Document:  All > Shakespeare > Histories > King Henry VIII > Act I, scene I

	[Enter NORFOLK at one door; at the other, BUCKINGHAM

BUCKINGHAM: Good morrow, and well met. How have ye done
	Since last we saw in France?

NORFOLK: I thank your grace,
	Healthful; and ever since a fresh admirer
	Of what I saw there.

BUCKINGHAM: An untimely ague
	Stay'd me a prisoner in my chamber when
	Those suns of glory, those two lights of men,
	Met in the vale of Andren.

NORFOLK: 'Twixt Guynes and Arde:
	I was then present, saw them salute on horseback;
	Beheld them, when they lighted, how they clung
	In their embracement, as they grew together;
	Which had they, what four throned ones could have weigh'd
	Such a compounded one?

BUCKINGHAM: All the whole time
	I was my chamber's prisoner.

NORFOLK: Then you lost
	The view of earthly glory: men might say,
	Till this time pomp was single, but now married
	To one above itself. Each following day
	Became the next day's master, till the last
	Made former wonders its. To-day the French,
	All clinquant, all in gold, like heathen gods,
	Shone down the English; and, to-morrow, they
	Made Britain India: every man that stood
	Show'd like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were
	As cherubins, all guilt: 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,
	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.

BUCKINGHAM: O, you go far.

NORFOLK: As I belong to worship and affect
	In honour honesty, the tract of every thing
	Would by a good discourser lose some life,
	Which action's self was tongue to. All was royal;
	To the disposing of it nought rebell'd.
	Order gave each thing view; the office did
	Distinctly his full function.

BUCKINGHAM: Who did guide,
	I mean, who set the body and the limbs
	Of this great sport together, as you guess?

NORFOLK: One, certes, that promises no element
	In such a business.

BUCKINGHAM: I pray you, who, my lord?

NORFOLK: All this was order'd by the good discretion
	Of the right reverend Cardinal of York.

BUCKINGHAM: The devil speed him! no man's pie is freed
	From his ambitious finger. What had he
	To do in these fierce vanities? I wonder
	That such a keech can with his very bulk
	Take up the rays o' the beneficial sun
	And keep it from the earth.

NORFOLK: Surely, sir,
	There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends;
	For, being not propp'd by ancestry, whose grace
	Chalks successors their way, nor call'd upon
	For high feats done to the crown; neither allied
	For 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.

ABERGAVENNY: I cannot tell
	What heaven hath given him,--let some graver eye
	Pierce into that; but I can see his pride
	Peep through each part of him: whence has he that,
	If not from hell? the devil is a niggard,
	Or has given all before, and he begins
	A new hell in himself.

BUCKINGHAM: Why the devil,
	Upon this French going out, took he upon him,
	Without the privity o' 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 the papers.

	Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that have
	By this so sickened their estates, that never
	They shall abound as formerly.

	Have broke their backs with laying manors on 'em
	For this great journey. What did this vanity
	But minister communication of
	A most poor issue?

NORFOLK:                   Grievingly I think,
	The peace between the French and us not values
	The cost that did conclude it.

BUCKINGHAM: Every man,
	After the hideous storm that follow'd, was
	A thing inspired; and, not consulting, broke
	Into a general prophecy; That this tempest,
	Dashing the garment of this peace, aboded
	The sudden breach on't.

NORFOLK: Which is budded out;
	For France hath flaw'd the league, and hath attach'd
	Our merchants' goods at Bourdeaux.

ABERGAVENNY: Is it therefore
	The ambassador is silenced?

NORFOLK: Marry, is't.

ABERGAVENNY: A proper title of a peace; and purchased
	At a superfluous rate!

BUCKINGHAM: Why, all this business
	Our reverend cardinal carried.

NORFOLK: Like it your grace,
	The state takes notice of the private difference
	Betwixt you and the cardinal. I advise you--
	And take it from a heart that wishes towards you
	Honour and plenteous safety--that you read
	The cardinal's malice and his potency
	Together; to consider further that
	What his high hatred would effect wants not
	A minister in his power. You know his nature,
	That he's revengeful, and I know his sword
	Hath a sharp edge: it's long and, 't may be said,
	It reaches far, and where 'twill not extend,
	Thither he darts it. Bosom up my counsel,
	You'll find it wholesome. Lo, where comes that rock
	That I advise your shunning.

	[Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, the purse borne before him,
	certain of the Guard, and two Secretaries with
	papers. CARDINAL WOLSEY in his passage fixeth his
	eye on BUCKINGHAM, and BUCKINGHAM on him, both full
	of disdain]

CARDINAL WOLSEY: The Duke of Buckingham's surveyor, ha?
	Where's his examination?

