id stringlengths 16 16 | text stringlengths 151 2.3k | word_count int64 30 60 | source stringclasses 1 value |
|---|---|---|---|
twg_000000019800 | could not find His hour of speech a minutehe, my lady, Hath into monstrous habits put the graces That once were his, and is become as black As if besmeared in hell. Sit by us. You shall hear This was his gentleman in trustof him Things to strike honour sad. Bid him recount The fore-recited practices, whereof We cannot feel | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019801 | 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 himevery day It would infect his speechthat if the King Should without issue die, hell carry it so To make the sceptre his. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019802 | These very words Ive heard him utter to his son-in-law, Lord Abergavenny; to whom by oath he menaced 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 learned Lord | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019803 | 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019804 | minute With words of sovereignty. KING. How knowst thou this? SURVEYOR. Not long before your Highness sped to France, The Duke being at the Rose, within the parish Saint Laurence Poultney, did of me demand What was the speech among the Londoners Concerning the French journey. I replied, Men fear the French would prove perfidious, To the Kings danger. Presently | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019805 | 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 confessions seal He | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019806 | 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 nors heirs, Tell you the Dukeshall prosper. Bid him strive To gain the love o th commonalty. The Duke Shall govern England. QUEEN KATHERINE. If I know you well, You were the Dukes | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019807 | 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. Let him on. Go forward. SURVEYOR. On my soul, Ill speak but truth. I told my lord the Duke, by th devils illusions | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019808 | The monk might be deceived, and that twas dangerous For him 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 Cardinals and Sir Thomas Lovells heads Should | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019809 | have gone off. KING. Ha! What, so rank? Ah ha! Theres mischief in this man. Canst thou say further? SURVEYOR. I can, my liege. KING. Proceed. SURVEYOR. Being at Greenwich, After your Highness had reproved the Duke About Sir William Bulmer KING. I remember Of such a time, being my sworn servant, The Duke retained him his. But on. What | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019810 | hence? 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. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019811 | KING. A giant traitor! WOLSEY. Now, madam, may his Highness live in freedom, And this man out of prison? QUEEN KATHERINE. God mend all. KING. Theres something more would out of thee. What sayst? 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019812 | eyes, He did discharge a horrible oath, whose tenour Was, were he evil used, he would outgo His father by as much as a performance Does an irresolute purpose. KING. Theres 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019813 | him not seek t of us. By day and night, Hes traitor to th height! [_Exeunt._] SCENE III. An ante-chamber in the palace. Enter Lord Chamberlain and Lord Sandys. CHAMBERLAIN. Ist possible the spells of France should juggle Men into such strange mysteries? SANDYS. New customs, Though they be never so ridiculous Nay, let em be unmanlyyet are followed. CHAMBERLAIN. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019814 | 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. SANDYS. They have all new legs, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019815 | and lame ones. One would take it, That never saw em pace before, the spavin Or springhalt reigned among em. CHAMBERLAIN. Death! My lord, Their clothes are after such a pagan cut tot, That, sure, theyve worn out Christendom. Enter Sir Thomas Lovell. How now? What news, Sir Thomas Lovell? LOVELL. Faith, my lord, I hear of none but the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019816 | new proclamation Thats clapped upon the court gate. CHAMBERLAIN. What ist for? LOVELL. The reformation of our travelled gallants That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors. CHAMBERLAIN. Im glad tis there. Now I would pray our monsieurs To think an English courtier may be wise And never see the Louvre. LOVELL. They must either, For so run the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019817 | conditions, leave those remnants Of fool and feather that they got in France, With all their honourable points of ignorance 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 blistered breeches, and those types of travel, And