be careful, 
 reflect; I. i. 139. 
 
 After, afterwards; III. ii. 202. 
 
 Alike; "things known a.," i.e. 
 equally to you as to the 
 others ; I. ii. 45. 
 
 Allay, subdue, silence; II. i. 
 152. 
 
 A lie giant, loyal ; III. ii. 176. 
 
 Allozu'd, approved; I. ii. 83. 
 
 An, if; III. ii. 375. 
 
 Anon, presently; I. ii. 107. 
 
 A-picces, in pieces ; V. iv. 80. 
 
 Appliance, application, cure; I. 
 i. 124. 
 
 Approve, confirm (Collier MS., 
 " improve ") ; II. iii. 74. 
 
 Arrogancy, arrogance (Folio i, 
 "Arrogancie" ; Folios 2, 3, 4, 
 "Arrogance ") ; II. iv. no. 
 
 As, as if ; I. i. 10. 
 
 Asher-house ; Asher was the 
 old spelling of Esher, a place 
 near Hampton Court ; III. ii. 
 231. 
 
 At, with; V. i. 131. 
 
 Attach, arrest; I. i. 217. 
 
 , seized ; L i. 95. 
 
 Attainder, disgrace (Folios i, 
 2, "Attcndure"; Folios 3, 4, 
 "Attaindure") ; II. i. 41. 
 
 Avaitnt ; "give her the a.," bid 
 her begone ; II. iii. 10. 
 
 Avoid, quit, leave; V. i. 86. 
 
 Baiting, drmking heavily ; V. 
 iv. 85. 
 
 Bancjuet, dessert; "running b.," 
 i.e. hasty refreshment ; used 
 figuratively; I. iv. 12. 
 
 Bar, prevent ; III. ii. 17. 
 
 Beholding, beholden ; I. iv. 41. 
 
 Beneficial, beneficent ; " bene- 
 ficial sun," i.e. the King; I. i. 
 56. 
 
 BesJirezv me, a mild assevera- 
 tion ; II. iii. 24. 
 
 Beside, besides ; Prol. 19. 
 
 Bevis; alluding to the old 
 legend of the Saxon hero 
 Bevis, whom William the 
 Conqueror made Earl of 
 Southampton; he was cred- 
 ited with performing incred- 
 ible deeds of valour ; he con- 
 
 r42
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIIL 
 
 Glossary 
 
 quered the giant Ascapar ; I. 
 i. 38. 
 
 Bevy, company of ladies 
 (originally a flock of birds, 
 especially quails) ; I. iv. 4. 
 
 Blister' d, slashed, puffed (Fo- 
 lios I, 2, 3, " blistred " ; Fo- 
 lio 4, " bolstvcd ") : I. iii. 31. 
 
 ' Tall stockings, short-bliderd 
 
 breeches.'' 
 
 From an old French print repre-enting 
 
 a courtier of the time of Francis I. 
 
 Blow US, blow us up ; V. iv. 48. 
 
 Bombards, large leathern ves- 
 sels to carry liquors ; V. iv. 85. 
 
 Book, learning (Collier MS., 
 "brood" \ Lettsom conj. 
 "brat") ; Li. 122. 
 
 Bootless, useless; 11. iv. 61. 
 
 Bores, undermines, over- 
 reaches (Becket conj. 
 "bords") ; I. i. 128; 
 
 Bosom up, inclose in your 
 heart; I. i. 112. 
 
 Bozv'd; " a three-pence b.," i.e. 
 bent; perhaps alluding to the 
 old custom of ratifying an 
 agreement by a bent coin ; 
 or merely equivalent to a 
 " worthless coin " ; II. iii. 36. 
 (Cp. illustration.) 
 
 From an original specin;( n. 
 
 Brake, thicket ; I. ii. 75. 
 
 Brazier, used quibblingly in 
 double sense of* (i.) a worker 
 in brass, (ii.) a portable fire- 
 place ; V. iv. 42. 
 
 Broken zvitli, broached the sub- 
 ject to; V. i. 47. 
 
 B r o m s f a if, broomstaff's 
 length ; V. iv. 58. 
 
 Buzzing, whisper; II. i. 148. 
 
 By day and night! an exclama- 
 tion ; an oath ; I. ii. 213. 
 
 Camlet, a light woollen stuff 
 originally made of camel's 
 hair (Folios, " Chaniblet ") ; 
 V. iv. 93. 
 
 Capable of, susceptible to the 
 temptations of; V. iii. 11. 
 
 Cardinal (dissyllabic; Folio i, 
 " Cardnall") ; II. ii.97. 
 
 Carried, carried out, managed; 
 I. i. 100. 
 
 Caution, warning ; II. iv. 186. 
 
 Censure, judgement; I. i. 33- 
 
 Certain, certainly ; XL iv. 71. 
 
 143
 
 Glossary 
 
 FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Ccrtes, certainly ; I. i. 48. 
 
 Chafed, angry, enraged (Folios 
 1,2," chaff'd"); I.i. 123. 
 
 Challenge, the legal right of 
 objecting to being tried by a 
 person ; II. iv. yj. 
 
 Chambers, small cannon dis- 
 charged on festal occasions ; 
 I. iv. 49. 
 
 Cheruhins, cherubs ; I. i. 23. 
 
 Cheveril, kid-skin, used ad- 
 jectively ; II. iii. 32. 
 
 Chiding, noisy, clamorous; III. 
 ii. 197-^ 
 
 Chine, joint of beef (Collier 
 MS., " queen ") ; V. iv. 26. 
 
 Churehman, ecclesiastic; I. iii. 55. 
 
 Cited, summoned to appear ; 
 IV. i. 29. 
 
 Clerks, clergy ; II. ii. 92. 
 
 Clinquant, glittering with gold 
 or silver lace ; I. i. 19. 
 
 Clotharius, one of the Mero- 
 vingian kings of France ; 
 taken as a type of antiquity; 
 I. iii. 10. 
 
 Cliihs! " In any public affray, 
 the cry was Clubs! Clubs! by 
 way of calling for persons 
 with clubs to part the com- 
 batants " (Nares) ; clubs 
 were the weapons of the 
 London apprentices; V.iv.5.3. 
 
 Coasts, creeps along, like a ves- 
 sel following the windings 
 of the coast ; III. ii. 38. 
 
 Colbrand, the Danish giant 
 who. according to the old 
 legend, was slain by Sir Guy 
 of Warwick ; V. iv. 22. 
 
 MS., 
 'col- 
 
 Ill. 
 
 Cold, coldness (Collier 
 "coldness" : S. Walker, 
 our") ; IV. ii. 98. 
 
 Colour, pretext ; I. i. 178. 
 
 Come off, get out. escape 
 ii. 23. 
 
 Commends, delivers; II. iii, 61. 
 
 Commissions, warrants; I, ii. 
 20. 
 
 Compell'd, thrust upon one, un- 
 sought ; II. iii. 87. 
 
 Complete, accomplished; I. ii. 
 118. 
 
 Conceit, conception, opinion ; 
 II. iii. 74. 
 
 Conceive, think, look upon; I. 
 ii. 105. 
 
 Conclave; "the holy c," i.e. 
 the College of Cardinals; II. 
 ii. 100. 
 
 Confederacy, conspiracy ; I. ii. 3. 
 
 Confident; "I am c," I have 
 confidence in you ; II. i. 146. 
 
 Conjunction ; the technical 
 term in astrology for the 
 "conjunction" of two plan- 
 ets ; III. ii. 45. 
 
 Consulting ; "not c." i.e. not c. 
 with each other spontaneous- 
 ly ; I. i.91. 
 
 Contrary, contradictorv ; III. ii. 
 26. 
 
 Convented, convened, 
 m o n e d (Johnson, 
 vened") ; V. i. 52. 
 
 Cope; "to c," of encountering; 
 I. ii. 78. 
 
 Covent, convent; IV. ii. 19. 
 
 Crab-tree, crab apple tree; V. 
 iv. 8. 
 
 Credit, reputation ; III. ii. 265. 
 
 sum- 
 con- 
 
 144
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Cum privilegio, " with exclu- 
 sive right " ; I. iii. 34. 
 Cure, curacy; I. iv. 33. 
 
 Dare, make to cower in fear 
 
 {v. Note) ; III. ii. 282. 
 Dear, dearly; II. ii. iii. 
 Deliver, relate, report ; I. ii. 
 
 143. 
 Demure, solemn ; I. ii. 167. 
 Derived, drawn upon, brought 
 
 upon; II. iv. z^. 
 Desperate, reckless, rash; III. 
 
 i.86. 
 Did {v. Note) ; IV. ii. 60. 
 Difference, dissension; I. i. loi. 
 Discerner, critic ; I. i. 32. 
 Discovers, reveals, betrays ; V. 
 
 iii. 71. 
 Disposed, used, employed; I. ii. 
 
 116. 
 Due; " due o' the verdict," 
 
 right verdict (Folios i, 2, 
 
 " dew") ; V. i. 131. 
 Dunstable, Dunstable Priory ; 
 
 IV. i. 27. 
 
 Easy roads, easy journeys, 
 
 stages ; IV. ii. 17. 
 Element, component part; I. i. 
 
 48. 
 Emballing, investment with the 
 
 ball ; one of the insignia of 
 
 royalty used at a coronation ; 
 
 II. iii. 47. 
 Embracemcnt, embrace; I. i. 10. 
 End ; " the e.," at the bottom 
 
 (Long MS., "at the end") ; 
 
 II. i. 40. 
 Envy, malice, hatred; Il.i. 85. 
 Equal, impartial; II. ii. 108. 
 
 Estate, state ; II. ii. 70. 
 
 Even, pure, free from blemish ; 
 
 III. i. 37. 
 Ever; "not e.," i.e. not always ; 
 
 V. i. 129. 
 Exclamation, reproach, outcry ; 
 
 I. ii. 52. 
 Exhalation, meteor, shooting 
 
 star; III. ii. 226. 
 
 Fail, failure of issue ; I. ii. 145. 
 
 Fail'd, died; I. ii. 184. 
 
 Faints, makes faint; II. iii. 103. 
 
 Faith, fidelity; II. i. 145. 
 
 Father, father-in-law; II. i. 44. 
 
 Fearful, afraid, full of fear; V. 
 i.88. 
 
 Fellow, equal ; I. iii. 41. 
 
 Fellows, comrades; II. i. jt^. 
 
 Fierce, excessive ; I. i. 54. 
 
 File, list; I. i. 75. 
 
 Filed with, kept pace with (Fo- 
 lios, "niVd") ; III. ii.,171. 
 
 Fine hand, nice business; V. iv. 
 
 74. 
 Fire-drake, fiery dragon, me- 
 teor, will o' the wisp ; V. iv. 
 
 45- ^ 
 
 Fit ; " fit o' the face," grimace ; 
 
 I. iii. 7. 
 
 Fit, suitable; II. ii. 117. 
 
 Flaw'd, broken ; I. i. 95 ; made 
 rents in, wrought damage ; 
 I. ii. 21. 
 
 Fool and feather; alluding to 
 the grotesque plume of feath- 
 ers in the jester's cap; I. iii. 
 25. Cp. the accompanying il- 
 lustration from a bas relief 
 in the Hotel du Bourgthe- 
 roulde, Rouen. 
 
 145
 
 Glossary 
 
 FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 For, as for ; II. ii. 50. 
 Force, urge ; III. ii. 2. 
 Foreign man, one employed in 
 
 foreign embassies; II. ii. 129. 
 Forged, framed, planned ; I. ii. 
 
 181. 
 Forty hours, used for an in- 
 definite time ; III. ii. 253. 
 Forty pence, a sum commonly 
 
 used for a trifling wager; II. 
 
 iii. 89. 
 Frame, plan ; I. ii. 44. 
 Free, freely ; II. i. 82. 
 Free of, unaffected by; II. iv. 
 
 99. 
 Fret, eat away ; III. ii. 105. 
 From, of; III. ii. 268. 
 Front, am in the front rank; I. 
 
 ii. 42. 
 Fullers, cloth cleaners ; I. ii. 
 
