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^ 



THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE LIFE OF 

KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 



o- 




SHAKESPEARE 



KING HENRY THE EIGHTH 



: i f * r/ ' 



WITH 



INTRODUCTION AND NOTES 



BY 

K. DEIGHTON 



JEonhon 
MACMILLAN AND CO. 

AND NEW YORK 
1895 

All HghtM reserved 



V 



-;^ 









CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

(^ Introduction, , , , vii 

\ King Henry the Eighth, ,,..,. 1 

' Notes, 101 

Index to Notes, , . 181 



INTRODUCTION. 

As to the date at which Heniy the Eighth was written Date of the 
we have no evidence whatever. Even as to the date 
when it was first acted there is no certain proof; 
while if that more generally accepted could be settled 
beyond doubt, it would still remain a question whether 
the play was then a new one. All that we know is, 
that a play which seems to have been the one we now 
have under the title of Henry the Eighth was produced 
at the Globe Theatre on the 29th of June, 1613, and 
that the theatre was on that occasion accidentally burnt 
to the ground. Of this event we have three accounts 
written within a few days of its occurrence. Thus, in 
the Harleian Manuscripts, a letter from Thomas Lorkin 
to Sir Thomas Puckering, dated "this last day of 
June, 1613," relates that "No longer since than ycb- 
terday, while Bourbage his companie were acting at 
the Globe the play of Henry viii., and there shooting 
of certayne chambers in way of triumph, the fire 
catch'd," etc. . Sir H. Wotton, writing on the 6th of 
July of "a new play called All Is True^ representing 
some principal pieces of the reign of Henry viiith," 
similarly ascribes the accident to "certain cannons 
shot oif at the King's entry to a masque at the Car- 

• ■ 



viii KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 

dinal Wolsey's house"; and John Chamberlain, in a 
letter to Sir Ralph Winwood, dated July 12th, describes 
"the burning of the Globe, or playhouse, on the Bank- 
side, on St. Peter's day, which fell out by a peale of 
chambers, that I know not on what occasion were to 
be used in the play." Further, Howes, the continuator 
of Stowe's " Annales," writing two years later, records 
that the fire took place, "the house being filled with 
people, to behold the play, viz., of Henry the 8." 
From these various accounts, and from the fact that, 
in H, VIII. i. 4, we have the stage direction, "Cham- 
bers [i.e. small cannon] discharged," it may be taken 
as pretty well established that the play then represented 
was our Henry the Eighth, and that it originally had a 
second title, viz., All Is True. 
Disputed If there are doubts as to the date of the play, these 

authorship of i» • • _x i. j 'ii. j.i 

the Play. are of minor importance when compared with the 
question of its authorship. Doubts on this point are of 
long standing. ^Jo hnson ob served that the genius. q£. 
Shakespeare comes in and goes out with Katharine; 
Coleridge, recognizing the strangeness of its stfucttrre, 
spoke of the play as a sort of historical masque ; Ulrici 
regarded it as meant only for a first part, to be fol- 
lowed by a second part, in which what was incomplete 
would be made complete ; Roderick, in Edwards' Canons 
of Criticism drew attention to the metre of the play as 
being difi*erent from anything to be elsewhere found 
in Shakespeare's undoubted work. But the first person 
thoroughly to investigate the matter was Mr. Spedding, 
who in a paper entitled " Who Wrote Shakspere's 
Henry VHI.?" published in The Gentleman^ s Magazine 
for August, 1850, arrived at the conclusion that two, 



INTRODUCTION. ix 

if not three, hands are to be found in the play, more 
than half of which he assigned to Fletcher. This con- 
clusion is based upon two considerations: (1) the 
incoherence of the general design of the play; (2) 
metrical peculiarities. Having glanced at the latter, 
Mr. Sped Hing wn't^p^ "T ahnll have something further 
to say on these points presently. I mention them 
here only to show that critical observers have been 
long conscious of certain singularities in this play which 
require to be accounted for. And, leaving the critics, 
I mig ht probabl y, appeal to the individual consciousness 
ofTach reader, and ask him whether he has not always 
felt that, in spite of some great scenes which have 
Juad£LactDra and actresses famous, and many beautiful 
speeches which adorn our books of extracts (and which, 
by tEe way, lose little or nothing by separation from 
their context, a most rare thing in Shakspere), the 
effect of this play as a whole is weak and disappointing. 
The truth is, th at the interest, instead of rising towards 
the end, falls away utterly, and leaves us in the last 
act among persons whom we scarcely know, and events 
for which we do not care* ^The strongest sympathies 
that have been awakened in us run opposite to the 
course of the action. Our sympathy is for the grief 
and goodness of Queen Katharine, while the course 
of the action requires us to entertain as a theme of 
joy and compensatory satisfaction the coronation of 
Anne Bullen and the birth of her daughter; which 
are, in fact, a part of Katharine's injury, and amount 
to little less than the ultimate triumph of wrong. 
For throughout the play the king's cause is not only 
felt by us, but represented to us, as a bad one. We 



X KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 

hear, indeed, of conscientious scruples as to the legality 
of his first marriage ; but we are not made, nor indeed 
asked, to believe that they are sincere, or to recognize 
in his new marriage either the hand of Providence, or 
the consummation of any worthy object, or the victory 
of any of those more common frailties of humanity 
with which we can sympathize. The mere caprice of 
passion drives the king into the commission of what 
seems a great iniquity ; our compassion for the victim 
of it is elaborately excited ; no attempt is made to 
awaken any counter-sympathy for him : yet his passion 
has its way, and is crowned with all felicity, present 
and to come. The effect is very much like that which 
would have been produced by the Wintei's Tale, if 
Hermione had died in the fourth act, in consequence 
of the jealous tyranny of Leontes, and the play had 
ended with the coronation of a new queen and the 
christening of a new heir, no period of remorse inter- 
vening. It is as if Nathan's rebuke to David had 
ended, not with the doom of death to the child just 
born, but with a prophetic promise of the felicities of 
Solomon. 

