1 Rank weeds are weeds grown up to great height and strength. What, (says the king,) was he advanced to this pitch?

2 Sir William Blomer (Holinshed calls him Bulmer) was reprimanded by the king in the Star Chamber, for that, being his sworn servant, he had left the king's service for the duke of Buckingham's.

8 The accuracy of Holinshed, from whom Shakspeare took his account of the accusations and punishment, together with the qualities of the duke of Buckingham, is proved in the most authentic manner by a very curious report of his case in East. Term. 13 Hen. VIII. in the year books published by authority, edit. 1597, f. 11, 12. 4 Steevens takes unnecessary pains to explain this phrase. I wonder he could doubt that it was an adjura

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 them, 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 them pace before, the spavin,
A springhalt reign'd among them.
Cham.
Death! my lord,
Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too,
That, sure, they have worn out christendom. How

now?

What news, Sir Thomas Lovell ?

To think an English courtier
And never see the Louvre.
Lov.

may

They must either
(For so run the conditions) leave these remnants
Of fool and feather, that they got in France,
With all their honourable points of igorance,
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,1° 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. "Tis time to give them physic, their dis-

(For, sure, there's no converting of them :) 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.

8 The springhalt or stringhult is a disease incident to horses, which makes them limp in their paces. It is a humorous comparison of the mincing gait of the Frenchified courtiers to this convulsive motion. Jonson, in his Bartholomew Fair, uses it :

Poor soul, she has had a stringhalt.

Ben

9 The text may receive illustration from Nashe's Life of Jacke Wilton, 1594:-At that time (viz. in the court of King Henry VIII.) I was no common squire, no undertrodden torchbearer, I had my feather in my cap as big as a flag in the foretop, my French doublet gelte in the belly, as though, (lyke a pig readie to be spitted,) all my guts had beene pluckt out, 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, &c. my blacke cloake of cloth, overspreading my backe lyke a thorn5 Shakspeare has placed this scene in 1521. Charles backe or an elephant's eare; and in consummation of earl of Worcester was then lord chamberlain, and con- my curiositie, my handes without gloves, all a more tinued in the office until his death, in 1526. But Caven-French,' &c. Mr. Douce justly observes that Sir Tho dish, 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 Banngetoke, Hants, was created a peer in 1524. He succeeded the earl of Worcester as chamberlain.

6 Mysteries are arts, and here artificial fashions. 7 A fit of the face seems to be a grimace, an artificial cast of the countenance.

R

mas Lovell's is an allusion to the feathers which were formerly worn by fools in their caps, as may be seen in a print of Jordan's after Voert; and which is alluded to in the Ballad of News and no News:

"And feathers wagging in a fool's cap.'

10 i. e. breeches puffed or swelled out like blisters. 11 The late edition of Mr. Boswell reads hold, noticing that held is the reading of the first folio.

Your lordship is a guest too.
Cham.

Sir Thomas,

To the cardinal's;

O, 'tis true;

Was he mad, sir?

If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me;
I had it from my father.
Anne.
Sands. O, very mad, exceeding mad, in love too:
But he would bite none; just as I do now,
He would kiss you twenty with a breath.

[Kisses her.
Cham.
Well said, my lord.-
So, now you are fairly seated:-Gentlemen,
The penance lies on you, if these fair ladies

This night he makes a supper, and a great one,
To many lords and ladies; there will be
The beauty of this kingdom, I'll assure you.
Lov. That churchman bears a bounteous mind in- Pass away frowning.
deed,

A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us;
His dews fall every where.

Cham.

No doubt, he's noble ;
He had a black mouth, that said other of him.
Sands. He may, my lord, he has wherewithal;
in him,
Sparing would show a worse sin than ill doctrine :
Men of his way should be most liberal,
They are set here for examples.
Cham.
True, they are so:
But few now give so great ones. My barge stays;1
Your lordship shall along:-Come, good Sir Tho-

mas,

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.