 Furnish'd, suitably appointed, 
 arranged; II. ii. 141. 
 
 Gainsay, deny ; II. iv. 96. 
 
 Gait, walk (Folios, "gate"); 
 
 III. ii. 116. 
 
 Gall'd, wounded; III. ii. 207. 
 
 Gap, passage ; V. i. 36. 
 
 Gaping, bawling, shouting; V. 
 
 IV. 3. 
 
 Gave; " My mind g. me./' i.e. 
 gave me to understand, I had 
 a misgiving; V. iii. 109. 
 
 Gavest, didst impute to ; III. ii. 
 262. 
 
 Gives zvay, makes way, gives 
 opportunity; III. ii. 16. 
 
 Gladded, gladdened ; II, iv. 196. 
 
 Gladding, gladdening; V. i. 71. 
 
 Glistering, glistening, shining; 
 II. iii. 21. 
 
 Gloss; "painted g.," highly col- 
 oured comment, rhetorical 
 flourish ; V. iii. 71. 
 
 Go about, intend to do; Li. 131. 
 
 Going out, expedition ; I. i. yz- 
 
 Good, goodness (? wealth; or, 
 good man), merit (Johnson 
 conj. "ground''); V. i- 22 
 {vide Note) ; IV. ii. 60. # 
 
 Gossips, sponsors ; V. v. 12. 
 
 Government, self-control ; II. 
 iv. 138. 
 
 Grief, grievance; I. ii. 56. 
 
 Grosser, coarser, ruder ; I. ii. 
 84. 
 
 Guarded, trimmed, orna- 
 mented ; Prol. 16. 
 
 Guy, the famous Sir Guy of 
 Warwick, the hero of the old 
 romances ; V. iv. 22. 
 
 Hall ; " the hall," i.e. Westmin- 
 ster Hall ; II. i. 2. 
 
 146
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Happiest ; " h. hearers." i.e. 
 best disposed, most favour- 
 able ; Prol. 24. 
 
 Happily, haply, perhaps ; IV. ii. 
 10. 
 
 Hardly, harshly, unfavourably ; 
 I. ii. 105. 
 
 Hard-ruled, not easily man- 
 aged; III. ii. loi. 
 
 Have -at -him, attack, thrust 
 {vide Note) ; II. ii. 85. 
 
 Have at yon; an exclamation 
 of warning in attacking ; III. 
 
 ii. 309- 
 Having, possession, wealth ; II. 
 
 iii. 23. 
 He, man; V. iii. ,131. 
 Heart; " the best h.," the very 
 
 essence, core; I. ii. i. 
 Hedges, creeps along by hedge- 
 
 rows (W a r b u r t o n. 
 
 "edges") ; III. ii. 39. 
 Height; " to the h.." in the 
 
 highest degree; I. ii. 214. 
 Held, i'.e. have it acknowl- 
 edged; I. iii. 47. 
 , did hold good; II. i. 
 
 149. 
 Hire (dissyllabic) ; II. iii. 36. 
 Holidame ; " by my h.." an oath 
 
 (Folios, '' holydame " ; 
 
 Rowe, " holy Dame") ; V. i. 
 
 116. 
 Hours (dissyllabic) ; V. i. 2. 
 Hulling, floating to and fro ; II. 
 
 iv. 199. 
 Husband ; " an ill h.," a bad 
 
 economist or manager; III. 
 
 ii. 142. 
 
 In, concerning; II. iv. 103. 
 
 Incensed, incited, made to be- 
 lieve (Nares, " insens'd, i.e. 
 informed) ; V. i. 43. 
 
 Indifferent, impartial, un- 
 biased ; II. iv. 17. 
 
 Indurancc, durance, imprison- 
 ment; V. i. 121. 
 
 Innumerable; " i. substance," 
 untold wealth, immense 
 treasure (H a n m e r, " i. 
 sums ") ; III. ii. 326. 
 
 Interpreters; "sick i.." preju- 
 diced critics; I. ii. 82. 
 
 Issues, sons; III. ii. 291. 
 
 Item, again, further; used in 
 enumeration ; III. ii. 320. 
 
 Its, its own (Folios, "it's"); 
 I. i. 18. 
 
 Jaded, treated like jades, 
 
 spurned ; III. ii. 280. 
 Justify, confirm, ratify; I. ii. 6. 
 
 Kccch, the fat of an ox or 
 cow, rolled up by a butcher 
 in a round lumn. hence a 
 name given to Wolsey. the 
 butcher's son (Folio 4. 
 " Ketch ") : I. i. 55. 
 
 Kimbolton. Kimbolton Castle 
 in Huntingdon ; now the seat 
 of the Duke of Manchester 
 (Folios I, 2, " Kymmalton" 
 probably the contemporary 
 pronunciation of the word) ; 
 IV. i. 34. 
 
 Knock it, beat time; I. iv. 108. 
 
 Lag end, latter end; I. iii. t,$. 
 
 Large commission, warrant ex- 
 ercising full power ; III. ii. 
 320. 
 
 117
 
 Glossary 
 
 FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Late, " lately considered 
 
 valid"; IV. i. z^- 
 Lay, resided, dwelt ; IV. i. 28. 
 Lay by the heels, put in the 
 
 stocks ; V. iv. 83. 
 Lay upon, charge, impute; III. 
 
 ii. 265. 
 Learnedly, like one learned in 
 
 the law; II. i. 28. 
 Leave, leave off, desist ; IV. ii. 
 
 94- 
 
 Legatine, pertaining to a legate 
 (Folio I, " Legatiue " \ Fo- 
 lios 2, 3, " Legantive" ; Fo- 
 lio 4, " Legantine") ; III. ii. 
 339. 
 
 Leisure, time at one's own dis- 
 posal ; (Collier MS., "la- 
 hour") ; III. ii. 140. 
 
 Let; " let him be," even though 
 he be ; IV. ii. 146. 
 
 Letters-patents (the correct 
 Anglo-French form of Uteris 
 patentes) , letters patent; III. 
 ii. 250. 
 
 Level, aim : I. ii. 2. 
 
 Like it, may it please ; I. i. 
 100. 
 
 Limbo Patrum, prison ; strictly 
 the place where the souls of 
 the Fathers of the Old Tes- 
 tament remained till Christ's 
 descent to hell ; V. iv. 6S. 
 
 Line, equator ; V. iv. 44. 
 
 List, pleases ; II. ii. 22. 
 
 Little; " in a 1.," in few words, 
 briefly; II. i. 11. 
 
 'Longing, belonging (Folios i, 
 2, 3, " longing " ; Folio 4. 
 " 'longing") ; I. ii. 32. 
 
 Look for, expect; V. iv. 10. 
 
 Loose, free of speech ; II. i. 127. 
 Lop, the smaller branches of a 
 
 tree cut off for faggots ; I. ii. 
 
 96. 
 
 Lose, forget; II. i. 57. 
 
 Maidenhead, maidenhood; II. 
 iii. 23. 
 
 Main, general; IV. i. 31. 
 
 Makings ; " royal m.." ensigns 
 of royalty; IV. i. 87. 
 
 Manage, training; V. iii. 24. 
 
 Mark, a coin worth i 3/4 ; V. i. 
 170. 
 
 Marshalsea, the well-known 
 prison ; afterwards used as a 
 debtors' prison ; V. iv. 90. 
 
 May, can ; I. ii. 200. 
 
 May-day morning; " in the 
 month of May. namely, on 
 May-day in the morning, 
 every man except impedi- 
 ment, would walk into the 
 sweet meadows and green 
 woods; there to rejoice their 
 spirits with the beauty and 
 savour of sweet flowers, and 
 with the noise of birds, prais- 
 ing God in their kind " 
 (Stowe) ; V. iv. 15. 
 
 Mazed, amazed, bewildering ; 
 
 II. iv. 185. 
 
 Mean, means; V. iii. 146. 
 Measure, a slow stately dance ; 
 
 I. iv. 106. 
 Memorized, made memorable ; 
 
 III. ii. 52. 
 
 Mere, utter, absolute ; III. ii. 
 
 - 329- 
 
 Mincing, affectation; II. iii. 31. 
 
 Mind, memory; III. ii- 13&- 
 
 148
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Minds, " their royal m.," their 
 devotion to the king (Pope, 
 "loyal")', IV. i. 8. 
 
 Mistaken, misjudged; I. i. 195. 
 
 Mistakes, misunderstands ; III. 
 i. loi. 
 
 Mo, more ; II. iii. 97. 
 
 Model, image, copy; IV. ii. 132. 
 
 Modest, moderate ; V. iii. 69. 
 
 Modesty, moderation ; IV. ii. 
 
 74- 
 
 Moiety, half; I. ii. 12. 
 
 Moorfields, a place of resort 
 where the trainbands of the 
 city were exercised ; V. iv. 
 
 ZZ- 
 
 Motions, motives, impulses ; I. 
 
 i- 153- 
 Mounting, raising on high; I. 
 
 ii. 205. 
 Mounts, makes to mount; I. i. 
 
 • 144- 
 
 Music, musicians ; IV. ii. 94. 
 Mysteries, artificial fashions ; I. 
 iii. 2. 
 
 Naughty, wicked: V. i. 138. 
 
 N ew-trimm' d , newly fitted up; 
 I. ii. 80. 
 
 Noised, rumoured, reported ; I. 
 ii. 105. 
 
 Note, notice; "gives n.," pro- 
 claims, I. i. 63 ; information, 
 I. ii. 48. 
 
 Noted, noticed, observed ; II. i. 
 46. 
 
 Nothing, not at all; V. i. 125. 
 
 O', off from ; V. iv. 93. 
 Objections, accusations; III. ii. 
 307. 
 
 Offer, opportunity; III. ii. 4. 
 
 Office; " the o.," i.e. the officers 
 (Roderick conj. " each of- 
 fice ") ; I. i. 44. 
 
 Omit, miss, neglect; III. ii. 3. 
 
 On, of ; I. i. 94. 
 
 Once, at one time ; I. ii. 82. 
 
 On's, of his ; III. ii. 106. 
 
 Open; " in o.," openly, in pub- 
 lic; III. ii. 404. 
 
 Opinion, reputation {zide 
 Note) ; Prol. 20. 
 
 Opposing, placing face to face 
 (Long MS., "exposing") ; 
 
 IV. i. 67. 
 
 Other, otherwise ; I. iii. 58. 
 Outgo, go beyond, surpass ; I. 
 
 ii. 207. 
 Out of, except; III. ii. 13. 
 Outspeaks, exceeds; II. ii. 127. 
 Oiitzvorths, exceeds in value ; I. 
 
 i. 123. 
 
 Pace, put through their paces ; 
 
 V. iii. 22. 
 
 Pain, pains ; III. ii. 72. 
 
 Painting; " as a p.," i.e. of the 
 cheeks ; I. i. 26. 
 
 Pales, palings, enclosure ; V. 
 iv. 94- 
 
 Patiging, inflicting great pain ; 
 II. iii. 15. 
 
 Papers, sets down on the list 
 (Campbell, "the papers"; 
 Staunton conj. "he pau- 
 pers"); (vide Note); I. i. 
 80. 
 
 Paragon'd, regarded as a model 
 or pattern ; II. iv. 230. 
 
 Parcels, parts, items; III. ii. 
 
 125- 
 
 149
 
 Glossary 
 
 FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Pared, diminished; III. ii. 159. 
 
 Paris-garden, the celebrated 
 bear-garden on Bankside, 
 Southwark (Folios i, 2, 3, 
 " Parisli Garden") ; V. iv. 2. 
 
 y oris Qar Jen 
 
 From Ag-gas's Ma/> of Londoriy pre- 
 served in Guildhall. 
 
 Part aivay, depart ; III. i. 97. 
 
 Parted, departed ; IV, i. 92 ; 
 shared V. ii. 28. 
 
 Particular, special ground ; 
 III. ii. 189. 
 
 Part of, in part, partly; III. i. 24. 
 
 Peck, pitch, fling (Johnson, 
 ''pick") ; V. iv. 94. 
 
 Pepin, one of the Carlovingian 
 Kings of France, taken as a 
 type of antiquity; I. iii. 10. 
 
