His 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 learned Lord Cardinal,

Deliver all with charity.

KING HENRY (to the surveyor) 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?

BUCKINGHAM’S SURVEYOR

He was brought to this

By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Hopkins.

KING HENRY

What was that Hopkins?

BUCKINGHAM’S SURVEYOR

Sir, a Chartreux friar,

His confessor, who fed him every minute

With words of sovereignty.

KING HENRY

How know’st thou this?

BUCKINGHAM’S SURVEYOR

Not long before your highness sped to France,

The Duke being at the Rose, within the parish

Saint Lawrence Poutney, did of me demand

What was the speech among the Londoners

Concerning the French journey. I replied

Men feared 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 choice hour

To hear from him a matter of some moment;

Whom after under the confession’s seal

He solemnly had sworn, that what he spoke

My chaplain to no creature living but

To me should utter, with demure confidence

This pausingly ensued: “neither the King nor’s heirs”,

Tell you the Duke, “shall prosper. Bid him strive

To win the love o’th’ commonalty. The Duke

Shall govern England.” ’

QUEEN KATHERINE

If I know you well,

You were the Duke’s surveyor, and lost your office

On the complaint o’th’ tenants. Take good heed

You charge not in your spleen a noble person

And spoil your nobler soul. I say, take heed;

Yes, heartily beseech you.

KING HENRY

Let him on.

(To the Surveyor) Go forward.

BUCKINGHAM’S SURVEYOR On my soul I’ll speak but truth.

I told my lord the Duke, by th’ devil’s illusions

The monk might be deceived, and that ‘twas

dangerous

To ruminate on this so far until

It forged him some design which, being believed,

It was much like to do. He answered, ’Tush,

It can do me no damage’, adding further

That had the King in his last sickness failed,

The Cardinal’s and Sir Thomas Lovell’s heads

Should have gone off.

KING HENRY

Ha? What, so rank? Ah, ha!

There’s mischief in this man. Canst thou say further?

BUCKINGHAM’S SURVEYOR

I can, my liege.

KING HENRY

Proceed.

BIJCKINGHAM’S SURVEYOR Being at Greenwich,

After your highness had reproved the Duke

About Sir William Bulmer—

KING HENRY

I remember

Such a time, being my sworn servant,

The Duke retained him his. But on—what hence?

RIICKINGHAM’S SURVEYOR

‘If’, quoth he, ‘I for this had been committed’—

As to the Tower, I thought—‘I would have played

The part my father meant to act upon

Th’usurper Richard who, being at Salisbury,

Made suit to come in’s presence; which if granted,

As he made semblance of his duty, would

Have put his knife into him.’

KING HENRY

A giant traitor!

CARDINAL WOLSEY (to the Queen)

Now, madam, may his highness live in freedom,

And this man out of prison?

QUEEN KATHERINE

God mend all.

KING HENRY (to the Surveyor)

There’s something more would out of thee—what

sayst?

BUCKINGHAM’S SURVEYOR

After ‘the Duke his father’, with ‘the knife’,

He stretched him, and with one hand on his dagger,

Another spread on’s breast, mounting his eyes,

He did discharge a horrible oath whose tenor

Was, were he evil used, he would outgo

His father by as much as a performance

Does an irresolute purpose.

KING HENRY

There’s his period—

To sheathe his knife in us. He is attached.

Call him to present trial. If he may

Find mercy in the law, ’tis his; if none,

Let him not seek’t of us. By day and night,

He’s traitor to th’ height.

Flourish. Exeunt

1.3 Enter the Lord Chamberlain and Lord Sands

LORD CHAMBERLAIN

Is’t possible the spells of France should juggle

Men into such strange mysteries?

SANDS

New customs,

Though they be never so ridiculous—

Nay, let ’em be unmanly—yet are followed.

LORD CHAMBERLAIN

As far as I see, all the good our English

Have got by the late voyage is but merely

A fit or two o’th’ face. But they are shrewd ones,

For when they hold ’em 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 see ’em pace before, the spavin

Or spring-halt reigned among ’em.

LORD CHAMBERLAIN

Death, my lord,

Their clothes are after such a pagan cut to’t

That sure they’ve worn out Christendom.

Enter Sir Thomas Lovell

How now—

What news, Sir Thomas Lovell?

LOVELL