Sands.
Let me alone.

For my little cure,

Hautboys. Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, attended; and takes his state.

Wol. You are welcome, my fair guests; that noble lady,

Or gentleman, that is not freely merry,

Is not my friend: This, to confirm my welcome;
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,
I am beholden to you: cheer your neighbours.-
Ladies, you are not merry ;-Gentlemen,
Whose fault is this?
Sands.

The red wine first must rise [Exeunt. In their fair cheeks, my lord; then we shall have

SCENE IV. The Presence Chamber in York
Piace. Hantboys. A small table under a state
for the Cardinal, a longer table for the guests.
Enter at one door ANNE BULLEN, and divers
Lords, Ladies, and Gentlewomen, as guests; at
another door, enter SIR HENRY GUILDFORD.
Guild. Ladies, a general welcome from his grace
Salutes ye all: This night he dedicates
To fair content, and you: none here, he hopes,
In all this noble bevy,2 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.-O, my lord, you are
tardy;

Enter Lord Chamberlain, LORD SANDS, and SIR
THOMAS LOVELL.

The very thought of this fair company
Clapp'd wings to me.

Cham. You are young, Sir Harry Guildford.
Sands. Sir Thomas Lovell, had the cardinal
But half my lay-thoughts in him, some of these
Should find a running banquet ere they rested,
I think, would better please them: By my life,
They are a sweet society of fair ones.

Lov. O, that your lordship were but now con-
fessor

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.
Cham. Sweet ladies, will it please you sit? Sir
Harry,

Place you that side, I'll take the charge of this:
His grace is ent'ring.-Nay, you must not freeze;
Two women plac'd together makes cold weather:-
My Lord Sands, you are one will keep them waking;
Pray, sit between these ladies.

By my faith,

Sands.
And thank your lordship.-By your leave, sweet
ladies:

[Seats himself between ANNE BULLEN and
another Lady.

1 The speaker is now in the king's palace at Bride-
well, from whence he is proceeding by water to York
Place (Cardinal Wolsey's house), now Whitehall.
2 A bery is a company.

3 i. e. if I may choose my game.

them 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,-

4 Chambers are short pieces of ordnance, standing almost erect upon their breechings, chiefly used upon festive occasious, being so contrived as to carry great

Anne.

You cannot show me. Sands. I told your grace, they would talk anon. [Drum and trumpets within: Chambers discharged.

IVol.

What's that?

Cham. Look out there, some of you.

(Exit a Servant.
Wol.
What warlike voice?
And to what end is this?-Nay, ladies, fear not;
By all the laws of war you are privileg'd.

And, pray, receive them nobly, and conduct them
Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty
Shall shine at full upon them :--Some attend him.-
[Exit Chamberlain, attended. All arise,
and Tables removed.
You have now a broken banquet; but we'll mend it.
A good digestion to you all: and, once more,
I shower a welcome on you;-Welcome all.
Hautboys. Enter the King, and twelve others, as
Maskers, habited like Shepherds, with sixteen
Torchbearers: ushered by the Lord Chamberlain.
They pass directly before the Cardinal, and grace-
fully salute him.

A noble company! what are their pleasures?
Cham. Because they speak no English, thus they

pray'd

charges, and make a loud report. They had their name from being little more than mere chambers to lodg powder; that being the technical name for that cavity in a gun which contains the powder or combustible mar ter. Cavendish, describing this scene as it really oc curred, says that against the king's coming were lai charged many chambers, and at his landing they wer all shot off, which made such a rumble in the air that was like thunder.'

To drink to these fair ladies, and a measure
To lead them once again; and then let's dream
Who's best in favour.-Let the music knock it."
[Exeunt, with trumpets.

They have done my poor house grace; for which SCENE I. A Street. Enter two Gentlemen, I pay them

Even to the hall to hear what shall become
Of the great duke of Buckingham.