First Secretary: Here, so please you.

CARDINAL WOLSEY: Is he in person ready?

First Secretary: Ay, please your grace.

CARDINAL WOLSEY: Well, we shall then know more; and Buckingham
	Shall lessen this big look.

	[Exeunt CARDINAL WOLSEY and his Train]

BUCKINGHAM: This butcher's cur is venom-mouth'd, and I
	Have not the power to muzzle him; therefore best
	Not wake him in his slumber. A beggar's book
	Outworths a noble's blood.

NORFOLK: What, are you chafed?
	Ask God for temperance; that's the appliance only
	Which your disease requires.

BUCKINGHAM: I read in's looks
	Matter against me; and his eye reviled
	Me, as his abject object: at this instant
	He bores me with some trick: he's gone to the king;
	I'll follow and outstare him.

NORFOLK: Stay, my lord,
	And let your reason with your choler question
	What 'tis you go about: to climb steep hills
	Requires slow pace at first: anger is like
	A full-hot horse, who being allow'd his way,
	Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England
	Can advise me like you: be to yourself
	As you would to your friend.

BUCKINGHAM: I'll to the king;
	And from a mouth of honour quite cry down
	This Ipswich fellow's insolence; or proclaim
	There's difference in no persons.

NORFOLK: Be advised;
	Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot
	That it do singe yourself: we may outrun,
	By violent swiftness, that which we run at,
	And lose by over-running. Know you not,
	The fire that mounts the liquor til 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.

	I am thankful to you; and I'll go along
	By your prescription: but this top-proud fellow,
	Whom from the flow of gall I name not but
	From sincere motions, by intelligence,
	And proofs as clear as founts in July when
	We see each grain of gravel, I do know
	To be corrupt and treasonous.

NORFOLK: Say not 'treasonous.'

BUCKINGHAM: To the king I'll say't; and make my vouch as strong
	As shore of rock. Attend. This holy fox,
	Or wolf, or both,--for he is equal ravenous
	As he is subtle, and as prone to mischief
	As able to perform't; 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 rinsing.

NORFOLK: Faith, and so it did.

BUCKINGHAM: Pray, give me favour, sir. This cunning cardinal
	The articles o' the combination drew
	As himself pleased; and they were ratified
	As he cried 'Thus let be': to as much end
	As give a crutch to the dead: but our count-cardinal
	Has done this, and 'tis well; for worthy Wolsey,
	Who cannot err, he did it. Now this follows,--
	Which, as I take it, is a kind of puppy
	To the old dam, treason,--Charles the emperor,
	Under pretence to see the queen his aunt--
	For 'twas indeed his colour, but he came
	To whisper Wolsey,--here makes visitation:
	His fears were, that the interview betwixt
	England and France might, through their amity,
	Breed him some prejudice; for from this league
	Peep'd harms that menaced him: he privily
	Deals with our cardinal; and, 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
	Does buy and sell his honour as he pleases,
	And for his own advantage.

NORFOLK: I am sorry
	To hear this of him; and could wish he were
	Something mistaken in't.

BUCKINGHAM: No, not a syllable:
	I  do pronounce him in that very shape
	He shall appear in proof.

	[Enter BRANDON, a Sergeant-at-arms before him, and
	two or three of the Guard]

BRANDON: Your office, sergeant; execute it.

Sergeant: Sir,
	My lord the Duke of Buckingham, and Earl
	Of Hereford, Stafford, and Northampton, I
	Arrest thee of high treason, in the name
	Of our most sovereign king.

BUCKINGHAM: Lo, you, my lord,
	The net has fall'n upon me! I shall perish
	Under device and practise.

BRANDON: 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.

BUCKINGHAM: 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.
	O my Lord Abergavenny, fare you well!

BRANDON: Nay, he must bear you company. The king


	Is pleased you shall to the Tower, till you know
	How he determines further.

ABERGAVENNY: As the duke said,
	The will of heaven be done, and the king's pleasure
	By me obey'd!

BRANDON:                   Here is 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--

	These are the limbs o' the plot: no more, I hope.

BRANDON: A monk o' the Chartreux.

BUCKINGHAM: O, Nicholas Hopkins?


BUCKINGHAM: My surveyor is false; the o'er-great cardinal
	Hath show'd him gold; my life is spann'd already:
	I am the shadow of poor Buckingham,
	Whose figure even this instant cloud puts on,
	By darkening my clear sun. My lord, farewell.



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