My Lord the Duke of Buckingham, and Earl
Of Hertford, Stafford, and Northampton, I
Arreft thee of high treafon, in the name
Of our most Sov'reign King,

Buck. Lo you, my Lord,

The net has fall'n upon me; I shall perish
Under device and practice.

Bran. I am forry

To fee you ta'en from liberty, to look on
The business prefent.

'Tis his Highness' pleasure

You fhail to th' Tower..

Buck. It will help me nothing

To plead mine innocence; for that dye is on me,
Which makes my whit'ft part black. The will of heav'n
Be done in this and all things! I obey.

O my Lord Aberga'ny, fare ye well.

Bran. Nay, he must bear you company. The King Is pleas'd you fhall to th' Tower, 'till you know How he determines further.

Aber. As the Duke said,

The will of heav'n be done; and the King's pleasure By me obey'd!

Bran. Here is a warrant from

The King, t' attach Lord Montague; and the bodies Of the Duke's confeffor, John de la Car;

And Gilbert Peck, his chancellor. (5)

Buck. So, fo;

These are the limbs o' th' plot: no more, I hope ?
Bran. A monk o' th' Chartreux.

Buck. Nicholas Hopkins? (6)

(5) One Gilbert Peck, his counsellor.] So the old copies have it but, when I publifh'd my SHAKESPEARE reftor'd, I, from the authorities of Hall and Holing fhead, chang'd it to chancellor. And our poet himself, in the beginning of the fecond act, vouches for this correction.

At which, appear'd against him his surveyor,

Sir Gilbert Peck his chancellor

*Mr. Pope, in his laft edition, has vouchfaf'd to embrace my correction. (6) Michael Hopkins?] So all the old copies had it; and fo Mr. Rowe and Mr. Pope from them, But here again, by the help of the chronicles, I have formerly given the true reading; which Mr. Pope has likewife adopted in his last edition.

Bran.

Bran. He.

Buck. My furveyor is falfe, the o'er-great Cardinal Hath fhew'd him gold; my life is spann'd already : I am the fhadow of poor Buckingham,

Whofe figure ev'n this inftant cloud puts on,

By dark'ning my clear fun. My Lord, farewel. [Exeunt.

SCENE changes to the Council-Chamber. Cornet. Enter King Henry, leaning on the Cardinal's shoulder; the Nobles, and Sir Thomas Lovel; the Cardinal places himself under the King's feet, on his right fide.

King M Thanks you for this great care: 1 flood i'th' M'

Y life itself, and the best heart of it, [level

Of a full-charg'd confed'racy, and give thanks
To you that choak'd it. Let be call'd before us
That gentleman of Buckingham's in perfon;
I'll hear him his confeffions juftify,

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

A noife within, crying, Room for the Queen.

Enter the

Queen ufer'd by the Duke of Norfolk, and Suffolk ; She kneels. The King rifeth from his ftate, takes her up, kiffes and placeth her by him.

Queen. Nay, we muft longer kneel; I am a fuitor. King. Arife, and take your place by us; half your fuit Never name to us; you have half our power: The other moiety, ere you afk, is given; Repeat your will, and take it.

Queen. Thank your Majesty.

That you would love yourself, and in that love

Not unconfider'd leave your honour, nor

The dignity of your office, is the point

Of my petition.

King. Lady mine, proceed.

Queen. I am folicited, not by a few,

And those of true condition, that your fubjects

Are in great grievance. There have been commiffions

Sent down among 'em, which have flaw'd the heart

VOL. V.

of

[To Wolfey.

Of all their loyalties; wherein although
(My good Lord Cardinal) they vent reproaches
Moft bitterly on you, as putter on

Of thefe exactions; yet the King our master

(Whose honour heav'n fhield from foil) ev'n he escapes not Language unmannerly; yea fuch, which breaks

The fides of loyalty, and almost appears

In loud rebellion.

Nor. Not almost appears,

It doth appear; for upon thefe taxations,
The clothiers all, not able to maintain
The many to them 'longing, have put off
The fpiniters, carders, fullers, weavers; who,
Unfit for other life, compell'd by hunger
And lack of other means, in defp'rate manner
Daring th' event to th' teeth, are all in uproar,
And danger ferves among them.