1 Gent.

I'll save you
That labour, sir. All's now done, but the ceremony
Of bringing back the prisoner.
Were you

2 Gent.

1 Gent. Yes, indeed, was I.

2 Gent.

Pray, speak, what has happen'd?

1 Gent. You may guess quickly what.
2 Gent.

2 Gent. But, pray, how pass'd it?
1 Gent. I'll tell you in a little. The great
Came to the bar; where, to his accusations,
He pleaded still, not guilty, and alleg'd
Many sharp reasons to defeat the law.
The king's attorney, on the contrary,
Urg'd on the examinations, proofs, confessions
Of divers witnesses; which the duke desir'd
To have brought, viva voce, to his face:
At which appear'd against him, his surveyor;
Sir Gilbert Peck his chancellor; and John Court,
Confessor to him; with that devil-monk,
Hopkins, that made this mischief.

At his return,

1 Gent.
No doubt, he will requite it. This is noted,
And generally whoever the king favours,
The cardinal instantly will find employment,
And far enough froin court too.

2 Gent.
All the commons
Hate him perniciously, and, o' my conscience,,
Wish him ten fathom deep: this duke as much
They love and dote on; call him, bounteous Buck-
ingham,

The mirror of all courtesy ;'1 Gent.

Stay there, sir,
And see the noble ruin'd man you speak of.
Enter BUCKINGHAM from his arraignment; Tip-
staves before him, the axe with the edge towards
him; halberts on each side: with him SIR THO-
MAS LOVELL, SIR NICHOLAS VAUX, SIR WIL-
LIAM SANDS, and common People.

2 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 receiv'd a traitor's judgment,
And by that name must die; Yet, heaven bear
witness,

And, if I have a conscience, let it sink me,
Even as the axe falls, if I be not faithful!
The law I bear no malice for my death,
It has done, upon the premises, but justice:

But those, that sought it, I could wish more chris

Lov. I do beseech your grace, for charity,
If ever any malice in your heart'
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, I can't take peace with no black envy
Shall make 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
Yet are the king's; and, till soul forsake me,

my

prayers

1 The report in the Old Year Book, referred to above, thus describes him. Car il fut tres noble prince et prudent, et mirror de tout courtesie.

2 The old copy reads Sir Walter. The correction is justified by Holinshed. Sir William Sands was at this time (May, 1521) only a knight, not being created Lord Sands till April 27, 1527. Shakspeare probably did not know that he was the same person whom he has already introduced with that title. The error arose by placing the king's visit to Wolsey (at which time Sir William was Lord Sands) and Buckingham's condemnation in the same year; whereas the visit was made some years afterwards.

3 Evils are forcie.

4 Thus in Lord Sterline's Darius :

'Scarce was the lasting last divorcement made Betwixt the bodie and the soule."

5 Johnson observes, with great truth, that these lines

are remarkably tender and pathetic.

6 Shakspeare, by this expression, probably meant to make the duke say, No action expressive of malice shall

Then give my charge up to Sir Nicholas Vaux,
Who undertakes you to your end.
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,
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 Bo-
hun:"

Yet I am richer than my base accusers,
That never knew what truth meant: I now seal it ;a
And with that blood will make them one day groan

for't.

My noble father, Henry of Buckingham,
Who first rais'd head against usurping Richard,
Flying for succour to his servant Banister,
Being distress'd, was by that wretch betray'd,
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,
Restor'd 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:
Yet thus far we are one in fortunes,- Both
Fell by our servants, by those men we lov'd 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

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,19
Speak how I fell.-I have done; and God forgive
me!
[Exeunt BUCKINGHAM and Train.
1 Gent. O, this is full of pity!-Sir, it calls,
I fear, too many curses on their heads,

That were the authors.

close my life. Enry is elsewhere used by Shakspeare for malice or hatred. Unless with Warburton we read 'mark my grave; a very plausible emendation of an error easily made; and which has indeed happened in an instance in King Henry V. Act ii. Sc. 2, where the old copy erroneously reads:

To make the full fraught man and best endued With some supicion.'