"This main defect is sufficient to mar the effect of 
the play as a whole. But there is another, which 
though less vital is not less unaccountable. The 
greater part of the fifth act, in which the interest 
ought to be gathering to a head, is occupied >vith 
matters in which we have not been prepared to take 
any interest by what went before, and on which no 
interest is reflected by what comes after. The scenes 
in the gallery and council-chamber, though full of life 
and vigour, and in point of execution not unworthy 



INTRODUCTION. xi 

of Shakspere, are utterly irrelevant to the business of 
the play; for what have we to do with the quarrel 
between Gardiner and Cranmer 1 Nothing in the play 
is explained by it, nothing depends upon it. It is 
used only (so far as the argument is concerned) as a 
preface for introducing Cranmer as godfather to Queen 
Elizabeth, which might have been done as a matter 
of course without any preface at all. The scenes them- 
selves are indeed both picturesque and characteristic 
and historical, and might probably have been intro- 
duced with excellent effect into a dramatized life of 
Henry VIII. But, historically, they do not belong to 
the place where they are introduced here, and poet- 
ically, they have in this place no value, but the 
reverse. 

"With the fate of Wolsey, again, in whom our 
second interest centres, the business of this last act 
does not connect itself any more than with that of 
Queen Katharine. The fate of Wolsey would have 
made a noble subject for a tragedy in itself, and might 
very well have been combined with the tragedy of 
Katharine; but, as an introduction to the festive 
solemnity with which the play concludes, the one 
seems to me as inappropriate as the other. 

" Nor can the existence of these defects be accounted 
for by any inherent difficulty in the subject. It 
cannot be said that they were in any way forced 
upon the dramatist by the facts of the story. The 
incidents of the reign of Henry VIII. could not, it 
is true, like those of an ancient tradition or an Italian 
novel, be altered at pleasure to suit the purposes of 
the artist; but they admitted of many different com- 



xii KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 

binations, by which the effect of the play might have 
been modified to almost any extent, either at the be- 
ginning or the end. By taking in a larger period 
and carrying the history on to the birth of Anne 
BuUen's still-born son and her own execution, it would 
have yielded the argument of a great tragedy and tale of 
retributiv,(fe justice. O r, on the other hand, by throwing 
the sorrows of Katharine more into the background, 
by bringing into prominence the real scruples which 
were in fact entertained by learned and religious men 
and prevalent among the people, by representing the 
question of the divorce as the battle-ground on which 
the question between Popery and Protestantism was 
tried out, by throwing a strong light upon the engaging 
personal qualities of Anne Bullen herself, and by con- 
necting with the birth of Elizabeth the ultimate tri- 
umph of the reformed religion, of which she was to 
become so distinguished a champion, our sympathies 
might have been turned that way, and so reconciled 
to the prosperous consummation. But it is evident 
that no attempt has been made to do this. The afflic- 
tions, the virtue, and the patience of Katharine are 
elaborately exhibited. To these and to the pathetic 
penitence of Wolsey our attention is especially com- 
mended in the prologue, and with them it is entirely 
occupied to the end of the fourth act. Anne Bullen 
is kept almost out of sight. Such reason and religion 
as there were in Henry's scruples are scarcely touched 
upon, and hardly a word is introduced to remind us 
that the dispute with the Pope was the fore-runner 
of the Reformation. 

"I know of no other play in Shakspere which is 



INTRODUCTION. xiii 

chargeable with a fault like this, none in which the 
moral sj^mpathy of the spectator is not carried along 
with the main current of action to the end. . . . 
The singularity of Henry VIII, is that, while four-fifths 
of the play are occupied in matters which make us 
incapable of mirth, . the remaining fifth is 

devoted to joy and triumph, and ends with ^fiiversal 
festivity." . Mr. Spedding then relates the 

circumstances which led him to a close examination of 
the versification of the play, the result of which " was 
a clear conviction that at least two different hands 
had been employed in the composition of Henry VIIL ; 
if not three; and that they had worked, not together, 
but alternately upon distinct portions of it." 

Analysing the play, act by act and scene b^ scene, 
with reference to the internal evidence of style and 
treatment, Mr. Spedding continues: — "The opening of 
the play, — the conversation between Buckingham, Nor- 
folk, and Abergavenny, — seemed to have the full stamp 
of Shakspere, in his latest manner : the same close- 
packed expression; the same life, and reality, and 
freshness; the same rapid and abrupt turnings of 
thought, so quick that language can hardly follow fast 
enough; the same impatient activity of intellect and 
fancy, which having once disclosed an idea cannot 
wait to work it orderly out ; the same daring confidence 
in the resources of language, which plunges headlong 
into a sentence without knowing how it is to come 
forth; the same careless metre which disdains to pro- 
duce its harmonious effects by the ordinary devices, 
yet is evidently subject to a master of' harmony ; the 
same entire freedom from book-language and common- 



XIV KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 

place ; all the qualities, in short, which distinguish the 
magical hand which has never yet been successfully 
imitated. 

"In the scene in the council-chamber which follows 
(Act i. Sc. 2), where the characters of Katharine and 
Wolsey are brought out, I found the same characteristics i^ 
equally strong. 

"But the instant I entered upon the third scene, 
in which the Lord Chamberlain, Lord Sands, and Lord 
Lovel converse, I was conscious of a total change. I 
felt as if I had passed suddenly out of the language 
of nature into the language of the stage, or of some 
conventional mode of conversation. The structure of 
the verse was quite different and full of mannerism. 
The expression became suddenly diffuse and languid. 
The wit wanted mirth and character. And all this was 
equally true of the supper scene which closes the first 
Act. 

"The second Act brought me back to the tragic 
vein, but it was not the tragic vein of Shakspere. 
When I compared the eager, impetuous, and fiery 
language of Buckingham in the first Act with the 
languid and measured cadences of his farewell speech, 
I felt that the difference was too great to be accounted 
for by the mere change of situation, without supposing 
also a change of writers. The presence of death pro- 
duces great changes in men, but no such change as we 
have here. 