understand again | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019818 | like honest men, Or pack to their old playfellows. There, I take it, They may, _cum privilegio, oui_ away The lag end of their lewdness and be laughed at. SANDYS. Tis time to give em physic, their diseases Are grown so catching. CHAMBERLAIN. What a loss our ladies Will have of these trim vanities! LOVELL. Ay, marry, There will be | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019819 | woe indeed, lords. The sly whoresons Have got a speeding trick to lay down ladies. A French song and a fiddle has no fellow. SANDYS. The devil fiddle em! I am glad they are going, For sure, theres no converting of em. Now An honest country lord, as I am, beaten A long time out of play, may bring his | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019820 | plainsong And have an hour of hearing, and, by r Lady, Held current music too. CHAMBERLAIN. Well said, Lord Sandys. Your colts tooth is not cast yet. SANDYS. No, my lord, Nor shall not while I have a stump. CHAMBERLAIN. Sir Thomas, Whither were you a-going? LOVELL. To the Cardinals. Your lordship is a guest too. CHAMBERLAIN. O, tis true. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019821 | This night he makes a supper, and a great one, To many lords and ladies. There will be The beauty of this kingdom, Ill assure you. LOVELL. That churchman bears a bounteous mind indeed, A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us. His dews fall everywhere. CHAMBERLAIN. No doubt hes noble; He had a black mouth that said | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019822 | other of him. SANDYS. He may, my lord; 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. CHAMBERLAIN. True, they are so, But few now give so great ones. My barge stays. Your lordship shall along. Come, good Sir Thomas, We shall | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019823 | be late else, which I would not be, For I was spoke to, with Sir Henry Guildford, This night to be comptrollers. SANDYS. I am your lordships. [_Exeunt._] SCENE IV. A Hall in York Place. Hautboys. A small table under a state for the Cardinal, a longer table for the guests. Then enter Anne Bullen and divers other Ladies and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019824 | Gentlemen as guests, at one door. At another door enter Sir Henry Guildford. GUILDFORD. 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 has brought with her One care abroad. He would have all as merry As, first, good company, good | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019825 | wine, good welcome Can make good people. Enter Lord Chamberlain, Lord Sandys and Sir Thomas Lovell. O, my lord, youre tardy. The very thought of this fair company Clapped wings to me. CHAMBERLAIN. You are young, Sir Harry Guildford. SANDYS. Sir Thomas Lovell, had the Cardinal But half my lay thoughts in him, some of these Should find a running | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019826 | banquet ere they rested, I think would better please em. By my life, They are a sweet society of fair ones. LOVELL. O, that your lordship were but now confessor To one or two of these! SANDYS. I would I were. They should find easy penance. LOVELL. Faith, how easy? SANDYS. As easy as a down bed would afford it. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019827 | CHAMBERLAIN. Sweet ladies, will it please you sit? Sir Harry, Place you that side; Ill take the charge of this. His Grace is entring. Nay, you must not freeze; Two women placed together makes cold weather. My Lord Sandys, you are one will keep em waking. Pray, sit between these ladies. SANDYS. By my faith, And thank your lordship. By | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019828 | your leave, sweet ladies. If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me; I had it from my father. ANNE. Was he mad, sir? SANDYS. 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._] CHAMBERLAIN. Well said, my lord. So, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019829 | now youre fairly seated. gentlemen, The penance lies on you if these fair ladies Pass away frowning. SANDYS. For my little cure, Let me alone. Hautboys. Enter Cardinal Wolsey and takes his state. WOLSEY. Youre 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019830 | you all, good health. [_Drinks._] SANDYS. Your Grace is noble. Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks And save me so much talking. WOLSEY. My Lord Sandys, I am beholding to you. Cheer your neighbours. Ladies, you are not merry. Gentlemen, Whose fault is this? SANDYS. The red wine first must rise In their fair cheeks, my | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019831 | lord; then we shall have em Talk us to silence. ANNE. You are a merry gamester, My Lord Sandys. SANDYS. Yes, if I make my play. Heres to your ladyship; and pledge it, madam, For tis to such a thing ANNE. You cannot show me. SANDYS. I told your Grace they would talk anon. [_Drum and trumpet. Chambers discharged._] WOLSEY. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019832 | Whats that? CHAMBERLAIN. Look out there, some of ye. [_Exit Servant._] WOLSEY. What warlike voice, And to what end, is this? Nay, ladies, fear not. By all the laws of war youre privileged. Enter Servant. CHAMBERLAIN. How now, what ist? SERVANT. A noble troop of strangers, For so they seem. Theyve left their barge and landed, And hither make, as | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019833 | great ambassadors From foreign princes. WOLSEY. Good Lord Chamberlain, Go, give em welcomeyou can speak the French tongue And pray receive em nobly, and conduct em Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty Shall shine at full upon them. Some attend him. [_Exit Chamberlain, attended. All rise, and tables removed._] You have now a broken banquet, but well mend | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019834 | it. A good digestion to you all; and once more I shower a welcome on ye. Welcome all! Hautboys. Enter King and others as masquers, habited like shepherds, ushered by the Lord Chamberlain. They pass directly before the Cardinal and gracefully salute him. A noble company! What are their pleasures? CHAMBERLAIN. Because they speak no English, thus they prayed To | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019835 | tell your Grace: that having heard by fame Of this so noble and so fair assembly This night to meet here, they could do no less, Out of the great respect they bear to beauty, But leave their flocks and, under your fair conduct, Crave leave to view these ladies and entreat An hour of revels with em. WOLSEY. Say, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019836 | Lord Chamberlain, They have done my poor house grace; for which I pay em A thousand thanks and pray em take their pleasures. [_The masquers choose ladies. The King chooses Anne Bullen._] KING. The fairest hand I ever touched! O beauty, Till now I never knew thee. [_Music. Dance._] WOLSEY. My lord! CHAMBERLAIN. Your Grace? WOLSEY. Pray tell em thus | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019837 | much from me: There should be one amongst em, by his person More worthy this place than myself, to whom, If I but knew him, with my love and duty I would surrender it. CHAMBERLAIN. I will, my lord. [_Whispers with the Masquers._] WOLSEY. What say they? CHAMBERLAIN. Such a one they all confess There is indeed, which they would | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019838 | have your Grace Find out, and he will take it. WOLSEY. Let me see, then. By all your good leaves, gentlemen; here Ill make My royal choice. KING. [_Unmasking_.] Ye have found him, Cardinal. You hold a fair assembly; you do well, lord. You are a churchman, or Ill tell you, Cardinal, I should judge now unhappily. WOLSEY. I am | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019839 | glad Your Grace is grown so pleasant. KING. My Lord Chamberlain, Prithee come hither. What fair ladys that? CHAMBERLAIN. Ant please your Grace, Sir Thomas Bullens daughter, The Viscount Rochford, one of her Highness women. KING. By heaven, she is a dainty one. Sweetheart, I were unmannerly to take you out And not to kiss you. A health, gentlemen! Let | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019840 | it go round. WOLSEY. Sir Thomas Lovell, is the banquet ready I th privy chamber? LOVELL. Yes, my lord. WOLSEY. Your Grace, I fear, with dancing is a little heated. KING. I fear, too much. WOLSEY. Theres fresher air, my lord, In the next chamber. KING. Lead in your ladies, every one. Sweet partner, I must not yet forsake you. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019841 | Lets be merry, Good my Lord Cardinal, I have half a dozen healths To drink to these fair ladies, and a measure To lead em once again, and then lets dream Whos best in favour. Let the music knock it. [_Exeunt with trumpets._] ACT II SCENE I. Westminster. A street. Enter two Gentlemen at several doors. FIRST GENTLEMAN. Whither away | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019842 | so fast? SECOND GENTLEMAN. O, God save ye. Even to the Hall, to hear what shall become Of the great Duke of Buckingham. FIRST GENTLEMAN. Ill save you That labour, sir. Alls now done but the ceremony Of bringing back the prisoner. SECOND GENTLEMAN. Were you there? FIRST GENTLEMAN. Yes, indeed, was I. SECOND GENTLEMAN. Pray speak what has happened. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019843 | FIRST GENTLEMAN. You may guess quickly what. SECOND GENTLEMAN. Is he found guilty? FIRST GENTLEMAN. Yes, truly is he, and condemned upont. SECOND GENTLEMAN. I am sorry fort. FIRST GENTLEMAN. So are a number more. SECOND GENTLEMAN. But pray, how passed it? FIRST GENTLEMAN. Ill tell you in a little. The great Duke Came to the bar, where to his | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019844 | accusations He pleaded still not guilty and alleged Many sharp reasons to defeat the law. The Kings attorney on the contrary Urged on the examinations, proofs, confessions Of divers witnesses, which the Duke desired To have brought _viva voce_ to his face; At which appeared against him his surveyor, Sir Gilbert Peck his chancellor, and John Car, Confessor to him, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019845 | with that devil monk, Hopkins, that made this mischief. SECOND GENTLEMAN. That was he That fed him with his prophecies? FIRST GENTLEMAN. The same. All these accused him strongly, which he fain Would have flung from him, but, indeed he could not. And so his peers, upon this evidence, Have found him guilty of high treason. Much He spoke, and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019846 | learnedly, for life, but all Was either pitied in him or forgotten. SECOND GENTLEMAN. After all this, how did he bear himself? FIRST GENTLEMAN. When he was brought again to th bar to hear His knell rung out, his judgement, he was stirred With such an agony, he sweat extremely And something spoke in choler, ill and hasty. But he | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019847 | fell to himself again, and sweetly In all the rest showed a most noble patience. SECOND GENTLEMAN. I do not think he fears death. FIRST GENTLEMAN. Sure he does not; He never was so womanish. The cause He may a little grieve at. SECOND GENTLEMAN. Certainly The Cardinal is the end of this. FIRST GENTLEMAN. Tis likely, By all conjectures: | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019848 | first, Kildares attainder, Then deputy of Ireland, who removed, Earl Surrey was sent thither, and in haste too, Lest he should help his father. SECOND GENTLEMAN. That trick of state Was a deep envious one. FIRST GENTLEMAN. At his return No doubt he will requite it. This is noted, And generally, whoever the King favours, The Cardinal instantly will find | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019849 | employment, And far enough from court too. SECOND GENTLEMAN. 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 Buckingham, The mirror of all courtesy. Enter Buckingham from his arraignment. Tipstaves before him, the axe with the edge towards him, Halberds on each | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019850 | side, accompanied with Sir Thomas Lovell, Sir Nicholas Vaux, Sir William Sandys and common people. FIRST GENTLEMAN. Stay there, sir, And see the noble ruined man you speak of. SECOND GENTLEMAN. Lets stand close and behold him. BUCKINGHAM. All good people, You that thus far have come to pity me, Hear what I say, and then go home and lose | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019851 | me. I have this day received a traitors judgement, 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; T has done, upon the premises, but justice. But those that sought | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019852 | it I could wish more Christians. Be what they will, I heartily forgive em. Yet let em look they glory not in mischief, Nor build their evils on the graves of great men, For then my guiltless blood must cry against em. For further life in this world I neer hope, Nor will I sue, although the King have mercies | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019853 | More than I dare make faults. You few that loved me And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham, His noble friends and fellows, whom to leave Is only bitter to him, only dying, Go with me like good angels to my end, And as the long divorce of steel falls on me, Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019854 | And lift my soul to heaven. Lead on, i Gods name. LOVELL. I do beseech your Grace, for charity, If ever any malice in your heart Were hid against me, now to forgive me frankly. BUCKINGHAM. Sir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive you As I would be forgiven. I forgive all. There cannot be those numberless offences Gainst me | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019855 | that I cannot take peace with. No black envy Shall mark 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 prayers Yet are the Kings and, till my soul forsake, Shall cry for blessings on him. May he live Longer than I have time | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019856 | to tell his years; Ever beloved and loving may his rule be; And when old Time shall lead him to his end, Goodness and he fill up one monument! LOVELL. To th waterside I must conduct your Grace, Then give my charge up to Sir Nicholas Vaux, Who undertakes you to your end. VAUX. Prepare there! The Duke is coming. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019857 | See the barge be ready, And fit it with such furniture as suits The greatness of his person. BUCKINGHAM. 