KING HENRY VIII.

ACT I.

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 ABERGAVENNY.

Buckingham.

GOOD morrow, and well met. How have you done,

Since last we saw in France ?

Nor. I thank your grace :

Healthful; and ever since a fresh admirer1
Of what I saw there.

Buck. An untimely ague

Stay'd me a prisoner in my chamber, when
Those sons of glory, those two lights of men,
Met in the vale of Arde.

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;

Which had they, what four thron'd ones could have

weigh'd

Such a compounded one ?

Buck. All the whole time

I was my chamber's prisoner.

Nor. 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 gilt: the madams too,
Not us'd to toil, did almost sweat to bear
The pride upon them, that their very labour
Was to them as a painting: now this mask
Was cry'd incomparable; and th' 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 them,) by their heralds challeng'd
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 believ'd.

Buck. O, you go far.

All was royal;

Nor. 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.
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?

Nor. One, certes, that promises no elements
In such a business.

Buck. I pray you who, my lord ?

Nor. All this was order'd by the good discretion Of the right reverend cardinal of York.

Buck. The devil speed him! no man's pie is freed

[5] Censure, for determination, of which had the noblest appearance. WARB. [6] The old romantic legend of Bevis of Southampton. This Bevis, (or Beavois,) a Saxon, was for his prowess created by William the Conqueror Earl of Southampton: of whom Camden speaks in his Britannia. THEOBALD.

[7] The course of these triumphs and pleasures, however well related, must lose in the description part of that spirit and energy which were expressed in the real action. JOHNSON.

[8] No initiation, no previous practices. Elements are the first principles of things or rudiments of knowledge. The word is here applied, not without a catachresis, to a person. JOHNSON.

[9] To have a finger in the pie, is a proverbial phrase.

REED.

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' th' beneficial sun,
And keep it from the earth.

Nor. Surely, sir,

There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends :
For, being not propt by ancestry, (whose grace
Chalks successors their way,) nor call'd upon
For high feats done to th' 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.

Aber. 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.

Buck. Why the devil,

Upon this French going-out, took he upon him,
Without the privity o' th' king, to appoint
Who should attend on him? He makes up the file
Of all the gentry; for the most part such
Too, 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.5

Aber. I do know

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 them For this great journey. What did this vanity,