" When in like manner I compared the Henry and 
Wolsey of the scene which follows (Act. ii. Sc. 2) with 
the Henry and Wolsey of the council-chamber (Act i. 
Sc. 2), I perceived a difference scarcely less striking. 



INTRODUCTION. XV 

The dialogue, through the whole scene, sounded still 
slow and artificial. 

"The next scene brought another sudden change. 
And, as in passing from the second to the third scene 
of the first Act, I had seemed to be passing all at 
once out of the language of nature into that of con- 
vention, so in passing from the second to the third 
scene of the second Act (in which Anne Bullen appears, 
I may say for the first time, for in the supper scene 
she was merely a conventional court lady without any 
character at all), I seemed to pass not less suddenly 
from convention back again into nature. And when I 
considered that this short and otherwise insignificant 
passage contains all that we ever see of Anne (for it 
is necessary to forget her former appearance), and yet 
how clearly the character comes out, how very a woman 
she is, and yet how distinguishable from any other 
individual woman, I had no difficulty in acknowledging 
that the sketch came from the same hand which drew 
Perdita. 

"Next follows the famous trial scene. And here I 

could as little doubt that I recognized the same hand 

to which we owe the trial of Hermione. When I 

compared the language of Henry and of Wolsey 

throughout this scene to the end of the Act, with their 

language in the council-chamber (Act i. Sc. 2), I found 

that it corresponded in all essential features: when I 

compared it with their language in the second scene 

of the second Act, I perceived that it was altogether 

different. Kat herine a lso> as she appears in this scene, 

wasjxacUy the same person as she was. in- the council- 

■cbAmhftr^ _but_wh-eaJL-went oil to the. first jscenfi.i)f the 

b 



xvi KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 

thuxLAct^ which. represents her- iuterview with Wolsey 
and CampeiuSj. I found her as. much changed as 
Backingham i^ds after his senteiice, though without 
any fl.lf.flr<^t.i>p of circumstances to account for an 
alteration of temper. Indeed the whole of this scene 

{seemed to have all the peculiarities of Fletcher, both 
in conception, language, and versification, without a 
single feature that reminded me of Shakspere; and, 
since in both passages the true narrative of Cavendish is 
followed minutely and carefully, and both are therefore 
copies from the same original and in the same style of 
art, it was the more easy to compare them with each 
gather. 

*'In the next scene (Act iii Sc. 2) I seemed again 
to get out of Fletcher into Shakspere ; though probably 
not into Shakspere pure; a scene by another hand 
perhaps which Shakspere had only re-modelled, or a 
scene by Shakspere which another hand had worked 
upon to make it fit the place. The speeches inter- 
changed between Henry and Wolsey seemed to be 
entirely Shakspere*s; but in the altercation between 
Wolsey and the lords which follows, I could recognize 
little or nothing of his peculiar manner, while many 
passages were strongly marked with the favourite 
Fletcherian cadence ; ^ and as for the famous " Farewell, 
a long farewell," etc., though associated by means of 
Enfield's Speaker with my earliest notions of Shakspere, 
it appeared (now that my mind was opened to entertain 
the doubt) to fielong entirely and unquestionably to 
Fletcher. 

*In a footnote Mr. Spedding quotes the lines, "Now I feel 
, . , wi^rrai^t for them," etc, 



INTRODUCTION. xvii 

"Of the 4th Act I did not so well know what to 
think. . For the most part it seemed to bear evidence 
of a more vigorous hand than Fletcher's, with less 
ma nnerism, especially in the description of the corona- 
tion, and the character of Wolsey ; and yet it had not 
to my^mind the freshness and originality of Shakspere. 
l£-4 vaa pat hetic and graceful, but one could see how 
jt^waa done.- -^^tharine's last speeches, however, 
smacked strongly again of Fletcher. And altogether 
it seemed to me. that if this Act had occurred in one 
o f the p lays written by Beaumont and Fletcher in con- 
junction, it would probably have been thought that 
both, of- them had had a hand in it. ' 

" The first scene of the 5th Act, and the opening of 
the second, I should again have confidently ascribed to 
Shakspere, were it not that the whole passage seemed 
so strangely out of place. I could only suppose (what 
may indeed be supposed well enough if my conjecture 
with regard to the authorship of the several parts be 
correct), that the task of putting the whole together 
had been left to an inferior hand; in which case I 
should consider this to be a genuine piece of Shak- 
spere's work, spoiled by being introduced where it had 
no business. In the execution of the christening scene, 
on the other hand (in spite again of the earliest and 
strongest associations), I could see no evidence of 
Shakspere's hand at all; while in point of design it 
seemed inconceivable that a judgment like his could 
have been content with a conclusion so little in har- 
mony with the prevailing spirit and purpose of the 
piece." 

Passing to the exclusive consideration of metrical 



xviii KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 

peculiarities, Mr. Spedding proposes the following test 
to any one who should think that the inequality of 
workmanship in different parts may be accounted for 
on the supposition that the play was written by Shake- 
speare at different periods: ''Let him read an act in 
each of the following plays, taking them in succession : 
Two Gentlemen of Ferona; Richard II,; Richard III. ; 
Romeo and Jtdiei ; Henry IF. (part 2) / As You IMe It ; 
Twelfth Night ; Measure for Measure ; Lear ; Antony and 
Cleopatra ; Coriolanus ; fVintet^s Tale ; and then let him 
say at what period of Shakspere's life he can be sup- 
posed to have written such lines as these — 

All good people, 
Yon that thus far have come to pity me. 
Hear what I say, and then go home and lose me. 
I have this day received 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, on the premises, but justice : 
But those who sought it I could wish more Christians. 
Be what they will, I heartily forgive them : 
Yet let them look they glory not in mischief 
Nor build their evils on the graves of great men ; 
For then my guiltless blood must cry against them. 
For further life in this life I ne'er hope. 
Nor will I sue, although the King have mercies, 
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, 
And lift my soul to heaven 1 



« 



INTRODUCTION. 