 Period ; " his p.," the end he 
 wishes to attain ; I. ii. 209. 
 
 Perk'd up, made smart, dressed 
 up; II. iii. 21. 
 
 Perniciously, hatefully, to the 
 death ; II. i. 50. 
 
 Phoenix; "maiden p.," so called 
 because the bird was sexless 
 and did not reproduce itself 
 in the ordinary course of na- 
 ture, but arose from its 
 ashes ; V. v. 40. 
 
 Pillars, the insignia of cardi- 
 nals; II. iv. (stage direction). 
 
 Pinked, pierced with holes ; V. 
 iv. 50. 
 
 Pitch, height, dignity (War- 
 burton, " pinch " ; Theobald 
 conj. "hatch") ; II. ii. 50. 
 
 Pity, subject for compassion; 
 II. iii. 10. 
 
 Plain-song, simple melody, 
 without variations ; I. iii. 45. 
 
 Play; "make my play"; i.e. 
 '' win what I play for " ; I. 
 iv. 46. 
 
 Pluck off, abate from the rank ; 
 II. iii. 40. 
 
 Porringer, cap shaped like a 
 porringer or porridge bowl ; 
 V. iv. 50. Cp. the accom- 
 panying representation of a 
 Milan bonnet fashionable at 
 this time. 
 
 A Pinked Porri7iger. 
 From a woodcut dated 1546. 
 
 Powers, people of highest 
 power and authority; 
 (Vaughan conj. "peers"); 
 II. iv. 113. 
 
 150
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Poicle's, i.e. St. Paul's Cathe- 
 dral (Folios I, 2, " Powles" ; 
 Folio 3, " Poule's " ; Folio 4, 
 "Pauls"); V. iv. 16. 
 
 Practice, plot, artifice; I. i. 204. 
 
 Prcemunire, a writ issued 
 against any one who " has 
 committed the offence of in- 
 troducing foreign authority 
 into England (probably a 
 corruption of prcemonere) ; 
 III. ii. 340. 
 
 i ;ayers (dissyllabic) ; II. i. yj. 
 
 Preferr'd, promoted ; IV. i. 102. 
 
 Presence, presence-chamber ; 
 
 III. i. 17; King's presence, 
 
 IV. ii. 37. 
 
 Present, present moment; V. 
 iii. 9. 
 
 Present, immediate; I. ii. 211. 
 
 Press, crowd, mob (Folios i, 
 2, " preasse " ; Folio 3, 
 " preass") ; V. iv. 88. 
 
 Prime, first ; III. ii. 162. 
 
 Primer, more urgent, more 
 pressing ; I. ii. 67. 
 
 Primero, an ancient game of 
 cards, fashionable in those 
 days; V. i. 7. 
 
 Private, alone; II. ii. 12. 
 
 Privily, privately; I. i. 183. 
 
 Privity, concurrence, knowl- 
 edge; I. i. 74. 
 
 Proof; " in p.." when brought 
 to the test ; I. i. 197. 
 
 Proper, fine (used ironically) ; 
 I. i. 98. 
 
 Purse; "the p.," i.e. the bag 
 containing the great seal car- 
 ried before him as Lord 
 Chancellor; I. i. 114-115. 
 
 Put off, dismissed, I. ii. 32; 
 
 discard, dismiss, II. iv. 21. 
 Putter on, instigator; I. ii. 24. 
 
 Quality, nature; I. ii. 84. 
 Queen, play the queen; II. iii. 
 
 Raised head, levied an army ; 
 
 II. i. 108. 
 Range, rank; II. iii. 20. 
 Rankness, exuberance; IV. i. 
 
 59. 
 Rate, estimation, scale; III. ii. 
 
 127. 
 Read, learn, take example 
 
 (Collier conj. "tread") ; V. 
 
 V. 37- 
 Receipt, reception ; " such r. of 
 
 learning " = the reception of 
 
 such learning; II. ii, 139. 
 Renching (vide Note) ; I. 1. 
 
 167. 
 Respect; " dear v.," i.e. intense 
 
 regard; V. iii. 119. 
 Rub, obstacle, impediment (a 
 
 term in bowling) ; II. i. 129. 
 Run in; "is r. in," has run 
 
 into, incurred; I, ii. no. 
 
 Saba, the queen of Sheba (the 
 
 Vulgate " Regina Saba"); 
 
 V. v. 23. 
 Sacring bell, the bell rung at 
 
 mass at the elevation of the 
 
 Host (Rowe, Pope, "scaring 
 
 bell"); III. ii. 295. 
 Salute, touch, affect, exhilarate 
 
 (Collier MS., "elate"); II. 
 
 iii. 103. 
 Saving, with all due respect to; 
 
 II. iii. 31. 
 
 151
 
 Glossary 
 
 FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Sazc, " we s." ; i.e. saw each 
 other, met (Folios 3, 4, 
 "saw y'") ; I. i. 2. 
 
 Sectary, dissenter ; V. iii. 70. 
 
 Seeming, show, appearance ; 
 II. iv. 108. 
 
 Sennet, a set of notes on the 
 trumpet or cornet, played at 
 the entry or exit of a proces- 
 sion; II. iv. (stage direc- 
 tion). 
 
 Set, sitting; III. i. 74. 
 
 Set on, set forward ; II. iv. 241. 
 
 Shot; " loose s.," random 
 shooters, skirmishers ; V. iv. 
 
 59. 
 
 Shrewd, ill, ill-natured ; V. iii, 
 
 178. 
 Shrouds, sail-ropes, rigging of 
 
 a ship ; IV. i. 72. 
 Sick, sick with pride ; II. ii. 
 
 83; feeble, III. i. 118. 
 Sicken' d impaired (Theobald 
 
 conj. " slacken' d") ; I. i. 82. 
 Sign, set a stamp on ; II. iv. ic8. 
 Silenced; " the ambassador is 
 
 s.," i.e. " commanded to keep 
 
 his house in silence " (Hall's 
 
 Chronicles) ; I. i. 97. 
 Single, sincere, untainted ; V. 
 
 iii. 38. 
 Slept upon, been blinded to the 
 
 faults of ; II. ii. 43. 
 Slightly, smoothly, rapidly (S. 
 
 Walker conj. "lightly") ; II. 
 
 iv. 112. 
 Solicited, informed, moved, 
 
 stirred; I. ii. 18. 
 Something, somewhat ; I. i. 195. 
 Sometimes, sometime, at one 
 
 time; II. iv. 181. 
 
 Sooth, truth; II. iii. 30. 
 Sought, gave occasion for, in- 
 curred; V. ii. 15. 
 Sound, proclaim; V. ii. 13. 
 Sounder, more loyal ; III. ii. 
 
 274. 
 Spaniard; " the S.," i.e. the 
 
 Spanish court ; II. ii. 90. 
 Spann'd, measured, limited; I. 
 
 i. 223. 
 Sparing, niggardliness ; I. iii. 
 
 60. 
 Spavin, a disease in horses ; I. 
 
 iii. 12. 
 Speak, bear witness, II. iv. 166 ; 
 
 describe. III. i. 125. 
 Spinsters, spinners ; I. ii. S3- 
 Spleen, malice, enmity; I. ii. 
 
 174. 
 Spleeny, hot-headed; III. ii. 99. 
 Spoil, destroy, ruin ; I. ii. 175. 
 Springhalt, a disease in horses; 
 
 I. iii. 13. 
 
 Stand on, rely upon ; V. i. 122. 
 
 State, chair of state, throne ; I. 
 ii. ; canopy, I. iv. (stage di- 
 rection). 
 
 Staying, waiting ; IV. ii. 105. 
 
 Still, continually, constantly ; 
 
 II. ii. 126. 
 
 Stirs against, is active against 
 
 (Collier MS., "strives"); 
 
 V. iii. 39. 
 Stomach, pride, arrogance ; IV. 
 
 ii. 34- 
 Stood to, sided with ; II. iv. 
 
 86. 
 Straiiis, embraces ; IV. i. 46. 
 Strove, striven ; II. iv. 30. 
 Suddenly, immediately; V. iv. 
 
 S3- 
 
 152
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Sufferance, suffering, pain ; II. 
 iii. 15- 
 
 Suggestion, underhanded prac- 
 tice, craft; IV. ii. 35. 
 
 Suggests, incites ; I. i. 164. 
 
 Tainted, disgraced; IV. ii. 14. 
 Take peace, make peace ; II. i. 
 
 85. 
 
 Talker, a mere talker (as op- 
 posed to one who performs 
 his promise) ; II. ii. 80. 
 
 Temperance, moderation, self- 
 restraint ; I. i. 124. 
 
 Tendance, attention ; III. ii. 
 149. 
 
 Tender, have care, regard for ; 
 II. iv. 116. 
 
 That, so that ; I. i. 25. 
 
 This {¥o\\o" his") ; V. iii. 133. 
 
 Throughly, thoroughly; V. i. 
 no. 
 
 Tied, brought into a condition 
 of bondage (Folios i. 2. 3. 
 " Ty'de " ; Folio 4. " Tyd " ; 
 Hanmer, " Tyth'd") ; IV. ii. 
 36. 
 
 Time, present state of things ; 
 V. i. 37. 
 
 To, against ; III. ii. 92. 
 
 To be, as to be; III. i. 86. 
 
 Top-proud, proud in the high- 
 est degree; I. i. 151. 
 
 Touch, hint; V. i. 13. 
 
 Trace, follow (Clark ]\IS.. 
 "grace"); III. ii. 45- 
 
 Tract, course, process ; I. i. 40. 
 
 Trade, beaten track (Warbur- 
 ton, " tread ") ; V. i. 36. 
 
 Trembling; "a tr. contribu- 
 tion," a c. so great that it 
 
 makes the giver tremble (or, 
 [ ?] makes us tremble) ; 
 (Collier MS., -trebling"); 
 I. ii. 95- 
 Trozc, " I t.." I believe (Folios 
 
 I. 2, " trod") ; I. i. 184. 
 Truncheoners, men with clubs 
 
 or truncheons (Folios 3, 4, 
 "Truncheons") ; V. iv. 54. 
 Types, distinguishing marks, 
 signs; I. iii. 31. 
 
 Undertakes, takes charge of; 
 
 II. i. 97. 
 
 Unhappily, unfavorablv ; I. iv. 
 
 89. / 
 UnpartiaL impartial ; II. ii. 
 
 107; 
 
 Unwittinglv, unintentionallv ; 
 
 III. ii. 123. 
 
 Use; " make u.."' take advan- 
 tage of the opportunity ; III. 
 ii. 420. 
 
 Used myself, behaved, con- 
 ducted myself; III. i. 176. 
 
 J'acant, devoid, empty; V. i. 
 
 125. 
 lvalues; " not v.," is not worth; 
 
 I. i. 88. 
 Virtue; " by that v." ; by virtue 
 
 of that office ; V. iii. 50. 
 J'isitation, visit; I. i. 179. 
 Voice, vote, I. ii. 70; rumour, 
 
 general talk; III. ii. 405. 
 Voices ; " free v.," candid 
 
 opinion ; II. ii. 94. 
 Vouch, testimon}', attestation ; 
 
 I. i. 157- 
 
 U^ag, move; I. i. 2)2>. 
 
 153
 
 Glossary 
 
 FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 JVas, " w. too far '' ; i.e. went 
 
 beyond proper bounds; III. 
 
 i. 65. 
 JVay, way of thinking, relig- 
 ious belief; V. i. 28. 
 Ween, deem, imagine ; V. i. 
 
 135- 
 Weigh, value ; V. i. 124. 
 Weigh out, outweigh ; III. i. 88. 
 Well said, well done; I. iv. 30. 
 Whoever, whomsoever; II. i. 
 
 47. 
 
 Will, desire ; I. ii. 13. 
 Will'd, desired; III. i. 18. 
 ]Vit, understanding; III. i. 72. 
 Withal, with; 111. ii. 130. 
 JVitness, testimony; V. i. 136. 
 Work, outwork, fortification ; 
 
 V. iv. 62. 
 Worship, noble rank, nobility ; 
 
 I. i. 39- 
 Wot, know; III. ii. 122. 
 
 You, yourself ; I. iv. 20. 
 
