King Henry VIII | Page 7

prayers did; and it's come to pass This tractable obedience is a slave To each incensed will. I would your Highness Would give it quick consideration, for There is no primer business.
KING. By my life, This is against our pleasure.
WOLSEY. And for me, I have no further gone in this than by A single voice; and that not pass'd me but By learned approbation of the judges. If I am Traduc'd by ignorant tongues, which neither know My faculties nor person, yet will be The chronicles of my doing, let me say '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 To cope malicious censurers; which ever, As ravenous fishes, do a vessel follow That is new-trimm'd, but benefit no further Than vainly longing. What we oft do best, By sick interpreters, once 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.
KING. Things done well, 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 trembling 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 deni'd The force of this commission. Pray, look to't; I put it to your care.
WOLSEY. A word with you. [To the Secretary, aside.] Let there be letters writ to every shire, Of the King's grace and pardon. The grieved commons Hardly conceive of me; let it be nois'd That through our intercession this revokement And pardon comes. I shall anon advise you Further in the proceeding.
[Exit Secretary.]
[Enter Surveyor.]
QUEEN KATHERINE. I am sorry that the Duke of Buckingham Is run in your displeasure.
KING. 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, 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.
WOLSEY. Stand forth, and with bold spirit relate what you, Most like a careful subject, have collected Out of the Duke of Buckingham.
KING. Speak freely.
SURVEYOR. First, it was usual with him, every day It would infect his speech, that if the King Should without issue die, he'll carry it so To make the sceptre his. These very words I've heard him utter to his son-in-law, Lord Abergavenny; to whom by oath he menac'd Revenge upon the Cardinal.
WOLSEY. 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.
QUEEN KATHERINE. My learn'd Lord Cardinal, Deliver all with charity.
KING. 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?
SURVEYOR. He was brought to this By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Henton.
KING. What was that Henton?
SURVEYOR. Sir, a Chartreux friar, His confessor; who fed him every minute With words of sovereignty.
KING. How know'st thou this?
SURVEYOR. 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 repli'd, Men fear the French would prove perfidious, To the King's danger. Presently the Duke Said, 'twas the fear, indeed; and that he doubted 'Twould 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