''If I am not much mistaken, he will be convinced 
that Shakspere's style never passed, nor ever could 
have passed, through this phase. In his earlier plays, 
when his versification was regular and his language 
comparatively diffuse, there is none of the studied 
variety of cadence which we find here; and by the 
time his versification had acquired more variety, the 
current of his thought had become more gushing, rapid, 
and full of eddies ; not to add that at no period what- 
ever in the development of his style was the propor- 
tion of thought and fancy to words and images so 
small as it appears in this speech of Buckingham's. 
Perhaps there is no passage in Shakspere which so 
nearly resembles it as Richard II.'s farewell to his 
Queen; from which, indeed, it seems to have been 
imitated; but observe the difference-^ 

Good sometime Queen, prepare thee hence for France; 

Think I am dead : and thai even here thou tak'st ' 

As from my death-bed my last living leave. 

In winter's tedious nights, sit by the fire 

With good old folks, and let them tell thee tales 

Of woeful ages long ago betid : 

And ere thou bid good-night, to quit their grief, 

Tell thou the lamentable tale of me, 

And send the hearers weeping to their beds. 

For why, the senseless brands will sympathize 

The heavy accent of thy moving tongue, 

And in compassion weep the fire out: 

And some will mourn in ashes, some coal-black. 

For the deposing of a rightful king. 

"And if we compare the two entire scenes the differ- 
ence will appear ten times greater, for Richard's passion 
makes a new subject of every passing incident and 
image, and has as many changes as an ^oHan harp. 



XX KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 

"To a practised ear the test which I have proposed 
will, I think, be sufficient, and more conclusive perhaps 
than any other. Those who are less quick in perceiving 
the finer rhythmical effects may be more struck with 
the following consideration. It has been observed, as I 
said, that lines with a redundant syllable at the end 
occur in Henry VIIL twice as often as in any of Shak- 
spere's other plays. Now, it will be found on examin- 
ation that this observation does not apply to all parts 
of the play alike, but only to those which I have noticed 
as, in their general character, un-Shaksperian. In those 
parts which have the stamp of Shakspere upon them 
in other respects, the proportion of lines with the 
redundant syllable is not greater than in other of his 
later plays — Cymbdine, for instance, and the Winter's 
Tale, In the opening scene of Cymbeline, an unim- 
passioned conversation, chiefly narrative, we find 
twenty-five such lines in sixty- seven ; in the third 
scene of the third Act, which is in a higher strain of 
poetry but still calm, we find twenty-three in one 
hundred and seven; in the fourth scene, which is full 
of sudden turns of passion, fifty-throe in one hundred 
and eighty-two. Taking one scene with another, there- 
fore, the lines with the redundant syllable are in the 
proportion of about two to seven. In the Winter^s 
Tale we may take the second and third scenes of the 
third Act as including a sufficient variety of styles j 
and here we find seventy-one in two hundred and 
forty-eight; the same proportion as nearly as possible, 
though the scenes were selected at random. 

"Let us now see how it is in Henry VIIL Here is 
a table showing the proportion in each successive scene: — 



INTRODUCTION. 



XXI 



Act. 


Scene. 


Lines. 


Red. SylL 


Prop'n. 


Author. 


• 

1. 


1. 




225 


63 ] 


[to 3-5 


[Shakspere. 




2. 




215 


• 74 ] 




2-9 


f> 




3 and 4. 


172 


100 ] 




1-7 


Fletcher. 


■ • 

11. 


1. 




164 


97 ] 




1-6 


f » 




2. 




129 


77 ] 




1-6 


it 




3. 




107 


41 ] 




2-6 


Shakspere. 




4. 




230 


72 ] 




3-1 


>» 


• • ■ 

111. 


1. 




166 


119 ] 




1-3 


Fletcher. 




2.* 




193 


62 J 




3 


Shakspere. 




3. 




257 


152 ] 




1-6 


Fletcher. 


iv. 


1. 




116 


57 ] 




2 


f> 




2. 




80 


51 ] 




1-5 


)f 




3. 




93 


51 ] 




1-8 


f> 


V. 


1. 




176 


68 ] 




2-5 


Shakspere (altered). 




2. 




217 


115 ] 




1-8 


Fletcher. 




3. 


Almost all 


prose. 






>» 




4. 




73 


44 ] 


I „ 


1-6 


M ] 



"Here then we have, out of sixteen separate scenes, 
six in which the redundant syllable occurs (taking one 
with another), about as often as in Cymbeline and the 
Winter's Tale; the proportion being never higher than 
two in five, which is the same as in the opening scene 
of Cymbeline; never lower than two in seven, which is 
the same as in the trial scene in the Winter's Tale; 
and the average being about one in three; while in 
the remaining ten scenes the proportion of such lines 
is never less than one in two; in the greater number 
of them scarcely more than two in three. Nor is 
there anything in the subject or character of the 
several scenes by which such a difference can be 
accounted for. The light and loose conversation at 
the end of the first Act, the plaintive and laboured 

*As far as the exit of King Henry. 



xxii KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. \ i 

>ration in the second, the querulous and pareipnate* 
^Itercation in the third, the pathetic sorrows of WoTfeey, 
le tragic death of Katharine, the high poetic prophecy 
oK Cranmer, are equally distinguished by this pecu- 
lianty; A distinction so broad and uniform, running 
through so large a portion of the same piece, cannot 
have been accidental; and the more closely it is ex- 
an^ined the more clearly will it appear that the metre 
in these two sets of scenes is managed upon entirely 
different principles, and bears evidence of different 
workmen. To explain all the particular differences 
would be to analyse the structure first of Shakspere's 
metre, then of Fletcher's ; a dry and tedious task. 
But the general difference may easily be made evident 
by placing any undoubted specimen of Shakspere*s 
later workmanship by the side of the one, and of 
Fletcher's middle workmanship by the side of the 
other; the identity in both cases will be felt at 



once. 