 Waterfront of the Palace at Bridewell. 
 From Aggas's Map of London, preserved in Guildhall.) 
 
 154
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. 
 
 Critical Notes. 
 
 BY ISRAEL GOLLANCZ. 
 
 Prol. 3. 'high and zcorking'; Staunton reads 'and high- 
 working/ 
 
 Prol. 12. 'shilling' ; the usual price for a seat on or next the stage. 
 
 Prol. 16. 'a long motley coat"; the professional garb of a fool 
 or jester. 
 
 Prol. 21. The line is either to be taken as a parenthesis, 'that' 
 referring to 'opinion' (= reputation) ; or as following directly 
 on ' opinion,' i.e. ' the reputation we bring of making what we 
 represent strictly in accordance with truth.' 
 
 I. i. 6. ' Those suns of glory'; i.e. Francis I., King of France, 
 and Henry VIII., King of England ; Folios 3, 4, read, ' sons.' 
 
 I. i. 7, ' the vale of Andren. 'Tzcixt Guynes and Arde. Guynes, 
 a town in Picardy belonging to the English ; Arde, a town in 
 Picardy belonging to the French ; the vale of Andren between 
 the the two towns was the scene of the famous ' Field of the 
 Cloth of Gold.' Cp. illustration at end of Notes. 
 
 I. i. 63. Capell's reading of Folio i, 'but spider-like. Out of his 
 selfe-draiving web, O gives us note.' Further, Capell and Rowe 
 substituted ' self -drawn ' for ' self -drawing.' 
 
 I. i. 79, 80. ' The honourable . . . out, . . . him in he 
 papers'; Folios i, 2, read 'The Councell, out . . . him in, he 
 papers,' etc. Pope's explanation of these awkward lines is prob- 
 ably correct : — " His own letter, by his own single authority, and 
 without the concurrence of the council, must fetch him in whom 
 he papers" (i.e. registers on the paper). Various emendations 
 have been proposed; e.g. 'the papers'; 'he paupers.' 
 
 I. i. 86, 'minister communication' ; Collier MS., 'the consum- 
 mation ' ; but the phrase is Holinshed's. 
 
 I. i. 90. ' the hideous storm ' ; " On Mondaie, the eighteenth of 
 June, was such an hideous storme of wind and weather, that 
 manie coniectured it did prognosticate trouble and hatred shortlie 
 after to follow betweene princes" (Holinshed). 
 
 I. i. 115. The Duke of Buckingham's surveyor was his cousin, 
 Charles Knevet, or Knyvet, grandson of Humphrey Stafford, 
 First Duke of Buckingham. 
 
 ISS
 
 Notes FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 I. i. 120. ' vcnotn-v.ionthed' ; Pope's reading; Folios read, ' ven- 
 on'd-month'd.' 
 
 1. i. 152, ' Whom from the floiv of gall I name not,' etc. ; i.e. 
 * whom I mention, not because I am still angry,' ; etc. 
 
 I. i. 167. ' renching' ; the Camb. ed. 'rinsing,' Pope's unneces- 
 sary emendation of the Folio reading ' zvrenching' which is evi- 
 dently an error for 'renching' a provincial English cognate of 
 ' rinse,' both words being ultimately derived from the same Scan- 
 dinavian original, rinse, through the medium of French, rench, a 
 direct borrowing (Collier ]\IS., ' zvrensing') . 
 
 I. i. 172. ' connt-cardinar ; Pope proposed 'court-cardinal.' 
 
 I. i. 176. ' Charles the Emperor,' viz., Charles V., Emperor of 
 Germany; Katharine was his mother's sister. 
 
 I. i. 200. 'Hereford' ; Capell's reading; Folios, 'Hertford.' 
 
 I. i. 204, 206. The meaning of these unsatisfactory lines seems 
 to be, as Johnson explained, " I am sorry to be present, and an 
 eye-witness of 5'our loss of liberty." 
 
 IT 1. 211. 'Abergavenny ' ; Folios, 'Aburgany/ the usual pro- 
 nunciation of the name. 
 
 I. i. 217. ' Montaciite' \ Folios read, ' Monntacute' \ Rowe reads. 
 'Montague.' 
 
 I. i. 219. 'chancellor' \ Theobald's correction; Folios i, 2 read, 
 ' Councellour.' 
 
 I. i. 221. 'Nicholas Hopkins' ', Theobald's correction (from Hol- 
 inshed) of Folios, ' MichaeW (probablv due to printer's confusion 
 oi' Nich' \w\ih' Mich'). 
 
 I. ii. 67. 'business' •,W2irhvirioris emendation of Folios, 'baseness.' 
 
 I. ii. 147. ' Henton' ; i.e. Nicholas Hopkins, "a monk of an 
 house of the Chartreux Order beside Bristow, called Henton " 
 (Holinshed) ; there is no need to emend the text. 
 
 I. ii. 164. 'confession's seal'] Theobald's emendation (following 
 Holinshed) of Folios, 'commissions.' 
 
 I. ii. 170. ' To gain'', the reading of Folio 4; Folios i, 2. 3 read. 
 'To': Collier MS. reads, 'To get'; Grant White, ' To win.' 
 
 I. ii. 179. 'for him'; Capell's emendation of 'For this' of the 
 Folios; Collier MS. reads, 'From this': etc. 
 
 I. ii. 190. ' Biilmer'; Folios read, 'Blunter' : Pope, ' Blomer.' 
 
 I. iii. 13. ' Or springhalt' : Verplanck's (Collier conj.) emenda- 
 tion of Folios, 'A springhalt' : Pope, 'And springhalt.' 
 
 I. iii. 34. 'zuear': the reading of Folios 2, 3, 4; Folio i reads, 
 'zi'ce': Anon. conj.. ' oui.' 
 
 I. iii. 59. 'has zvherezvithal' ; Folios, ' ha's' probably an error 
 for "has' i.e. '(he) has.' 
 
 156
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. 
 
 Notes 
 
 I. iv. ' York Place.' Cp. the annexed illustration. 
 
 From Anthony van den Wyngrerde's j5/>(/'"j--ri'^ Fiew of London in 1543, now 
 in the Sutherland collection, Bodleian Library, Uxtord. 
 
 I. iv. 6. 'As, Hi'st, good company' ; so Folios i, 2, 3; Folio 4 
 reads, 'As, first good company'; Theobald, 'as, first-good com- 
 pany ' ; Halliwell, ' as far as good company,' etc. 
 
 II. i. 29. ' was either pitied in him or forgotten ' , i.e. " either 
 produced no effect, or only ineffectual pity" (Malone). 
 
 II. i. 54. 'Sir William Sands'; Theobald's emendation (from 
 Holinshed) of Folio i, ' Sir Walter Sands' ; Folios 2, 3, 4, ' Walter 
 Sands.' 
 
 II. i. 86. ' mark ' ; Warburton's emendation of Folios, ' make.' 
 II. i. 105, 'I now seal it,' i.e. my truth, — with blood. 
 II. ii. 85. 'one have-at-him' \ Folio i, 'one; haiie at him'; 
 Folios 2, 3, 4, ' one heave at him ' ; Knight, ' one ; — have at him.' 
 
 II. ii. 94. 'Have their free voices' i.e. 'have liberty to express 
 their opinions freely' (Grant White, 'Gave' for 'Have.') 
 
 II. iii. 14. ' that quarrel, fortune, do ' ; Folio i reads, * that quar- 
 rell. Fortune, do'; Collier MS., 'that cruel fortune do'; Keight- 
 Icy, 'that quarrel, by fortune, do'; Lettsom conj. 'that fortunes 
 quarrel do ' ; Hanmer, ' that quarr'ler, fortune do,' etc. 
 
 II. iii. 46. ' little England ' ; Steevens pointed out that Pembroke- 
 shire was known as ' little England ' ; and as Anne Bullen was 
 about to be made Marchioness of Pembroke, there may be a 
 special point in the phrase. 
 
 II. iii. 92. 'the mud in Egypt,' i.e. 'the land 
 fertilized by the Nile's overflow.' 
 
 II. iii. 97-8. ' Honour's train is longer than his 
 oreskirt:' Cp. the accompanying illustration 
 
 157^
 
 Notes 
 
 FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 from a series of engravings published at Nancy, 1608, which 
 depicts Duke Henry II. and his attendant the Duke of Mantua 
 at the funeral of Charles III., Duke of Lorraine. 
 
 11. iv. 62. ' That longer you desire the court,' i.e. desire the court 
 to delay its proceedings; Folio 4, 'defer'; Keightley conj. 'court, 
 delay'd.' 
 
 II. iv. 172. ' The Bishop of Bayonne ' ; strictly it should be ' the 
 Bishop of Tarbes,' but the mistake was Holinshed's. 
 
 II. iv. 174. ' The Duke of Orleans ' was the second son of Fran- 
 cis I., King of France. 
 
 II. iv. 182. 'the bosom of v.iy conscience ' ; Holinshed's use of 
 'secret bottom of my conscience' justified Theobald's emendation 
 of ' bosom ' to ' bottom.' 
 
 II. iv. 199. 'throe'; Pope's emendation Folios, ' fhrozv.' 
 
 II. iv. 204. 'yet not,' i.e. not 3'et. 
 
 II. iv. 225. ' drive ' ; Pope's emendation of Folios, ' drives.' 
 
 HI. i. 38. ' and that zvay I am wife in ' ; i.e. concerning my con- 
 duct as a wife. (Rowe proposed ' -wise ' for ' wife.') 
 
 HI. i, 40. ' Tanta est erga te mentis integritas, regina serenis- 
 sima'; 'So great is our integrity of purpose towards thee, most 
 serene princess.' 
 
 HI. ii. 64. 'He is returned in his opinions,' i.e. having sent in 
 advance the opinions he has gathered. 
 
 HI. ii. 66. 'Together with all famous colleges'; Rowe reads, 
 ' Gafher'd from all the famous colleges.' 
 
 HI. ii. 96. '/ must snuff it.' Cp. the accompanying representa- 
 tion of a pair of snuffers dating from the year 15.78. 
 
 HI. ii. 172. ' been mine so' ; so Folio i ; Folios 2, 3, 4 read, 
 ' been so.' 
 
 HI. ii. 192. 'that am, have, and will be,' etc.; the reading of the 
 
 158
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Notes 
 
 Folios of these lines, which have taxed tl:c ingenuity of scholars ; 
 some two dozen various emendations are recorded in the Cam- 
 bridge Shakespeare, but probably the text as we have it represents 
 the author's v/ords ; the meaning of the passage is clear, and the 
 difficulty is due to the change in construction. Instead of '' that 
 am, have, and zuill be,' it has been.proposed to read, ' tha-t am your 
 slave, and zvill be'; this would get rid of the awkward ' have':= 
 ' have been,' but probably the line is correct as it stands. 
 
 III. ii. 2/2. 'that . . . dare mate'; i.e. I that . . . dare 
 mate. 
 
 III. ii. 282. 'And dare us with his cap like larks'; "One of the 
 methods of daring larks was by small mirrors fastened on scarlet 
 cloth, which engaged the attention of these birds while the fowler 
 drev/ his net over them " (Steevens). 
 
 III. ii. 321. 'Cassado ' ; so Folios, following Hall and Holinshed ; 
 Roue reads the correct form, ' Cassalis.' 
 
 III. ii. 325. 'your holy hat to be stanip'd on the king's coin. Cp. 
 the accompanying facsimile of a 
 groat minted at Wolsey's city 
 of York. 
 
 III. ii. 343. ' Chattels' ; Theo- 
 bald's emendation of Folios, 
 ' Castles.' 
 
 IV. ii. 58-59. ' Those tzvins of 
 learning . . . Ipsivich and 
 
 O.vford'; Wolsey's College, Ipswich, of which the gateway still 
 remains, was founded by Wolsey. Christ Church, Oxford, was 
 founded by Wolsey : it was first called Cardinal College. 
 