7 The name of the duke of Buckingham 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. Shakspeare follows Holinshed.

8 I now seal my truth, my loyalty, with blood, which blood shall one day make them groan.

9 This expression occurs again in Othello :-
There are a kind of men so loose of soul,
That in their sleeps will mutter their affairs.'

10 Thus also in King Richard II. :

Tell thou the lamentable tale of me,
And send the hearers weeping to their beds,'

2 Gent. This secret is so weighty, 'twill require | And with what zeal! For, now he has crack'd the A strong faith' to conceal it.

1 Gent.

I do not talk much.

2 Gent.

Let me have it;

I am confident:

You shall, sir: Did you not of late days hear
A buzzing, of a separation
Between the king and Katharine ?

1 Gent.

Yes, but it held2 not:
For when the king once heard it, out of anger
He sent command to the lord mayor, straight
To stop the rumour, and allay those tongues
That durst disperse it.

2 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 arriv'd, and lately;
As all think, for this business.

1 Gent.
'Tis the cardinal;
And merely to revenge him on the emperor,
For not bestowing on him, at his asking,
The archbishopric of Toledo, this is purpos'd.

2 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.
1 Gent.

'Tis woful.
[Exeunt.

league

Between us and the emperor, the queen's great

nephew,

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,
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
them,

And every true heart weeps for't: All, that dare
Look into these affairs, see this main end,-
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. We 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 in one lump before him, to be fashion'd
Into what pitch he please."
Suf.

If the king please; his curses and his blessings
Touch me alike, they are breath I not believe in,
I knew him, and I know him; so I leave him
To him, that made him proud, the pope.

We are too open here to argue this; Let's think in private more. For me, my lords, I love him not, nor fear him; there's my creed; SCENE II. An Antechamber in the Palace. En-As I am made without him, so I'll stand, ter 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 handsome; 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.

No, his conscience

Has crept too near another lady.
Nor.

'Tis so;
This is the cardinal's doing, the king-cardinal:
That blind priest, like the eldest son of fortune,
Turns what he list. The king will know him one
day.

Suf. Pray God, he do! he'll never know himself else.

Nor. How holily he works in all his business! 1 Great fidelity.

2 Steevens erroneously explains this passage, saying infeld is to believe: “it held not here rather means it not sustain itself,' the rumour did not prove true. So in King Richard III. Act ii. Sc. 2 :-

Doth the news hold of good King Edward's death? 3 See The Winter's Tale, Act i. Se. 2. note 8. 4 It was the main end or object of Wolsey to bring about a marriage between Henry and the French king's ester, the duchess of Alençon.

5 The meaning is, that the cardinal can, as he pleases, make high or low.

Nor.

Let's in ;

And, with some other business, put the king
From these sad thoughts, that work too much upon
My lord, you'll bear us company?
Cham.

him :

Excuse me;

The king hath sent me other-where: besides,
You'll find a most unfit time to disturb him:
Health to your lordships.

Nor.

Thanks, my good lord chamberlain. [Exit Lord Chamberlain.

NORFOLK opens a folding-door. The King is discovered sitting, and reading pensively.

Suf. How sad he looks! sure, he is much afflicted.

K. Hen. Who is there? ha?

Nor.

'Pray God, he be not angry. K. Hen. 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
To know your royal pleasure.

K. Hen.

You are too bold: Go to; I'll make ye know your times of busi

These the person who was to be discovered (as Henry in the present case,) drew back just at the proper time. Norfolk has just said 'Let's in; and therefore should himself do some act in order to visit the king. This, indeed, in the simple state of the old stage, was 6 The stage direction in the old copy is singular-not attended to; the king very civilly discovering him'Exit Lord Chamberlain, and the king draws the cur- self. See Malone's account of the Old Theatres, in Mr. tain, and sits reading pensively.'-This was calculated | Boswell's edition, vol. ii.