Mr. Spedding then discusses the question upon what 
plan the joint labours of Shakespeare and Fletcher 
were conducted, and conjectures that the former "had 
conceived the idea of a great historical drama on the 
subject of Henry VIII. which would have included the 
divorce of Katharine, the fall of Wolsey, the rise of 
Cranmer, the coronation of Anne Bullen, and the final 
separation of the English from the Romish Church, 
which, being the one great historical event of the reign, 
would naturally be chosen as the focus of poetic in- 
terest ; that he had proceeded in the execution of this 
idea as far perhaps as the third Act, which might 
have included the establishment of Cranmer in the seat 



INTRODUCTION. xxiii 

of the highest ecclesiastical authority (the council- 
chamber scene in the fifth being designed as an intro- 
duction to that) ; when, finding that his fellows of the 
Globe were in distress for a new play to honour the 
marriage of the Lady Elizabeth with, he thought that 
his half finished work might help them, and accordingly 
handed them his manuscript to make what they could 
of it; that they put it into the hands of Fletcher 
(already in high repute as a popular and expeditious 
playwright), who finding the original design not very 
suitable to the occasion and utterly beyond his capa- 
city, expanded the three acts into five, by interspersing 
scenes of show and magnificence, and passages of de- 
scription, and long poetical conversations, in which his 
strength lay ; dropped all allusion to the great ecclesi- 
astical revolution, which he could not managa and for 
which he had no materials supplied him ; converted 
what should have been the middle into the end ; and 
so turned out a splendid 'historical masque, or shew- 
play,* which no doubt was very popular then, as it 
has been ever since. ." 

Mr. Spedding's hypothesis of this joint authorship, 
and, — what is more remarkable, — as to the division of 
parts, was confirmed by the fact that another eminent 
critic, Mr. Samuel Hickson, had independently arrived 
at the same conclusions, except that in Act v. 1, he 
did not recognize any alteration of Shakespeare by a 
second hand. To the division thus made Mr. Fleay 
and Mr. Furnivall, in 1874, applied the test of rhyme 
lines, double endings, stopt and unstopt lines, etc., etc., 
and found the results to accord with Mr. Spedding's 
theory. But sceptical criticism was to go still further ; 



y" 



xxiv KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 

and in 1885 a paper by Mr. Robert Boyle was read 
at a meeting of the New Shakspere Society in which 
the writer denied to Shakespeare all share in the play, 
ascribing it wholly to Massinger and Fletcher, and 
assigning with minute precision the portions due to 
each of the joint labourers. Dr. Aldis Wright, in his 
edition of the play published by the Clarendon Press 
in 1891, concurs with Mr. Boyle so far as to doubt 
the presence of Shakespeare's hand, and " in order to 
help to some extent to determine the complicated 
question of the authorship of the play," gives a list 
of un-Shakespearian words and phrases occurring in the 
parts usually attributed to Shakespeare, as well as in 
those which by Mr. Spedding's division are Fletcher's. 
Strong, however, as seem the arguments in favour of 
a divided authorship, there are critics of high authority 
who refuse to be convinced. Chief among these is 
Mr. Swinburne, whose dissent is mainly based upon a 
disbelief that Fletcher was capable, even in his highest 
moods, of writing certain scenes, more especially the 
death-scene of Katharine — admitting that "much of 
the play is externally as like the usual style of Fletcher 
as it is unlike the usual style of Shakespeare,*' Mr. 
Swinburne, A Stvdy of Shakespeare^ p. 83, writes, "The 
question is whether we can find one scene, one speech, 
one passage, which in spirit, in scope, in purpose, 
bears the same or any comparable resemblance to the 
work of Fletcher"; and after instancing and comment- 
ing upon the dying speech of Buckingham, the farewell 
of Wolsey to his greatness, and his parting scene with 
Cromwell, he continues (pp. 86, 87), " And yet, if this 
were all, we might be content to believe that the 



INTRODUCTION. xxv 

dignity of the subject and the high example of his 
present associate had for once lifted the natural genius 
of Fletcher above itself But the fine and subtle 
criticism of Mr. Spedding has in the main, I thilik, 
successfully and clearly indicated the lines of demarca- 
tion undeniably discernible in this play — ^between the 
severer style of certain scenes or speeches, and the 
laxer and more fluid style of others; between the 
graver, solider, more condensed parts of the apparently 
composite work, and those which are clearer, thinner, 
more diffused and diluted in expression. If under 
the latter head we had to class such passages only 
as the dying speech of Buckingham and the 
christening speech of Cranmer, it might after all be 
almost impossible to resist the internal evidence of 
Fletcher's handiwork. Certainly we hear the same 
soft continuous note of easy eloquence, level and 
limpid as a stream of crystalline transparence, in the 
plaintive adieu of the condemned statesman and the 
panegyrical prophecy of the favoured prelate. If this, 
I say, were all, we might admit that there is nothing 
— I have already admitted it — in either passage beyond 
the reach of Fletcher. But on the hypothesis so ably 
maintained by the editor of Bacon there hangs no less 
a consequence than this : that we must assign to the 
same hand the crowning glory of the whole poem, the 
death-scene of Katharine. Now, if Fletcher could have 
written that scene — a scene on which the only criticism 
ever passed, the only commendation ever bestowed, by 
the verdict of successive centuries, has been that of 
tears and silence — if Fletcher could have written a 
scene so far beyond our applause, so far above our 