 IV. ii. 60. 'the good tJiat did it'; Pope reads, 'the good he did 
 it'; Collier MS., 'the good man did it'; Staunton, 'the good that 
 rear'd it' etc. The words, if not corrupt, must mean the ' good 
 man (or the goodness) that caused it, i.e founded it.' 
 
 V. i. 34. ' is ' ; Theobald, ' he 's.' 
 
 V. i. 106, 'you a brother of us' i.e. being a Privy Councillor. 
 
 V. iii. 11-12. 'frail and capable of our flesh'; Keightley, 'cul- 
 pable and frail/ etc. ; Pope, ' and capable Of frailty ' ; Malone, 
 'incapable; Of our flesh'; Mason conj. 'and culpable: Of our 
 flesh/ etc. 
 
 V. iii. 22. 'pace 'em not in their Jiands/ ; i.e. 'leading them by 
 the bridle.' 
 
 V. iii. 30. ■* The Upper Germany ' ; alluding to Thomas Munzer's 
 insurrection in Saxony (1521-1522), or to the Anabaptist rising in 
 
 159
 
 The Palace Yard. 
 From Anthony van den Wyngrerde's 
 Map of London (1543), in the Bod- 
 leian Library. 
 
 Notes FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 V A. 
 
 Minister (1535) ; the passage 
 is from Foxe. 
 
 V. iii. 66. ' Lay' i.e. ' though 
 ye lay.' 
 
 V. iii. 85. ' This is too much ' ; 
 the FoHos give the speech to 
 the Chamberlain, evidently due 
 to confusion of ' Cham.' and 
 ' Chan.' 
 
 V. iii, 125. ' bare ' ; Malone's 
 emendation of Folios, ' hase.' 
 
 V. iii. 165. ' You 'Id spare your spoons/ i.e. you wish to 
 save your spoons ! alluding to the old custom of giving spoons as 
 christening presents. 
 V. iv. ' The Palace Yard.' Cp. illustration. 
 V. iv. 27. 'And that I would not for a cow, God save her!' a 
 proverbial expression still used in the South of England. 
 
 V. iv. 34. 'some strange Indian.' Exhibitions of Indians, alive 
 or embalmed, were by no means in- 
 frequent in the London of Shake- 
 speare's day. Cp. Tempest, II. ii. 34. 
 The annexed illustration represents 
 one of these ' strange kind of people ' 
 (with whose transportation Sir Martin 
 Frobisher was specially concerned), 
 and is copied from a pen-and-ink draw- 
 ing of about 1590, the original of which 
 is preserved in a MS. in the Library of 
 Canterbury Cathedral. 
 
 V. iv. 65, 66. 'the tribulation of 
 Tozuerhill, or the limbs of Limehouse.' 
 There is no evidence for finding in 
 these words the names of Puritan con- 
 gregations, as commentators have sup- 
 posed ; the alternative phrases are suffi- 
 ciently expressive without any such 
 supposition, and were perhaps coined 
 for the occasion ; they are not found 
 elsewhere. 
 
 good brethren'; Thirlby's conjecture. 
 Folios read, ' and you good brethren.' 
 he has ; Folios, ' 'Has.' 
 
 160 
 
 ' Sotne Strange Indian? 
 
 V. V, 71. 'And your 
 adopted by Theobald ; 
 V. V. y6. ' has' ; i.e.
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIIL 
 
 Notes
 
 FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Explanatory Notes. 
 
 The Explanatory Notes in this edition have been specially selected and 
 adapted, with emendations after the latest and best authorities, from the 
 most eminent Shakespearian scholars and commentators, incldding Johnson, 
 Malone, Steevens, Singer, Dyce, Hudson, \\'hite, Furness, Dowden, and 
 others. This method, here introduced for the first time, provides the best 
 annotation of Shakespeare ever embraced in a single edition. 
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 
 18-22. To rank . . . friend: — "This is not the only pas- 
 sage," saA^s Johnson, " in which Shakespeare has discovered his 
 conviction of the impropriety of battles represented on the stage. 
 He knew that five or six men, with swords, gave a very unsatis- 
 factory idea of an army ; and therefore, without much care to ex- 
 cuse his former practice, he allows that a theatrical fight would 
 destroy all opinion of truth, and leave him never an understanding 
 :friend." The Prologue, partly on the strength of this passage, has 
 been by some ascribed to Ben Jonson, It certainly accords well 
 with what he says in the prologue to Every Man in his Humour: — 
 
 " Though need make many poets, and some such 
 As art and nature have not better'd much; 
 Yet ours for want hath not so lov'd the stage, 
 As he dare serve the ill customs of the age ; 
 To make a child, now swaddled, to proceed 
 Man, and then shoot up, in one beard and weed, 
 Past threescore years; or, with three rusty swords, 
 And help of some few foot and half-foot words, 
 Fight over York and Lancaster's long jars, 
 And in the tyring-house bring wounds to scars." 
 
 ACT FIRST. 
 Scene I. 
 
 \Enter the Duke of Norfolk, etc.] This Thomas Howard, 
 Duke of Norfolk, is the same person who figures as Earl of 
 
 162
 
 LIFE or KING HENRY VIII. Notes 
 
 Surrey in Richard III. His father's rank and titles, having 
 been lost by the part he took with Richard, were restored to 
 him by Henry VHI. in 1514, soon after his great victory over 
 ihe Scots at Flodden. His wife was Anne, third daughter of 
 Edward IV., and so, of course, aunt to the King. He died in 
 1525, and was succeeded by his son Thomas, Earl of Surrey. 
 The Poet, however, continues them as duke and earl to the end of 
 the play; at least he does not distinguish between them and their 
 successors. Edward Stafford, the Buckingham of this play, was 
 son to Henry, the Buckingham of Richard III. The father's titles 
 and estates, having been declared forfeit and confiscate by Richard, 
 were restored to the son by Henry VH. in the first year of his 
 reign, 1485. In descent, in wealth, and in personal gifts, the latter 
 was the most illustrious nobleman in the court of Henry VIII. 
 In the record of his arraignment and trial he is termed, says 
 Holinshed, " the floure and mirror of all courtesie." His oldest 
 daughter, Elizabeth, was married to the Earl of Surrey ; Alary, 
 his youngest, to George Neville, Lord Abergavenny. 
 
 48. ''Element here," says Hudson, "is commonly explained to 
 mean the Urst principles or rudiments of knowledge. Is it not 
 rather used in the same sense as when we say of any one, that 
 he is out of h\?, element^ From Wolsey's calling, they would no 
 more think he could be at home in such matters, than a fish could 
 swim in the air, or a bird fly in the water." Schmidt's explanation 
 substantially agrees with this. 
 
 84. 85. Have broke their hacks, etc. : — " In the interview at An- 
 dren," says Lingard, " not only the two kings, but also their at- 
 tendants, sought to surpass each other in the magnificence of their 
 dress, and the display of theip riches. Of the French nobility it 
 was said that many carried their whole estates on their hacks ; 
 among the English the Duke of Buckingham ventured to express 
 his marked disapprobation of a visit which had led to so much 
 useless expense." The passage might be cited as going to show 
 that the Poet's reading in English history was not confined, as 
 some would have us believe, to Holinshed. 
 
 85-87. What did this vanity . . . mia' :— That is, serve for 
 the reporting or proclaiming of a paltry, worthless result ; some- 
 what like the homely phrase, " Great cry, and little wool." 
 
 116. Where's his examination f — Where is he to be examined? 
 The cardinal, says Holinshed, " boiling in hatred against the 
 Duke of Buckingham, and thirsting for his blood, devised to make 
 Charles Knevet, that had beene the dukes surveior, an instrument 
 
 163
 
 Notes FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 to bring the duke to destruction. This Knevet, being had in ex- 
 amination before the cardinall, disclosed all the dukes life. And 
 first he uttered, that the duke was accustomed by waie of talke 
 to saie how he meant so to use the matter, that he would atteine 
 to the crowne, if King Henrie chanced to die without issue. The 
 cardinall procured Knevet, with manie great promises, that he 
 should laie these things to the dukes charge with more, if he knew 
 it, when time required." 
 
 120. There was a tradition that Wolsey was the son of a butcher. 
 But his father, as has been ascertained from his will, was a bur- 
 gess of considerable wealth, having " lands and tenements in Ips- 
 wich, and free and bond lands in Stoke " ; which, at that time, 
 would hardly consist with such a trade. Holinshed, however, 
 says, " This Thomas Wolsie was a poore man's sonne of Ipswich, 
 and there born, and, being but a child, verie apt to be learned : by 
 his parents he was conveied to the universitie of Oxenford, where 
 he shortlie prospered so in learning, as he was made bachellor of 
 art when he passed not fifteen years of age. and was called most 
 commonlie thorough the universitie the boie bachellor." 
 
 122, 123. A beggar's hook, etc. : — It was natural at that time, that 
 Buckingham, though himself a man of large and liberal attain- 
 ments, should speak with disdain of learned poverty in comparison 
 of noble blood. Nor was his pride of birth so bad in itself as 
 Wolsey's pride of self-made greatness. 
 
 195. Something mistaken : — Not that he had made a mistake, but 
 that others were mistaken regarding him. 
 
 207. You shall to the Tower: — The arrest of Buckingham took 
 place April 16, 1521. The matter is thus related by Holinshed: 
 " The cardinall, having taken the examination of Knevet, went 
 unto the King, and declared unto him, that his person was in 
 danger by such traitorous purpose as the Duke of Buckingham 
 had conceived in his heart, and shewed how that now there were 
 manifest tokens of his wicked pretense ; wherefore he exhorted 
 the King to provide for his owne suertie with speed. The King 
 hearing the accusation, inforced to the uttermost by the cardinall, 
 made this answer : If the duke have deserved to be punished, let 
 him have according to his deserts. The duke hereupon was sent 
 for up to London, and at his comming thither was streightwaies 
 attached, and brought to the Tower." 
 
 217. Lord Montacute : — This was Henry Pole, grandson to 
 George Duke of Clarence, and eldest brother to Cardinal Pole. 
 He had married Lord Abergavenny's daughter. Though restored 
 
 164
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Notes 
 
 to favour at this juncture, he was executed for another alleged 
 treason in this reign. 
 
 226. this instant cloud puts on : — This instant cloud assumes ; 
 " whose figure " referring to " Buckingham," not to " shadow." 
 According to White, " the speaker says that his life is cut short 
 already, and that what they see is but the shadow of the real 
 Buckingham, whose figure is assumed by the instant [the present, 
 the passing] cloud which darkens the sun of his prosperity. John- 
 son first proposed to read, ' this instant cloud puts out,' and in so 
 doing diverted the minds of many readers (including editors and 
 commentators) from the real meaning of the passage, and created 
 an obscurity for them which otherwise might not have existed. 
 Singer, Verplanck. and Hudson adopt Johnson's reading. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 151-171. The following from the Chronicles will serve as an 
 instance how minutely the Poet adheres to truth in this play: 
 " The same duke, the tenth of Maie, 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, de- 
 manded of the said Charles Knevet esquier what was the talke 
 amongest the Londoners concerning the Kings journie beyond the 
 seas. And the said Charles told him that manie stood in doubt of 
 that journie, 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 a certeine holie 
 moonke. For there is, saith he, a Chartreux moonke, that diverse 
 times hath sent to me willing me to send unto him my chancellor. 
 And I did send unto him John de la Court my chapleine, unto 
 whome he would not declare anie thing, till de la Court had 
 sworne to keep all things secret, and to tell no creature living 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 indeavour myselfe to purchase 
 the good wils of the communaltie ; for I the same duke and my 
 bloud should prosper, and save the rule of the realme of England." 
 
 171-176. The honourable part which Katharine is made to act in 
 this scene is unwarranted by history, save that, such was the rever- 
 ence inspired by her virtue and sagacity, she served generally as 
 a check both upon the despotic temper of her husband, and the all- 
 grasping rapacity of his minister ; as appears by the King's be- 
 
 165
 
 Notes FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 coming such an inexpressible compound of cruelty, meanness, and 
 lust, when her influence was withdrawn. 
 