King. Taxation ?

Wherein? and what taxation? my Lord Cardinal,
You that are blam'd for it alike with us,

Know you of this taxation?

Wol. Please you, Sir,

I know but of a fingle part in ought

Pertains to th' ftate, and front but in that file

Where others tell fteps with me.

Queen. No, my Lord,

You know no more than others: but you frame
Things that are known alike, which are not wholefome
To thofe which would not know them, and yet must
Perforce be their acquaintance. These exactions
(Whereof my Sov'reign would have note) they are
Most peftilent to th' hearing; and, to bear 'em,
The back is facrifice to th' load; they say,
They are devis'd by you, or elfe you fuffer
Too hard an exclamation..

King. Still, exaction!

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

Queen. I am much too vent'rous

In tempting of your patience, but am bolden'd

Under

Under your promis'd pardon. The subjects grief Comes through commiffions, which compel from each The fixth part of his fubftance, to be levy'd

Without delay and the pretence for this

:

Is nam'd, your wars in France. This makes bold mouths;
Tongues fpit their duties out, and cold hearts freez
Allegiance in them; all their curfes now

Live where their pray'rs did; and it's come to pafs,
That tractable obedience is a flave

To each incenfed will. I would, your Highness
Would give it quick confideration, for
There is no primer baseness.

King. By my life,

This is against our pleasure.
Wol. And for me,

I have no further gone in this, than by
A fingle voice; and that not paft me, but
By learned approbation of the judges.

If I'm traduc'd by tongues, which neither know
My faculties, nor perfon; yet will be
The chronicles of my doing; let me fay,
'Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brake
That virtue muft go through: we must not stint
Our neceffary actions, in the fear

To cope malicious cenfurers; which ever,
As rav'nous fishes do a veffel follow

That is new trimm'd; but benefit no further
Than vainly longing. What we oft do best,
By fick interpreters, or weak ones, is
Not ours, or not allow'd: what worst, as oft
Hitting a groffer quality, is cry'd up
For our best act : if we stand still, in fear
Our motion will be mock'd or carp'd at,
We should take root here were we fit:
Or fit state-ftatues only.

King. Things done well,

And with a care, exempt themfelves from fear:
Things done without example, in their iffue
Are to be fear'd. Have you a precedent
Of this commiffion? I believe, not any.

We must not rend our fubjects from our laws,
And flick them in our will. Sixth part of each!
A trembling contribution !-why, we take
From ev'ry tree, lop, bark, and part o' th' timber :
And though we leave it with a root, thus hackt,
The air will drink the fap. To ev'ry county,
Where this is queftion'd, fend our letters, with
Free pardon to each man that has deny'd
The force of this commiffion: pray, look to't;
put it to your care.

I

Wol. A word with you.

Let there be letters writ to ev'ry fhire,

[To the Secretary.

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

That, through our interceflion, this revokement

And pardon comes; I fhall anon advise you

Further in the proceeding.

Enter Surveyor.

[Exit Secretary.

Queen. I'm forry that the Duke of Buckingham Is run in your displeasure.

King. It grieves many;

The gentleman is learn'd, a moft rare speaker,
To nature none more bound; his training fuch,
That he may furnish and inftruct great teachers,
And never feek for aid out of himfelf.

Yet fee, when noble benefits fhall prove

Not well difpos'd, the mind growing once corrupt,
They turn to vicious forms, ten times more ugly
Than ever they were fair. This man fo compleat,
Who was enroll'd 'mongst wonders, and when we,
Almoft with lift'ning ravish'd, could not find
His hour of speech, a minute; he, my Lady,
Hath into monftrous habits put the graces
That once were his; and is become as black,
As if befmear'd in hell. Sit, you fhall hear
(This was his gentleman in truft) of him
Things to ftrike honour fad. Bid him recount
The fore-recited practices, whereof

We cannot feel too little, hear too much.

Wol.