xxvi KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 

acclamation, then the memory of no great poet has 
ever been so grossly wronged, so shamefully defrauded 
of its highest claim to honour. But, with all reverence 
for 'that memory, I must confess that I cannot bring 
myself to believe it. Any explanation appears to me 
more probable than this." . . And again (pp. 93, 
91), " We admit, then, that this play offers us in some 
not unimportant passages the single instance of a style 
not elsewhere precisely or altogether traceable in 
Shakespeare; that no exact parallel to it can be found 
among his other plays ; and that if it be not the 
partial work it may certainly be taken as the general 
model of Fletcher in his tragic poetry. On the other 
hand, we contend that its exceptional quality might 
perhaps be explicable as a tentative essay in a new 
line by one who tried so many styles before settling 
into his latest; and that, without far stronger, clearer, 
and completer proof than has yet been or can ever be 
advanced, the question is not solved but merely evaded 
by the assumption of a double authorship." . . . 
Equally emphatic is the protest of Mr. Halliwell- 
Phillipps in his Outlines of the Life of Shakespeare, 
p. 304, 2nd ed. ; while Professor A. W. Ward in his 
History of English Dramatic Literature, i. 447, regards 
the metrical peculiarities of Henry FILL as "after all 
only extreme developments of tendencies which indis- 
putably become stronger in Shakespeare's versification 
with the progress of time; and as the play (according 
to the view urged above) was one of the latest, if not 
the very latest, of Shakespeare's dramatic works, they 
would here reach their highest point." . . . The 
same critic points out that as a circumstance which 



INTRODUCTION. xxvii 

seems "hardly to favour the hypothesis of Fletcher's 
co-operation with Shakespeare in this play — that a 
striking passage in Cranmer's speech is very ludicrously 
parodied in Fletcher's The Begga/rs' Bush (in Higgen's 
mock address, ii. 1)." These dissents are, so far as I 
am aware, the only attempts of importance that have 
been made to meet Mr. Spedding's arguments; while 
Professor Dowden and Doctor Abbott agree with Mr. 
Spedding in denying Shakespeare's authorship either 
in part or in whole. My own opinion on the subject 
is of little importance. But I may remark that, while 
twenty years ago Mr. Spedding's view seemed to me 
almost irresistible from metrical considerations alone, 
it is now the dramatic treatment of the subject that 
to my mind tells most forcibly against single author- 
ship at one and the same period. At the same time 
a closer study of Fletcher has led me more and more 
to doubt, with Mr. Swinburne, that poet's power to 
have written the death-scene of Katharine, and con- 
sequently to doubt his share in any part of the play. 
In Mr. Boyle's theory I can find nothing that invites 
my agreement. The parallelisms of language, at all 
events, upon which he strongly relies, seem to me to 
be fully accounted for as imitations by the pupil of 
his master, — and Massinger was notoriously given to 
such imitations. In Mr. Spedding's remarks upon the 
opening scene of Henry VIIL I entirely concur; and 
throughout the list of Massinger's plays one may search 
in vain for any scene even faintly resembling that one 
in the characteristics noted by Mr. Spedding. Of the 
remaining portions of the play which Messrs. Spedding 
and Hickson assign to Shakespeare, there is to my 



sources* 



xxviii KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 

mind no less certainty of proof, and I should be 
surprised to find Dr. Wright agreeing with Mr. Boyle 
in his negative proposition, if it were not that the 
same high authority fails to catch the voice of Shake- 
speare speaking either to his ear or to his understand- 
ing in any part of the Two Noble Kinsmen. 
-]E5istoricai *^ Hewy VIII. is based upon the Chronicle of 

Holinshed, with occasional use perhaps of that of 
Halle continued by Grafton. Holinshed had derived 
much of his account of Wolsey from Cavendish's Life^ 
to which probably Shakspere had access, though it 
was not printed till 1641, and then in a garbled form 
. . . The tradition of Wolsey having been the son 
of a butcher is not in Cavendish. The episode of the 
accusation and acquittal of Cranmer seems to have 
been taken by Shakspere from Fox's Christian Martyrs, 
published in 1563. The transaction is related at 
length in Strype's Memorials of the Archbishop; but 
Mr. Froude (iv. 5) was unable to discover any con- 
temporary authority which would allow him to place 
confidence in the details. The order of the events in 
the play is not in strict accordance with historical 
accuracy, and as a matter of course the poet has dealt 
very freely with distances of time. Thus, the play 
begins with a reference, as to an event not long past, 
to the Field of the Cloth of Gold (1520), which agrees 
with the main action of the beginning of the play, the 
fall of Buckingham (1521). But contemporaneously 
with this is made to take place the reversal of the 
decree for taxing the people (1526); and Campeggio is 
made to arrive at the time of Buckingham's fall, 
whereas he actually arrived eight years afterward^ 



INTRODUCTION. xxix 

(1529). There seem similar inaccuracies, not perhaps 
unintentional (for much depends on dates in this un- 
pleasant question), in the chronology of the beginning 
and course of Henry's attachment to Anne BuUen. 
Lastly, the acquittal of Cranmer happened ten years 
later (1543) than the birth of Elizabeth (1533) with 
which it is in the play made to coincide. 
There is also a personal confusion between the Duke 
of Norfolk (i. 1) who was present at the Field of 
the Cloth of Gold and who died in 1524, and was 
therefore not living at the time of Wolsey's overthrow 
in 1529, and the Duke of Norfolk who became so in 
1524 and was in 1520 deputy in Ireland (iii. 2). The 
Surrey in 1529 was the poet; and Shakspere has 
rolled two Norfolks, and again two Surreys, into one" 
(Ward, Hist, of Eng. Dramatic Literature), 

"> Katharine, is represented to us ioJusJiory as proud Some of the 
of her birth as daughter of a Spanish king and of her Katharine.' 
position as Queen of England, firm even to obstinacy 
in her convictions, imperious of temper, somewhat 
cold and reserved in manner, tenacious of her rights; 
but at the same time as a woman of deep piety, of 
unstained purity, simple, kind-hearted, a loving mother, 
a dutiful and affectionate wife. With this picture 
that set before us in Henry Fill, is fully consistent; 
though ».v>f pnftt ^ifli living hand ha.s .softened the 
traits of character that partook of harshness^ and 
touchingly beautified the patience with which the 
martyred queen endured her trials and wxmiga-k Kath- 
arine appears in four scenes ; i. 2 ; ii. 4 ; iii, 1 ; and 
iv. 2 ; the two firs t being ascribed by Mr. Spedding 
to Shakesgearca^jl^e^ two last to Fletcher./ In i. 2 she 