 193-199- If ... I for this, etc. : — The Chronicles tell us that 
 " the same duke, on the fourth of November, in the eleventh yere 
 of the Kings reigne, at east Greenwich in the countie of Kent, said 
 unto one Charles Knevet, esquier, after that the King had re- 
 prooved the duke for reteining William Bulmer knight in his serv- 
 ice, that if he had perceived that he should have been committed 
 to the Tower, hee would have so wrought, that the principall 
 dooers therein should not have had cause of great rejoising. For 
 he would have plaied the part which his father intended to have 
 put in practise against King Richard the Third at Salisburie, who 
 made earnest, sute to have come unto the presence of the same 
 King Richard ; which sute if he might have obteined, he, having a 
 knife secretlie about him, would have thrust it into the bodie of 
 King Richard, as he had made semblance to kneele downe before 
 him." 
 
 Scene HI. 
 
 [Enter the Lord Chamberlain and Lord Sands.] The dramatist 
 has placed this Scene in 1521. Charles Somerset, Earl of 
 Worcester, was then lord chamberlain, and continued in the 
 office until his death, in 1526. But Cavendish, from whom this 
 was originally taken, places this event at a later period, when 
 Lord Sands himself was chamberlain. Sir William Sands, of the 
 Vine, near Basingstoke, Hants, was created a peer in 1527. He 
 succeeded the Earl of Worcester as chamberlain. 
 
 25. fool and feather: — The text may receive illustration from 
 Nash's Life of Jacke Wilton, 1594: " At that time I was no com- 
 mon squire, no undertrodden torchbearer : / had my feafJier in my 
 cap as big as a Hag in the foretop ; my French doublet gelte in the 
 belly; a paire of side-paned hose, that hung down like two scales 
 filled with Holland cheeses ; my long stock that sate close to my 
 dock ; my rapier pendant, like a round sticke, my blacke cloake of 
 cloth, overspreading my backe lyke a thornbacke or an elephant's 
 eare ; and, in consummation of my curiositie, my handes without 
 gloves, all a mode French^ The feathers which were formerly 
 worn by fools in their caps are alluded to in the ballad of NeiK.'s 
 and no News: "And feathers wagging in a fool's cap." 
 
 63. My barge stays: — Is waiting to take us to York-place (from 
 the King's palace at Bridewell). 
 
 \ 166
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Notes 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 64. [Enter the King and others, as jnasquers.] This visit of the 
 King in disguise is historical, and was quite in the fashion of the 
 time. The occurrences at the real masquing, according to 
 Cavendish, Wolsey's biographer, were much as they are here 
 represented. But it was not on this occasion that Henry first 
 danced with Anne Bullen, as will appear from the next note. 
 
 76, [Dance.] This incident of the King's dancing with Anne 
 Bullen did not occur durmg this banquet, but is judiciously intro- 
 duced here from another occasion, which was a grand entertain- 
 ment given by the King at Greenwich, May 5, 1527, to the French 
 ambassadors who had come to negotiate a marriage between their 
 king, Francis L, or his son, the Duke of Orleans, and the Princess 
 Mary. First a grand tournament was held, and lances broken; 
 then came a course of songs and dances. About midnight, the 
 King, the ambassadors, and six others withdrew, disguised them- 
 selves as Venetian noblemen, returned, and took cut ladies to 
 dance, the King having Anne Bullen for his partner. As Holin- 
 shed says nothing about this matter, the Poet probably derived it 
 from Hall or Cavendish, who give detailed accounts of it. 
 
 96. And not to kiss you : — The allusions to the custom here put 
 in practice are countless in our old literature. A kiss was the 
 established reward of the lady's partner, which she could not deny, 
 or he, without an open slight, neglect to take. 
 
 102. In the next chamber: — According to Cavendish, the King, 
 on discovering himself, being desired by Wolsey to take his place 
 under the state or seat of honour, said " that he would go first 
 and shift his apparel," and so departed, and went straight into my 
 lord's.bedchamber. 
 
 ACT SECOND. 
 Scene I. 
 
 40 et seq. " There was great enmitie," says Holinshed, " be- 
 twixt the cardinall and the earle, for that on a time, when the car- 
 dinall tooke upon him to checke the earle, he had like to have 
 thrust his dagger into the cardinall. At length there was occasion 
 offered him to compasse his purpose, by the Earle of Kildare his 
 comming out of Ireland. The earle, being unmarried, was desir- 
 
 167
 
 Notes FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 ous to have an English woman to wife ; and for that he was a suter 
 to a widow contrairie to the cardinals mind, he accused him to 
 the King, that he had not borne himselfe uprightlie in his office 
 in Ireland. Such accusations were framed against him, that he 
 was committed to prison, and then by the cardinals good prefer- 
 ment the Earle of Surrie was sent into Ireland as the Kings depu- 
 tie, there to remaine rather as an exile than as lieutenant, as he 
 himself well perceived." 
 
 103. poor Edzi'ard Bohun : — The name of the Duke of Bucking- 
 ham most generally known was Stafford ; it is said that he affected 
 the surname of Bohun, because he was lord high constable of 
 England by inheritance of tenure from the Bohuns. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 12. [Etiter . . . Suffolk,] This Charles Brandon, Duke of 
 Suffolk, was son of Sir William Brandon, slain by Richard at 
 the battle of Bosworth. He was created Duke of Suffolk in Feb- 
 ruary, 1514, and in March, 1515, was married to ISIary, youngest 
 sister of the King, and widow of Louis XII. of France. Suffolk 
 was one of the leading noblemen of his time, both in the cabinet 
 and the field. 
 
 40-42. It was the main end or object of Wolsey to bring about 
 a marriage between Henry and the French king's sister, the 
 Duchess of Alencjon. 
 
 6^. This stage direction of the old copy — Exit Lord Chamher- 
 lain; and the King draws the curtain and sits reading pensively — 
 is singular. It was calculated for the state of the theatre in 
 Shakespeare's time. When a person was to be discovered in a 
 different apartment from that in which the original speakers in the 
 scene are exhibited, the artless mode of that time was, to place 
 such person in the back part of the stage, behind the curtains 
 which were occasionally suspended across it. These the person 
 v.'ho was to be discovered drew back just at the proper time. 
 
 130. he ran mad and died : — " Aboute this time," says Holin- 
 shed, " the King received into favour Doctor Stephen Gardiner, 
 whose service he used in matters of great secrecie and weight, 
 admitting him in the room of Doctor Pace, the which being con- 
 tinually abrode in ambassades, and the same oftentymes not much 
 necessarie. by the Cardinalles appointment, at length he tOKe sucn 
 greefe therewith, that he fell out of his right wittes." 
 
 168
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Notes 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 78. a gem : — Probably the carbancle, which was supposed by 
 our ancestors to have intrinsic light, and to shine in the dark. 
 Any other gem may reflect light, but cannot give it. Thus in a 
 palace described in Ainadis de Gaulc, 1619: "In the roofe of a 
 chamber hung two lampes of gold, at the bottomes whereof were 
 enchafed two carbuncles, which gave so bright a splendour round 
 about the roome, that there was no neede of any other light." 
 
 97, 98. honour's train, etc. : — " Meaning, of course," says Hud- 
 son, " that still ampler honours are forthcoming to her ; or that 
 the banquet will outsweeten the foretaste." 
 
 103. salute my blood : — Compare with Shakespeare's similar 
 phrase in Sonnets, CXXI., 5, 6: — 
 
 " For why should others' false adulterate eyes 
 Give salutation to my sportive blood?" 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 [Canferbtiry.] At this time, June 21, 1529, the Archbishop of 
 Canterbury was William Warham, who died in August, 1532, 
 and was succeeded by Cranmer the following March. This long 
 stage direction from the Folio, is in most of its particulars ac- 
 cording to the actual event. The " two priests, bearing each a 
 silver cross," and the " two gentlemen bearing two great silver 
 pillars," were parts of Wolsey's ofificial pomp and circumstance ; 
 the one being symbolic of his office as Archbishop of York, the 
 other of his authority as Cardinal Legate. 
 
 12. [The Queen . . . goes about the eourt, etc.] " Because," 
 says Cavendish, " she could not come directly to the King for the 
 distance which severed them, she took pain to go about unto the 
 King, kneeling down at his feet." 
 
 69. To you I speak : — The acting of j\Irs. Siddons has been 
 much celebrated as yielding an apt and pregnant commentary on 
 this passage. The effect, it would seem, must have been fine ; but 
 perhaps the thing* savours overmuch of forcing the Poet to ex- 
 press another's thoughts. It is thus described by Mr. Terry : 
 " Vexed to the uttermost by the artifices with which her ruin is 
 prosecuted, and touched with indignation at the meanness and in- 
 justice of the proceeding, she interrupts Campeius, with the inten- 
 tion of accusing Wolsey, and of refusing him for her judge. 
 
 169
 
 Notes FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Campeius, who had been urging immediate trial, imagines it ad- 
 dressed to him, and comes forward as if to answer. Here Mrs. 
 vSiddons exhibited one of those unequalled pieces of acting, by 
 which she assists the barrenness of the text, and fills up the mean- 
 ing of the scene. Those who have seen it will never forget it ; 
 but to those who have not, we feel it impossible to describe the 
 majestic self-correction of the petulance and vexation which, in 
 her perturbed state of mind, she feels at the misapprehension of 
 Campeius, and the intelligent expression of countenance and 
 gracious dignity of gesture, with which she intimates to him his 
 mistake. And no language can convey a picture of her immediate 
 reassumption of the fulness of majesty, when she turns round 
 to Wolsey, and exclaims, 'To you I speak!' Her form seemed 
 to expand, and her eyes to burn beyond human." 
 
 116,117. Yon tender more, etc.: — So in Holinshed: "He was 
 the hautiest man in all his proceedings alive, having more respect 
 to the honour of his person, than he had to his spirituall profes- 
 sion, wherein should be shewed all meeknes, humilitie, and 
 charitie." 
 
 166. / speak my good lord eardiual to tJiis point: — The King, 
 having first addressed Wolse3% breaks off; and declares upon his • 
 honour to the whole court, that he speaks the cardinal's senti- 
 ments upon the point in question. 
 
 239. Prithee, return : — The King, be it observed, is here merely 
 thinking aloud. Cranmer was at that time absent on a foreign 
 embassy. 
 
 ACT THIRD. 
 Scene I. 
 
 22, 2T,. Being churchmen they should be virtuous, and every 
 business they undertake as righteous as their sacred office : but all 
 hoods make not monks. In allusion to the Latin proverb, Cucul- 
 lus non facit monachum, to which Chaucer also alludes: — 
 
 " Habife ne maketh mouke ne frere; 
 But a clene life and devotion, 
 Maketh gode men of religion." 
 
 51-53. The construction is. " I am sorry my integrity, and ser- 
 vice to his majesty and you, should breed so deep suspicion." Ed- 
 wards made a transposition of the lines, thus : — 
 
 170
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Notes 
 
 "I am. sorry my integrity should breed 
 So deep suspicion, where all faith was meant, 
 And service to his majesty and you." 
 
 Hudson (Harvard ed.) so transposes them. White leaves them, 
 in the original order, with the line. And service to his majesty 
 and you in parenthesis, 
 
 102. The more shame for yc : — If I mistake you, it is by your 
 fault, not mine ; for I thought you good. 
 
 164. grozu as terrible as storms : — It was one of the charges 
 brought against Lord Essex, that, in a letter written during his 
 retirement in 1598 to the lord keeper, he had said, " There is no 
 tempest to the passionate indignation of a prince." 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 42. married: — The date commonly assigned for the marriage of 
 Henry and Anne is November 14, 1532; at which time they set 
 sail together from Calais, the King having been on a visit to his 
 royal brother of France. Lingard, following Godwin, Stowe, and 
 Cranmer, says they were privately married the 25th of January, 
 1533, and that the former date was assigned in order to afford the 
 proper space between their marriage and the birth of Eliza- 
 beth, which latter event took place the 7th of September fol- 
 lowing. The marriage was to have been kept secret till May; 
 but the circumstances forced a public acknowledgment of it early 
 in April. 
 
