King Henry VIII | Page 4

may weep upon his wedding-day.

ACT I.
SCENE 1. 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 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 thron'd 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 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 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 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.
BUCKINGHAM O, you go far!
NORFOLK. As I belong to worship and affect In honour honesty, the
tract of ev'rything 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 ord'red 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' th'
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 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.
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 he papers.
ABERGAVENNY. 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.
BUCKINGHAM. O, many 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 inspir'd; and, not consulting, broke Into a general prophecy,
that this tempest, Dashing the