XXX 



KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 




pleads the cause of the people driven into rebellion 
by the heavy exactions devised by the unscrupulous 
Chancellor. She also endeavours to defend Bucking- 
ham against Wolsey's charges. Her attitude in the 
former case is earnest and benevolent, firm in the 
^cause of those she considers injured, while with digni- 
fied submission to the king she urges mercy not 
merely as a kingly virtue, but as kingly policy. In 
Buckingham's behalf she appeals to motives of charity 
and justice, courageously facing the imperious cardinal, 
whose craft she sees through and whose malevolence 
she knows too well from personal experience. The 
trial scene, in ii. 4, shows her brought to bay by her 
persecutors and well assured that her ruin as a wife 
is the object they pursue. Kneeling before the king 
she first entreats that pity which an alien to the 
\ country, without friends to stand by her, with no 
assurance of equal justice, might fitly claim. As 
against the decision which she has so much reason to 
fear she pleads her wifely duty rendered with no un- 
I stinting willingness, the absence of any act deserving 
. her husband's displeasure, her constant endeavours to 
embrace his will and pleasure, her determination to 
have no friends that were not also his friends, the 
strong tie which unites them in the many children 
born of their bodies, the long years during which she 
has been loyal to her honour and her wedlock bond. 
Lastly, urging that the validity of her marriage had 
been fully weighed by his father and her own, and 
confirmed by the opinions of a" wise council gathered 
from everywhere in Europe, she asks for nothing more 
than a respite till she has consulted her friends in 



\ 



INTRODUCTION. xxxi 

Spain. The king makes no answer, but leaves every- 
thing to Wolsey and Oampeius. With hypocritical 
assurances the legates endeavour to soothe her. Esti- 
mating their words at their proper value, Katharine 
turns upon Wolsey, challenges his qualification to be 
a judge on the score of his malicious hatred and his 
persuasions of the king to set the marriage aside. She 
accuses him of self-seeking, falsehood, arrogance, craft, 
hypocrisy, insolence of power, disregard of his holy 
profession; and, appealing to the Pope to bring her 
whole cause before him, resolutely refuses to be tried 
by other tribunal. As she quits the scene, the king 
orders her to be recalled; but her imperious deter- 
mination will listen to no further commands, and she' 
sweeps out of court in the majesty of outraged inno- 
cence. This scene has often and naturally been set 
beside that of the trial of Hermione in the Winter^s 
Tale, a play of nearly the same date. Mr. Jameson^ 
for instance, well compares 'Hhe magnanimity, the 
noble simplicity, the purity of heart, the resignation 
in each, — how perfectly equal in degree 1 how dia- 
metrically opposite in kind ! " Mr. Boyle, too, makes 
the same comparison. But having settled in his mind 
that the scene is Massinger's, not Shakespeare's, he 
is at pains to show the inferiority of Katharine's 
conduct to that of Hermione. He seems, however, 
to forget that the latter is a dramatic creation, the 
former an historical character; and in every point in 
which he specifically condemns Katharine's attitude, 
he fails to notice that the poet, be he who he may, is 
closely following the Chronicles. Others, again, find 
in this close adherence to the language of the poet's 



xxxii KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 

authorities, here and elsewhere in the play, an argu- 
ment against Shakespeare's hand, though the closeness 
is not greater than in other plays of Shakespeare, 
CoriolambSy for instance, where, had it been needed, 
a better excuse would have been found for idealization 
of character. We next see Katharine in the privacy 
of her own apartments, occupied with domestic pursuits 
in the company of her women, and seeking in music 
some relief to her troublous thoughts. Her refusal to 
plead before any court the king might assemble has 
baffled his designs, and he now seeks through his 
tools, the legates, to cajole her into acquiescence. 
These would persuade her to receive their message in 
her private chamber; and when answered by her that 
there's nothing she has done which " deserves a corner," 
they endeavour to hide from her attendants the nature 
of their communication by addressing her in Latin. 
Foiled by her determination that there shall be no 
concealment from those about her, Wolsey and Cam- 
peius alternately endeavour to wind their toils about 
her. She pleads her inability to answer their demand 
without time given for deliberation, without counsel 
for her cause, the cause of "a woman, friendless, 
hopeless." Her appeal is dignified, patient, and touch- 
ing. But to such men, on such a mission, useless of 
course. They mil wring an answer from her; and 
when Campeius urges that she should put her "main 
cause into the king's protection," who "is loving and 
most gracious," her patience is exhausted and her 
righteous indignation blazes out in fierce denunciation 
of their hypocrisy, in passionate defence of her con- 
duct as a wife, in resolute refiisal to abandon those 



introduction: xxxiii 

rights which are hers alike by human and divine law. 
But the tension of the contest is too much for her. 
Anger gives way to tears, and before the interview is 
over she prays forgiveness for whatever has not been 
seemly in her answer, and even sues to her tormentors 
to help her with their counsels. Of^t hja acene _Mr. 
Spedding rem arks that he^ finds the Queen ** as much 
changed as Buckingham was after his sentence, though 
without any alteration of circumstances to account for 
kn flltftraJTor^ of tprnpftr." Wherein does this change 
consist? It_is_true_ that, overwrought by excitement 
of the struggle, Katharine gives way to a. brief weak- 
jiess instead of carrying herself throughout with that 
haughty determination which concludes the trial scene. 
But surely there is a considerable alteration . in. her 
circumstances. She now knows beyond all doubt that 
there is no justice to be hoped for from the king ; she 
has had full experience of the malignant persistency 
of the legates ; in the interval of time she has been 
brooding over her sorrows with no one to counsel and 
comfort her; and it is one thing to appear before the 
king in solemn trial of her rights, with at all events 
some show of help in the person of her advisers, 
another thing to submit to the intrusive persecution 
of her most subtle enemies, and to feel that no place 
is sacred from their determined resolve.^ In the second 
scene of the fourth Act we stand beside her death-bed. 
Here all is peace. Alive, as she shows herself to 
Wolsey's crimes and sins and cruelty to herself, she 
will yet listen to Grifl&th's apology for him, will honour 
him in his ashes, will wish that peace may be with 
him. "Her soul," says Gervinus, "had remained 