 120-128. This incident, in its application to Wolsey, is a fiction: 
 he made no such mistake ; but another person having once done 
 so, he took occasion thereby to ruin him. The Poet was judicious 
 in making Wolsey's fall turn upon a mistake which in his hands 
 had proved so fatal to another. The story is told by Holinshed 
 of Thomas Ruthall, Bishop of Durham, who was accounted the 
 richest subject in the realm ; and who, having by the King's order 
 written a book setting forth the whole estate of the kingdom, had 
 it bound up in the same style as one before written, setting forth 
 his own private affairs. At the proper time the King sent Wolsey 
 to get the book, and the bishop gave him the wrong one. " The 
 cardinall, having the booke, went foorthwith to the King, deliv- 
 ered it into his hands, and breefelie informed him of the contents 
 thereof; putting further into his head, that if at anie time he were 
 destitute of a masse of monie, he should not need to seeke further 
 
 171
 
 Notes FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 than to the cofers of the bishop. Of all which when the bishop 
 had intelligence, he was stricken with such greefe, that he shortlie 
 ended his life in the yeare 1523." 
 
 140. Spiritual leisure is leisure for spiritual exercises. The 
 King seems biting him with irony; as if his leisure were so filled 
 up Avith spiritual concerns that he could not spare any of it for 
 worldly affairs. 
 
 141. Keep your earthly audit " means, apparently," says Hud- 
 son, " look after your temporal interests, or audit, that is verify, 
 your secular accounts." 
 
 184-190. The interpretation seems to be: "Besides your bond 
 of duty as a loyal and obedient servant, you owe a particular de- 
 votion to me as your special benefactor." 
 
 231. my Lord of Winchester's : — Shakespeare forgot that Wolsey 
 was himself bishop of Winchester, having succeeded Bishop Fox 
 in 1528, holding the see in commendam. Esher was one of the 
 episcopal palaces belonging to that see. 
 
 256. Buckingham, my father-in-law: — The Poet continues the 
 same persons Duke of Norfolk and Earl of Surrey through the 
 play. Here the earl is the same who had married Buckingham's 
 daughter, and had been shifted off out of the way, when that 
 great nobleman was to be struck at. In fact, however, he who, 
 at the beginning of the play, 1521, was earl, became duke in 1525. 
 At the time of this scene the Earl of Surrey was the much-accom- 
 plished Henry Howard, son of the former, born in 1520; a man of 
 fine genius and heroic spirit, afterwards distinguished alike in 
 poetry and in arms, and who, on the mere strength of royal sus- 
 picion, was sent to the block in 1547. 
 
 314. Ego et Rex mens: — These several charges are taken al- 
 most literally from Holinshed, where the second item reads thus : 
 " In all writings which he wrote to Rome, or anie other forren 
 prince, he wrote Ego et rex meus, I and my king; as who would 
 sale that the King were his servant." In the Latin idiom, how- 
 ever, such was the order prescribed by modesty itself. And, in 
 fact, the charge against Wolsey, as given from the records by 
 Lord Herbert, was not that he set himself above or before the 
 King, but that he spoke of himself along with him. 
 
 325. Your holy hat, etc.: — This was one of the articles exhibited 
 against Wolsey, but rather with a view to swell the catalogue than 
 from any serious cause of accusation ; inasmuch as the Arch- 
 bishops Cranmer. Bainbridge, and Warham were indulged with 
 the same privilege. 
 
 172
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Notes 
 
 350 et seq. " In Henry VIII. ," says Emerson, " I think I see 
 plainly the cropping out of the original work on which his 
 [Shakespeare's] own finer stratum was laid. The first play was 
 written by a superior, thoughtful man, with a vicious ear. I can 
 mark his lines, and know well their cadence. See Wolsey's solilo- 
 quy, and the following scene with Cromwell, where, instead of the 
 metre of Shakespeare, whose secret is that the thought constructs 
 the tune, so that reading for the sense will bring out the rhythm — 
 here the lines are constructed on a given tune, and the verse has 
 even a trace of pulpit eloquence." 
 
 411,412. the noble troops . . . smiles: — The number of per- 
 sons who composed Cardinal Wolsey's household, according to 
 the authentic copy of Cavendish, was five hundred. Cavendish's 
 work, though written soon after the death of Wolsey, was not 
 printed till 1641, and then in a most unfaithful and garbled man- 
 ner, the object of the publication having been to render Laud 
 odious, by showing how far Church power had been extended by 
 Wolsey, and how dangerous that prelate was, who, in the opinion 
 of many, followed his example. In that spurious copy we read 
 that the number of his household was eight hundred persons. In 
 other MSS. and in Dr. Wordsworth's edition, we find it stated at 
 one hundred and eighty persons. 
 
 ACT FOURTH. 
 Scene I. 
 
 16. coronation : — " The play," in the opinion of Emerson, " con- 
 tains through all its length unmistakable traits of Shakespeare's 
 hand, and some passages, as the account of the coronation, are 
 like autographs." 
 
 49. The Cinque-ports (i.e., the five ports) were Hastings, Sand- 
 wich, Dover, Romney, and Hythe. Rye and Winchelsea were 
 subsequently added. For furnishing many warships the original 
 five received important privileges. According to Hall, " the 
 Cinque-ports claimed to bear the canopy over the Queen's head, 
 the day of the coronation." 
 
 88. crozvn: — The coronation of Anne took place June i, 1533; 
 the divorcement of Katharine having been formally pronounced 
 the 17th of May. 
 
 173
 
 Notes FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 i6. his mule. — Cardinals generally rode on mules, as a mark 
 perhaps of humility. Cavendish says that Wolsey " rode like a 
 cardinal sumptuously upon his mule, trapped altogether in crim- 
 son velvet and gilt stirrups." 
 
 34. Of an unbounded stomach : — The Chronicles have many pas- 
 sages showing up this trait of pride or arrogance in Wolsey's 
 character. Thus: "It fortuned that the Archbishop of Canter- 
 bury wrote to the cardinall anon after that he had received his 
 power legantine, the which letter after his old familiar maner he 
 subscribed. Your brother William of Canterburie. With which 
 subscription he was so much offended, that he could not temper 
 his mood, but in high displeasure said that he would so worke 
 within a while, that he should well understand how he was his 
 superiour, and not his brother." This whole speech was evidently 
 founded upon the following, copied by Holinshed from Hall : 
 " This cardinall was of a great stomach for he compted himselfe 
 equall with princes, and by craftie suggestion got into his hands 
 innumerable treasure : he forced little on simonie, and was not 
 pitifull, and stood affectionate in his own opinion : in open pres- 
 ence he would lie and seie untruth, and was double both in speech 
 and meaning : he would promise much and perform little : he was 
 vicious of his bodie, and gave the clergie evill example." 
 
 48-68. This cardinal, etc. : — This speech is formed on the fol- 
 lowing passage in Holinshed : " This cardinall was a man un- 
 doubtedly born to honour; exceeding wise, faire-spoken, high- 
 minded, full of revenge, vitious of his bodie; loftie to his enemies, 
 were they never so big, to those that accepted and sought his 
 friendship wonderful 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 Ips- 
 wich and Oxenford, the one overthrown with his fall, the other 
 unfinished, and yet as it lyeth, for an house of studentes incom- 
 parable throughout Christendome. ... A great preferrer of 
 his servants, an advauncer of learning, stoute in every quarrel, 
 never happy till this his overthrow ; wherein he shewed such 
 moderation, and ended so perfectlie, that the houre of his death 
 did him more honour than all the pomp of his life passed." 
 
 103. rude behaviour: — Queen Katharine's servants, after the 
 divorce at Dunstable, were directed to be sworn to serve her not 
 as queen but as princess dowager. Some refused to take the bath, 
 
 174 
 
 I 
 I
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Notes 
 
 and so were forced to leave her service ; and as for those who took 
 it and stayed, she would not be served by them, by which means 
 she was almost destitute of attendants. 
 
 169. maiden Uowcrs: — To scatter flowers in the grave at the 
 burial of maidens was customary. See Hamlet, V. i. 244, 245 : 
 " She is allow'd her virgin crants, her maiden strewments " ; and, 
 a few lines further on, the Queen's words when she strews flowers 
 in the grave of Ophelia. 
 
 ACT FIFTH. r f ^^ 
 
 Scene I. 
 
 113-121. We here trace the Poet's reading into a new path, and 
 one that entirely refutes the old notion that his knowledge of 
 English history was confined to the pages of Holinshed. The 
 matter of the vScene, and in many cases the precise language, are 
 taken from the book commonly known as Foxc's Book of Mar- 
 tyrs, which was first printed in 1563. 
 
 142-157. Be of good cheer, etc.: — This is taken almost literally 
 from Foxe, who makes the King speak to the archbishop as fol- 
 lows : " ' Doe not you know what state you be in with the whole 
 world, and how manie great enemies you have? Do you not con- 
 ^ sider what an easie thing it is to procure three or foure false 
 knaves to witnesse against you? Think you to have better lucke 
 that wai than your master Christ had? I see by it you will run 
 headlong to your undoing, if I would suffer you. Your enemies 
 shall not so prevaile against you ; for I have otherwise devised 
 with myselfe to keepe you out of their hands. Yet notwithstand- 
 ing, to morrow, when the councell shall sit and send for you, re- 
 sort unto 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 councellor,,that you may have your accusers brought be- 
 fore them without any further indurance, and use for yourselfe 
 as good perswasions that way as you may devise; and if no in- 
 treatie will serve, then deliver unto them this my ring, and say 
 unto them, if there he no remedie, my lords, hut that I must needs 
 go to the Tower, then I revoke my cause from you and appeale to 
 the Kings owne person, hy this his token unto you all; for, so soon 
 as they shall see this my ring, they shall understand that I have 
 
 175
 
 Notes FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 resumed the whole cause into mine owne hands.' The archbishop, 
 perceiving the Kings benignitie so much to himwards, had much 
 ado to forbeare teares. ' Well,* said the King, ' go your waies, my 
 lord, and do as I have bidden you.' " 
 
 Scene IL 
 
 20. {Enter the King and Butts at a zvindow above.'] In America 
 we are not without some examples of old houses in which large 
 rooms are commanded by windows opening into them from 
 passageways or small adjacent apartments. But of old it was 
 quite common in England to have such windows in the large 
 rooms of manor halls, castles, and palaces, especially in the 
 kitchen and the dining-room, or banqueting-hall. From these 
 npertures the mistress of the mansion could overlook the move- 
 ments of her servants, either with or without their knowledge, 
 and direct them without the trouble and unpleasantness of min- 
 gling with them. Instead of a window there was very often a door 
 opening upon a small gallery or platform, not unlike those in 
 which the musicians are placed in some assembly rooms. Such a 
 gallery, too, was part of the stage arrangement of Shakespeare's 
 day. 
 
 34. draw the curtain close: — That is, the curtain of the balcony 
 or' upper stage, where the King now is. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 [The council-chamber.] The old stage direction at the com- 
 mencement of this Scene is : "A councell table brought in with 
 chayres and stooles and placed under the state." Our ancestors 
 were contented to be told that the same spot, perhaps without any 
 change of its appearance except the drawing back of a curtain, was 
 at once the outside and the inside of the council-chamber. 
 
 9Q-113. By virtue of that ring, etc.: — So in Foxe : "Anone the 
 archbishop was called into the counsaille chamber, to whome was 
 alledged as before is rehearsed. The archbishop answered in like 
 sort as the King had advised him ; and in the end, when he per- 
 ceived that no maner of perswasion or intreatie could serve, he de- 
 livered them the Kings ring, revoking his cause into the Kings 
 hands. The whole councell being thereat somewhat amazed, the 
 
 176
 
 MFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Notes 
 
 Earle of Bedford with a loud voice, confirming his wordes with a 
 solemn othe, said, 'When you first began the matter, my lords, 
 I tolde you what would come of it. Do you thinke that the King 
 will suffer this mans finger to ake? Much more, I warrant you, 
 will hee defend his life against brabling varlets. You doe but 
 cumber yourselves to heare tales and fables against him.' And so, 
 incontinently upon the receipt of the Kings token, they all rose, 
 and caryed the King his ring, surrendering that matter, as the 
 order and use was, into his own hands." 
 
