'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

Το

cope malicious censurers; which ever,

As ravenous fishes, do a vessel follow
That is new trimm'd, but benefit no farther
Than vainly longing. What we oft do best,
By sick interpreters (once1 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 motion will be mock'd or carp'd at,
We should take root here, where we sit, or sit
State statues only.

And with a care, exempt themselves from fear:
Things done without example, in their issue
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 trebling' contribution! Why, we take,
From every tree, lop, bark, and part o' the timber;
And, though we leave it with a root, thus hack'd,
The air will drink the sap. To every county
Where this is question'd send our letters, with
Free pardon to each man that has denied
The force of this commission. Pray, look to 't;
I put it to your care.

Wol.

A word with you. [To the Secretary.

Let there be letters writ to every shire,

Of the king's grace and pardon. The griev'd commons Hardly conceive of me: let it be nois'd,

That through our intercession this revokement

And pardon comes. I shall anon advise you

Farther in the proceeding.

Enter Surveyor.

[Exit Secretary.

Q. Kath. I am sorry that the duke of Buckingham Is one in your displeasure.

K. Hen. It grieves many : 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, 2 trembling in f. e. 3 run: in f. e.

1 Sometimes.

And never seek for aid out of himself: yet see,
When these so noble benefits shall prove

Not well dispos'd, 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 list'ning, could not find
His hour of speech a minute; he, my lady,
Hath into monstrous habits put the graces
That once were his, and is become as black

As if besmear'd in hell. Sit by us; you shall hear (This was his gentleman in trust) of him

Things to strike honour sad.-Bid him recount
The fore-recited practices, whereof

We cannot feel too little, hear too much.

Wol. Stand forth; and with bold spirit relate what

you,

Most like a careful subject, have collected

Out of the duke of Buckingham.

K. Hen.

Speak freely.

Surv. First, it was usual with him, every day
It would infect his speech, that if the king
Should without issue die, he 'd' carry it so
To make the sceptre his. These very words
I've heard him utter to his son-in-law,
Lord Aberga'ny, to whom by oath he menac'd
Revenge upon the cardinal.

Wol.

Please your highness, note

This dangerous conception in this point.
Not friended by his wish, to your high person
His will is most malignant; and it stretches

Beyond you, to your friends.

Q. Kath.

Deliver all with charity.

K. Hen.

My learn'd lord cardinal,

Speak on.

How grounded he his title to the crown,

Upon our fail? To this point hast thou heard him

At any time speak aught?

Surv.

He was brought to this

Sir, a Chartreux friar,

By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Hopkins.
K. Hen. What was that Hopkins?
Surv.
His confessor; who fed him every minute

1 he'll in folio. The change was made by Rowe.

With words of sovereignty.

K. Hen.

How know'st thou this?

Surv. Not long before your highness sped to France, The duke being at the Rose, within the parish Saint Lawrence Poultney, did of me demand What was the speech among the Londoners Concerning the French journey? I replied, Men fear'd the French would prove perfidious, To the king's danger. Presently the duke Said, 't was the fear, indeed; and that he doubted, 'T would prove the verity of certain words Spoke by a holy monk; "that oft," says he, "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 ensu'd,-Neither the king, nor 's heir,
(Tell you the duke) shall prosper: bid him strive
To gain the love o' the commonalty: the duke
Shall govern England.

If I know you well,

Q. Kath.
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.

K. Hen.

Go forward.

Surv.

Let him on.

On my soul, I'll speak but truth.

I told my lord the duke, by the devil's illusions

The monk might be deceiv'd; and that 't was dangerous From this to ruminate on it so far, until

It forg'd him some design, which, being believ'd,

It was much like to do: He answered, "Tush!

It can do me no damage:" adding farther,
That had the king in his last sickness fail'd,
The cardinal's and sir Thomas Lovell's heads
Should have gone off.

K. Hen.

Ha! what, so rank? Ah, ha! There's mischief in this man.-Canst thou say farther? Surv. I can, my liege.

Being at Greenwich,

After your highness had reprov'd the duke
About sir William Blomer,-

K. Hen.

I remember,

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

Th' 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."

K. Hen. A giant traitor! Wol. Now, madam, may his highness live in freedom, And this man out of prison?

Q. Kath.

God mend all!

K. Hen. 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 tenor Was,-were he evil us'd, he would out-go His father, by as much as a performance Does an irresolute purpose.

There's his period,

K. Hen.
To sheathe his knife in us.-He is attach'd;
Call him to present trial: if he may
Find mercy in the law, 't is his; if none,
Let him not seek 't of us. By day and night,
He is a daring traitor to the height.1

SCENE III-A Room in the Palace.

[Exeunt.

Enter the Lord Chamberlain, and Lord SANDS. Cham. Is 't possible, the spells of France should juggle Men into such strange mysteries ?

Sands.

Though they be never so ridiculous,

New customs,

Nay, let 'em be unmanly, yet are follow'd.

Cham. As far as I see, all the good our English 2 He's traitor to the height: in f. e.

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.

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 them.

Cham.

Death! my lord,

Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too,

That, sure, they've worn out Christendom.-How now! What news, sir Thomas Lovell ?

Lov.

Enter Sir THOMAS LOVELL.

'Faith, my lord,

What is 't for?

I hear of none, but the new proclamation
That's clapp'd upon the court-gate.

Cham.

Lov. The reformation of our travell'd gallants, That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors. Cham. I am glad 't is there: now, I would pray our

monsieurs

To think an English courtier may be wise,

And never see the Louvre.

Lov.
They must either
(For so run the conditions) leave those remnants
Of fool, and feather, that they got in France,
With all their honourable points of ignorance
Pertaining thereunto, as fights and fireworks;
Abusing better men than they can be,

Out of a foreign wisdom; renouncing clean
The faith they have in tennis, and tall stockings,
Short blister'd breeches, and those types of travel,
And understand again like honest men,

Or pack to their old playfellows; there, I take it,
They may, cum privilegio, wear away

The lag end of their lewdness, and be laugh'd at.
Sands. 'T is 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;

VOL. V.-33