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 Bohun. Yet I am richer than my base accusers, That never knew | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019858 | what truth meant. I now seal it, And with that blood will make em one day groan fort. My noble father, Henry of Buckingham, Who first raised head against usurping Richard, Flying for succour to his servant Banister, Being distressed, was by that wretch betrayed, And, without trial, fell. Gods peace be with him. Henry the Seventh succeeding, truly pitying | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019859 | My fathers loss, like a most royal prince, Restored 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019860 | 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 loved 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019861 | 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019862 | long weary life is come upon me. Farewell. And when you would say something that is sad, Speak how I fell. I have done; and God forgive me. [_Exeunt Duke and train._] FIRST GENTLEMAN. O, this is full of pity. Sir, it calls, I fear, too many curses on their heads That were the authors. SECOND GENTLEMAN. If the Duke | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019863 | be guiltless, Tis full of woe. Yet I can give you inkling Of an ensuing evil, if it fall, Greater than this. FIRST GENTLEMAN. Good angels keep it from us! What may it be? You do not doubt my faith, sir? SECOND GENTLEMAN. This secret is so weighty, twill require A strong faith to conceal it. FIRST GENTLEMAN. Let me | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019864 | have it. I do not talk much. SECOND GENTLEMAN. I am confident; You shall, sir. Did you not of late days hear A buzzing of a separation Between the King and Katherine? FIRST GENTLEMAN. Yes, but it held not; For when the King once heard it, out of anger He sent command to the Lord Mayor straight To stop the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019865 | rumour and allay those tongues That durst disperse it. SECOND GENTLEMAN. But that slander, sir, Is found a truth now, for it grows again Fresher than eer 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, possessed him with a scruple | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019866 | That will undo her. To confirm this too, Cardinal Campeius is arrived, and lately, As all think, for this business. FIRST GENTLEMAN. 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 purposed. SECOND GENTLEMAN. I think you have hit the mark. But ist not | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019867 | cruel That she should feel the smart of this? The Cardinal Will have his will, and she must fall. FIRST GENTLEMAN. Tis woeful. We are too open here to argue this. Lets think in private more. [_Exeunt._] SCENE II. An ante-chamber in the palace. Enter Lord Chamberlain, reading this letter. CHAMBERLAIN. _My lord, the horses your lordship sent for, with | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019868 | all the care 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 Cardinals, by commission and main power, took em from me, with this reason: his master would be served before a subject, if | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019869 | not before the King; which stopped our mouths, sir._ I fear he will indeed. Well, let him have them. He will have all, I think. Enter to the Lord Chamberlain, the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk. NORFOLK. Well met, my Lord Chamberlain. CHAMBERLAIN. Good day to both your Graces. SUFFOLK. How is the King employed? CHAMBERLAIN. I left him private, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019870 | Full of sad thoughts and troubles. NORFOLK. Whats the cause? CHAMBERLAIN. It seems the marriage with his brothers wife Has crept too near his conscience. SUFFOLK. No, his conscience Has crept too near another lady. NORFOLK. Tis so. This is the Cardinals doing, the king-cardinal. That blind priest, like the eldest son of Fortune, Turns what he list. The King | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019871 | will know him one day. SUFFOLK. Pray God he do! Hell never know himself else. NORFOLK. How holily he works in all his business, And with what zeal! For, now he has cracked the league Between us and the Emperor, the Queens great nephew, He dives into the Kings soul and there scatters Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience, Fears | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019872 | and despairsand 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019873 | greatest stroke of fortune falls, Will bless the King. And is not this course pious? CHAMBERLAIN. Heaven keep me from such counsel! Tis most true: These news are everywhere, every tongue speaks em, And every true heart weeps fort. All that dare Look into these affairs see this main end, The French kings sister. Heaven will one day open The | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019874 | Kings eyes, that so long have slept upon This bold bad man. SUFFOLK. And free us from his slavery. NORFOLK. We had need pray, And heartily, for our deliverance, Or this imperious man will work us all From princes into pages. All mens honours Lie like one lump before him, to be fashioned Into what pitch he please. SUFFOLK. For | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019875 | me, my lords, I love him not, nor fear him; theres my creed. As I am made without him, so Ill stand, If the King please. His curses and his blessings Touch me alike, theyre breath I not believe in. I knew him, and I know him; so I leave him To him that made him proud, the Pope. NORFOLK. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019876 | Lets in, And with some other business put the King From these sad thoughts that work too much upon him. My lord, youll bear us company? CHAMBERLAIN. Excuse me; The King has sent me otherwhere. Besides, Youll find a most unfit time to disturb him. Health to your lordships. NORFOLK. Thanks, my good Lord Chamberlain. [_Exit Lord Chamberlain, and the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019877 | King draws the curtain and sits reading pensively._] SUFFOLK. How sad he looks! Sure, he is much afflicted. KING. Whos there? Ha? NORFOLK. Pray God he be not angry. KING. Whos there, I say? How dare you thrust yourselves Into my private meditations? Who am I? Ha? NORFOLK. A gracious king that pardons all offences Malice neer meant. Our breach | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019878 | of duty this way Is business of estate, in which we come To know your royal pleasure. KING. Ye are too bold. Go to; Ill make ye know your times of business. Is this an hour for temporal affairs, ha? Enter Wolsey and Campeius with a commission. Whos there? My good Lord Cardinal? O my Wolsey, The quiet of my | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019879 | wounded conscience, Thou art a cure fit for a king. [_To Campeius_.] Youre welcome, Most learned reverend sir, into our kingdom; Use us and it. [_To Wolsey_.] My good lord, have great care I be not found a talker. WOLSEY. Sir, you cannot. I would your Grace would give us but an hour Of private conference. KING. [_To Norfolk and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019880 | Suffolk_.] We are busy. Go. NORFOLK. [A_side to Suffolk_.] This priest has no pride in him? SUFFOLK. [_Aside to Norfolk_.] Not to speak of. I would not be so sick, though, for his place. But this cannot continue. NORFOLK. [_Aside to Suffolk_.] If it do, Ill venture one have-at-him. SUFFOLK. [_Aside to Norfolk_.] I another. [_Exeunt Norfolk and Suffolk._] WOLSEY. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019881 | Your Grace has given a precedent of wisdom Above all princes in committing freely Your scruple to the voice of Christendom. Who can be angry now? What envy reach you? The Spaniard, tied by blood and favour to her, Must now confess, if they have any goodness, The trial just and noble. All the clerks I mean the learned ones | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019882 | in Christian kingdoms Have their free voices. Rome, the nurse of judgement, Invited by your noble self, hath sent One general tongue unto us, this good man, This just and learned priest, Cardinal Campeius, Whom once more I present unto your Highness. KING. And once more in mine arms I bid him welcome, And thank the holy conclave for their | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019883 | loves. They have sent me such a man I would have wished for. CAMPEIUS. Your Grace must needs deserve all strangers loves, You are so noble. To your Highness hand I tender my commission, by whose virtue, The court of Rome commanding, you, my Lord Cardinal of York, are joined with me their servant In the unpartial judging of this | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019884 | business. KING. Two equal men. The Queen shall be acquainted Forthwith for what you come. Wheres Gardiner? WOLSEY. I know your Majesty has always loved her So dear in heart not to deny her that A woman of less place might ask by law: Scholars allowed freely to argue for her. KING. Ay, and the best she shall have, and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019885 | my favour To him that does best. God forbid else. Cardinal, Prithee call Gardiner to me, my new secretary. I find him a fit fellow. Enter Gardiner. WOLSEY. [_Aside to Gardiner_.] Give me your hand. Much joy and favour to you; You are the Kings now. GARDINER. [_Aside to Wolsey_.] But to be commanded For ever by your Grace, whose | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019886 | hand has raised me. KING. Come hither, Gardiner. [_The King and Gardiner walk and whisper._] CAMPEIUS. My lord of York, was not one Doctor Pace In this mans place before him? WOLSEY. Yes, he was. CAMPEIUS. Was he not held a learned man? WOLSEY. Yes, surely. CAMPEIUS. Believe me, theres an ill opinion spread, then Even of yourself, Lord Cardinal. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019887 | WOLSEY. How? Of me? CAMPEIUS. They will not stick to say you envied him And fearing he would risehe was so virtuous Kept him a foreign man still, which so grieved him That he ran mad and died. WOLSEY. Heavns peace be with him! Thats Christian care enough. For living murmurers Theres places of rebuke. He was a fool, For | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019888 | he would needs be virtuous. That good fellow, If I command him, follows my appointment. I will have none so near else. Learn this, brother: We live not to be griped by meaner persons. KING. Deliver this with modesty to th Queen. [_Exit Gardiner._] The most convenient place that I can think of For such receipt of learning is Blackfriars. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019889 | There ye shall meet about this weighty business. My Wolsey, see it furnished. O, my lord, Would it not grieve an able man to leave So sweet a bedfellow? But, conscience, conscience! O, tis a tender place, and I must leave her. [_Exeunt._] SCENE III. An ante-chamber of the Queens apartments. Enter Anne Bullen and an Old Lady. ANNE. Not | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019890 | for that neither. Heres the pang that pinches: His Highness having lived so long with her, and she So good a lady that no tongue could ever Pronounce dishonour of herby my life, She never knew harm-doingO, now, after So many courses of the sun enthroned, Still growing in a majesty and pomp, the which To leave a thousandfold more | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019891 | bitter than Tis sweet at first t acquireafter this process, To give her the avaunt, it is a pity Would move a monster. OLD LADY. Hearts of most hard temper Melt and lament for her. ANNE. O, Gods will! Much better She neer had known pomp; thought be temporal, Yet if that quarrel, Fortune, do divorce It from the bearer, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019892 | tis a sufferance panging As soul and bodys severing. OLD LADY. Alas, poor lady, Shes a stranger now again. ANNE. So much the more Must pity drop upon her. Verily, I swear, tis better to be lowly born And range with humble livers in content Than to be perked up in a glistring grief, And wear a golden sorrow. OLD | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019893 | LADY. Our content Is our best having. ANNE. By my troth and maidenhead, I would not be a queen. OLD LADY. Beshrew me, I would, And venture maidenhead fort; and so would you, For all this spice of your hypocrisy. You, that have so fair parts of woman on you, Have too a womans heart, which ever yet Affected eminence, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019894 | wealth, sovereignty; Which, to say sooth, are blessings; and which gifts, Saving your mincing, the capacity Of your soft cheveril conscience would receive, If you might please to stretch it. ANNE. Nay, good troth. OLD LADY. Yes, troth and troth. You would not be a queen? ANNE. No, not for all the riches under heaven. OLD LADY. Tis strange. A | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019895 | threepence bowed would hire me, Old as I am, to queen it. But I pray you, What think you of a duchess? Have you limbs To bear that load of title? ANNE. No, in truth. OLD LADY. Then you are weakly made. Pluck off a little. I would not be a young count in your way For more than blushing | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019896 | comes to. If your back Cannot vouchsafe this burden, tis too weak Ever to get a boy. ANNE. How you do talk! I swear again I would not be a queen For all the world. OLD LADY. In faith, for little England Youd venture an emballing. I myself Would for Caernarfonshire, although there longed No more to th crown but | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019897 | that. Lo, who comes here? Enter Lord Chamberlain. CHAMBERLAIN. Good morrow, ladies. What weret worth to know The secret of your conference? ANNE. My good lord, Not your demand; it values not your asking. Our mistress sorrows we were pitying. CHAMBERLAIN. It was a gentle business, and becoming The action of good women. There is hope All will be well. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019898 | ANNE. Now, I pray God, amen! CHAMBERLAIN. You bear a gentle mind, and heavenly blessings Follow such creatures. That you may, fair lady, Perceive I speak sincerely, and high notes Taen of your many virtues, the Kings Majesty Commends his good opinion of you, and Does purpose honour to you no less flowing Than Marchioness of Pembroke, to which title | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019899 | A thousand pound a year annual support Out of his grace he adds. ANNE. I do not know What kind of my obedience I should tender. More than my all is nothing; nor my prayers Are not words duly hallowed, nor my wishes More worth than empty vanities; yet prayers and wishes Are all I can return. Beseech your lordship, | 60 | gutenberg |
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.