 102. This is the king's ring : — It seems to have been a custom, 
 begun probably before the regal power experienced the restraints 
 of law, for every monarch to have a ring, the temporary posses- 
 sion of which invested the holder with the same authority as the 
 owner himself could exercise. The production of it was sufficient 
 to suspend the execution of the law ; it procured indemnity for of- 
 fences committed, and imposed acquiescence and submission to 
 whatever was done under its authority. The traditional story of 
 the Earl of Essex, Queen Elizabeth, and the Countess of Notting- 
 ham, long considered as an incident of a romance, is generally 
 known, and now as generally credited. 
 
 167. you 'Id spare your spoons : — The ancient offerings upon oc- 
 casions of christening when spoons were given as presents were 
 called apostle-spoons, because the extremity of the handle was 
 formed into the figure of one or other of the apostles. Such as 
 were opulent and generous gave the whole twelve ; those who 
 were more moderately rich or liberal, escaped at the expense of 
 the four evangelists ; or even sometimes contented themselves 
 with presenting one spoon only, which exhibited the figure of any 
 saint, in honour of whom the child received its name. 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 15. On May-day morning'. — Anciently the first of May was ob- 
 served by all classes of Englishmen as a holiday. The old custom 
 is finely touched by Wordsworth in his two Odes to May : — 
 
 " Time was, blest Power ! when youths and maids 
 At peep of dawn would rise 
 And wander forth, in forest glades 
 Thy birth to solemnize. 
 
 177
 
 Notes FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Though mute the song — to grace the rite 
 
 Untouch'd the hawthorn bough, 
 Thy Spirit triumphs o'er the shght; 
 
 Man changes, but not Thou ! " 
 
 Scene V. 
 
 50 et seq. On a picture of King James, which formerly belonged 
 to Bacon, the King is styled Imperii Atlantici Conditor. In 1612 
 there was a lottery for the plantation of Virginia. The lines prob- 
 ably allude to the settlement of that colony. 
 
 '/6. The last Act is the indispensable sequel and completion to 
 those that precede, and clinches the vast political determination 
 that was gathering and moving onward, in the intrigues and re- 
 actions of the earlier scenes. The business of the divorce opened 
 the question of independence of Rome — or reopened it, and it is 
 furthered by the dispositions of Anne Bullen and her feud with 
 the cardinal. In the last Act we find the King in personal exercise 
 of absolute power, and giving sign of casting it decisively into the 
 scale of the party of the new opinions, by crushing the intrigue 
 of Gardiner. Cranmer and Cromwell are indicated in the play 
 as the ecclesiastical and lay leaders of the impending innovation, 
 and if with brevity, we must remember that the ears of Shake- 
 speare's generation were still tingling with their doings, and 
 parties took sides at once at the very mention of their names. 
 Hence the significance to the course of the play, of the support 
 they receive from the King, and the seal of the alliance is the se- 
 lection of the new man Cranmer to be godfather to the infant 
 princess — of Elizabeth, who was destined to carry forward not 
 only the better public tendencies peace and power — of honours 
 open to all, and as nobly gained as bestowed, but also to secure 
 the strongest establishment for the church of liberty and liberali- 
 zing enlightenment, that the marriage of her mother was the occa- 
 sion of first effectually promoting. 
 
 178
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. 
 
 Questions on King Henry VIII. 
 
 1. Who is the dramatist to whom joint authorship of this play 
 is ascribed? 
 
 2. Mention the parts assigned to Shakespeare. 
 
 3. What is the temper of the play as evidenced by the Prologue? 
 How many instances does the play present where mightiness 
 meets misery? Do you think Shakespeare wrote the Prologue? 
 
 ACT FIRST. 
 
 4. What event is discussed by Norfolk and Buckingham at the 
 beginning of the play ? 
 
 5. Whom does Norfolk's glowing description serve to introduce, 
 and what impression of him is gained thereby? 
 
 6. What bits of personal biography of Wolsey does the scene 
 furnish? 
 
 7. What is the dramatic purpose of the scene between Wolsey 
 and Buckingham ? 
 
 8. Of what treasons does Buckingham accuse Wolsey? How is 
 the former prevented from carrying out his threat? How is the 
 promise of the Prologue fulfilled in the arrest of Buckingham? 
 
 9. Comment on the power of Wolsey at the court as indicated 
 by his position in the procession at the opening of Sc. ii. 
 
 10. Has the subject of the Queen's petition been introduced in 
 the preceding Scene? Does the interruption by the Queen make 
 an effective dramatic moment ? 
 
 11. Explain the social conditions resulting from the taxations. 
 Who was responsible for the taxations? On what pretext were 
 they levied? 
 
 12. What is Wolsey's defense of himself? Do the facts or does 
 the King accuse him and ask for explanation? 
 
 13. Indicate Henry's conservative policy. How does Wolsey 
 turn the King's pardon to his own advantage? 
 
 14. What are the accusations against Buckingham made by the 
 Surveyor? 
 
 179
 
 Questions KAMOUb Hlb'l OKY Ob THE 
 
 15. How does the Queen bear herself during this entire Scene? 
 What is the dramatic purpose of presenting her at the height of 
 her official dignity and influence at the outset of the play? 
 
 16. For whom was the Cardinal's party given as presented in 
 Sc. iv. ? 
 
 17. What impression do you get of Anne Bullen in this Scene? 
 What side of Henry's nature is here presented ? What of the 
 Cardinal ? 
 
 18. Is the incident of the masquers historical? 
 
 ACT SECOND. 
 
 19. How did the Duke of Buckingham conduct himself at his 
 trial? Why is the trial not given before the spectators? 
 
 20. In his speech, Sc. i., beginning line 55. what distinction does 
 Buckingham make between the justice of his sentence and the fact 
 of his own guilt or innocence? 
 
 21. W^hat was the fate of his father? Is there any anticipation 
 of the thought of Wolsey's farewell address (III. ii. 350) in the 
 speech of Buckingham beginning line 100? 
 
 22. How is Wolsey accused of implication in the rumoured 
 divorce of Henry and Katharine? Why did he desire the arch- 
 bishopric of Toledo? 
 
 23. What element of the exposition does the letter (Sc. iL) sup- 
 ply? What relation does Suffolk bear to the King? 
 
 24. What does Norfolk say (Sc. ii.) about Wolsey's influence 
 over the King? How is he shown, by dramatic means, to be the 
 privileged subject? 
 
 25. On what mission did Campeius come to the court? Give 
 the Dr. Pace incident and its effect upon Wolsey. How did the 
 Cardinal use all inferiors? 
 
 26. Interpret the King's allusions to Katharine at the end of 
 Sc. ii. 
 
 27. Is Anne's pity for the Queen genuine? Does she apprehend 
 the real grounds of the Queen's misery? Is Anne sincere in her 
 protestations about pomps? 
 
 28. Estimate the character of the Old Lady. What is her sta- 
 tion? Compare her with the Nurse in Romeo and Juliet. 
 
 29. What honours does the King bestow upon Anne? What 
 is the dramatic effect of this advancement of her? 
 
 30. How does Katharine begin her appeal (Sc. iv.) to the King 
 
 180
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Questions 
 
 at the opening of her trial ? What allusion does she make to the 
 legality of the marriage ? 
 
 31. What is the dramatic action accompanying the speech, Lord 
 cardinal, to you I speak ? 
 
 32. What point in Wolsey's career is marked by the Queen's 
 denunciation of him? 
 
 S3. How does Katharine characterize his reply to her? To 
 what pitch does it stir her ? 
 
 34. How does she leave the court? 
 
 35. What does the King say in exoneration of Wolsey? How 
 was Henry led to question the validity of his marriage with 
 Katharine? Interpret the King's speech with which the Scene 
 closes. 
 
 ACT THIRD. 
 
 36. Comment on the fitness of the opening song to the spirit ot 
 the first Scene. What presage is there of the conclusion of the 
 Scene ? 
 
 37. In what frame of mind does Katharine receive Wolsey and 
 Campeius? What does Wolsey say is the purpose of their visit? 
 
 38. In the scene with Wolsey and Campeius what new things 
 does Katharine advance in her own defence? What part does 
 her sense of queenly dignities as her right bear to her other 
 claims? Compare her with Hermione. Which case more moves 
 to pity? 
 
 39. In Wolsey's words, The hearts of princes kiss obedience, so 
 much they love it, what far-reaching principle does he suggest of 
 a polity that he helped to establish in England and which held 
 sway until the fall of the Stuarts? 
 
 40. Does the Scene close with a feeling of Katharine's defeat? 
 
 41. With what motive does the open opposition (Sc. ii.) against 
 Wolsey begin? How is it said that he swayed the King? 
 
 42. What are the two counts that the King has against Wolsey 
 which end in his downfall? How are they dramatically pre- 
 sented? 
 
 43. Why was Wolsey opposed to Anne Bullen? 
 
 44. Was the incident of Wolsey's mistake in sending to the 
 King the inventory of his personal possessions historically true? 
 Characterize the scene in which the King breaks with Wolsey. 
 
 45. To what uses did Wolsey intend to put the wealth that he 
 had accumulated? 
 
 181
 
 Questions FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 46. Is there a failure to sustain the level of the scene between 
 the points marked by the exit of the King and the farewell ad- 
 dress by Wolse}'-? What is Wolsey's bearing during the scoldings 
 of the lords? 
 
 47. It is judged that this Scene, from the exit of the King on to 
 the end, is the work of Fletcher. Mention some aspects of the 
 longer speeches that seem un-Shakespearian. 
 
 48. Is there a progressive rise in dramatic effect in the three 
 instances that illustrate the promise of the Prologue that the play 
 shall exhibit how mightiness meets misery} 
 
 ACT FOURTH. 
 
 49. How are we informed of the divorce of Katharine? What 
 attitude did she persist in maintaining towards the court set to 
 judge the case? 
 
 50. How is Anne Bullen's coronation procession described? 
 
 51. What is the dramatic purpose of Sc. ii. in following the 
 events of the preceding Scene ? 
 
 52. How did Wolsey end his life? 
 
 53. How does Katharine describe his life? Was Griffith's ac- 
 count as true as the Queen's? 
 
 54. What is symbolized by the masque? 
 
 55. What trait in Katharine does the conduct of the messenger 
 call out? 
 
 56 Is the last scene in which Katharine appears convincing in 
 Its truth to nature? 
 
 ACT FIFTH. 
 
 57. How does Sc. i. show Anne Bullen to be regarded by the 
 courtiers? 
 
 58. Who are associated with her in the disfavour of the court? 
 
 59. What incident precedes the interview of the King and Cran- 
 mer, and what is suggested by the juxtaposition? 
 
 60. How does Henry arrange with Cranmer to meet the charges 
 of the council ? On what grounds was Cranmer summoned before 
 them? 
 
 61. What is the chief trait of the Old Lady as exhibited in Sc. i. 
 and in the earlier Scene? 
 
 182
 
 LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII. Questions 
 
 62. What indignity is put upon Cranrrter, and how is the King 
 informed of it? Describe Cranmer's trial. 
 
 63. Indicate the purpose of Sc. iii. Granting that it was written 
 by Fletcher, or by some unknown hand, how does it compare with 
 similar scenes of undoubted Shakespearian authorship? 
 
 64. Comment upon the lack of unity of the play in considering 
 the last Act in relation to the others. 
 
 65. Viewing the play as a whole, what is its great artistic 
 defect? Is there a lack of any informing purpose? 
 
 Is there a lack of any informing purpose ? 
 
 66. Show how Wolsey's fall caused a change in his ideas of life 
 and duty. Do you regard his repentance and purification as 
 natural and logical ? 
 
 67. How is contrast effected by the portrayal of Cranmer in the 
 last Act? 
 
 68. How does the end of the play exhibit the transference of ab- 
 solute power once wielded by Wolsey? In this respect does the 
 play exhibit the true course of history? 
 
 69. What made it impossible for this play to present a life-like 
 portrait of Anne BuUen? Does this portrait contain anything 
 false? 
 
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 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA-LOS ANGELES 
 
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