xxxiv KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 

beautiful upon the throne, in her outer degradation 
it was more beautiful still; she goes to the grave 
reconciled with her true enemy and destroyer." This 
self-negation made, this last infirmity overcome, her 
thoughts and cares are for her husband to whom she 
has been so loyal, for her daughter in behalf of whose 
rights she has battled so courageously, for her servants 
whose fidelity has been so well earned by her loving 
treatment. For her own wrongs she has no word of 
reproach; for herself she merely craves such burial 
as will mark the chastity of her life and commemorate 
the queenly title which with her it has been a religion 
to maintain. If this scene be Fletcher's, I am unable 
to see, with Mr. Boyle, in what way that poet has 
"made quite a different figure of her" fromr the 
Katharine we behold in the scenes usually attributed 
to Shakespeare. Years of sorrow and humiliation have 
no doubt taught their chastening lesson ; passion and 
personal resentment have been refined away; the piety 
that was fervent even to austerity is fervent still, but 
withr~a~ glow that has become mellow ; affectionate 
impulses which a critical position repressed have found 
expansion in . the- -hom©ly^4ife nmong^ ^er dependents ; 
earthly dignities and claims have shrunk to their right 
^bportions, but the principle which bade her main- 
tain them is not to be extinguished even by the 
presence of death. 
AnneBuUen. Whatever may be the true story of Anne Bullen's 
life after she became queen, the latest historical 
researches show her to us in her maiden days as a 
stranger to the true delicacy of a lady in admitting 
the addresses of the king and receiving "the homage 




INTRODUCTION. xxxv 

of the court as its future sovereign, while the king's 
wife, her mistress, as yet resided under the same roof, 
with the title and position of queen, and while the 
question was still undecided of the validity of the first 
marriage" (Froude, Hist, of Eng,, i. 163): they further 
show her to us as frivolous, a coquette, indifferent to 
the obligations of gratitude, and not too careful of the 
truth. In our play (leaving out the Procession-scene 
which is but dumb-show) Anne appears only in i. 4, 
where she utters but half a dozen words, and again 
in ii. 3. Of the sketch contained in this latter scene, 
Mrs. Jameson remarks, "How completely, in the few 
passages appropriated to Anne Bullen, is her character 
pourtrayed ! with what a delicate and yet luxuriant 
grace is she sketched off, with her gaiety and her 
beauty, her levity, her extreme mobility, her sweet- 
ness of disposition, her tenderness of heart, and, in 
short, all her femalitiesf How nobly has Shakspeare 
done justice to the two women, and heightened our / 
interest in both, by placing the praises of Katherine / 
in the mouth of Anne Bullen ! " I fear that I cannot / 
see the picture in the same light. Indeed to me it/ 
shows her with most of the frailties imputed bvf 
history. In her conversation with Lord Sands shjft 
evidently relishes the badinage that verges on in- 
delicacy, while the much fuller flavour of the Old 
Lady's language offends her only inasmuch as she is 
the mark of its banter. Her sorrow for the queen 
does not hinder her from sunning herself in the rays 
of fortune dawning upon her, does not stand in the 
way of welcoming the king's addresses; but, as Mrs. 
Jameson admits, betrays the shallow nature to which 



xxxvi KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 

the loss of pomp and majesty is everything, the loss 
of love and wifely rights nothing. Had her sympathy 
been more than conventional life-service, had her dis- 
avowal of ambition been anything but the thinly- 
veiled hypocrisy which prudence dictated, her "soft 
cheveril conscience" would not have been so ready to 
"stretch it" to the acceptance of a position that be- 
lied alike gratitude and delicacy. Admitting all this 
and more, Mr. Boyle, in order to support his hypo- 
thesis that ii. 3 is not by Shakespeare, remarks, 
"That the poet means us to have a high opinion of 
her is plain from the trouble which he takes to show 
what an impression she makes on her surroundings": 
and goes on to quote the eulogistic language of the 
Lord Chamberlain (ii. 3. 75), of Suffolk (iii. 2. 49), of 
Wolsey (iii. 2. 97), of the second Gentleman (iv. 1. 
43), and of Lovell (v. 1. 24). To this reasoning Mr. 
Bos well-Stone acutely answers, "No, ii. 3 is a revela- 
tion of the true character of Anne Bullen. She can- 
not conceal the essential vulgarity of her nature from 
the Old Lady, who is a kindred spirit. But Anne 
BuUen's beauty, graceful bearing, and modest speech 
impose upon outsiders, all of whom, observe, are men. 
I do not believe that we are meant to regard the 
Anne Bullen of ii. 3 as really deserving the golden 
opinions which she has won from many, but that we 
are to be enabled, by this scene, to perceive the falsity 
of popular judgment." He might have added that in 
the case of Suffolk, Henry's bosom friend, in courtiers 
like the Chamberlain, the second Gentleman, and 
Lovell, creatures equally prompt to ban and to bless 
as occasion serves, the kingly approval would naturally 



INTRODUCTION. xxxvii 

find an echo; while even on Wolsey the assiduous 
court that Anne had paid to him was not likely to 
be without its effect. He might also have added that 
if we are to form our opinion from what is said of a 
character*, then we ought to attach importance to the 
conscientious scruples and religious fervour imputed to 
Henry, though the impression so distinctly given us in 
the play is that these are but a cloak to cover an 
unholy passion. Further, whatever Anne's real nature, 
it is indisputable that she did exercise a wide fascina- 
tion over those with whom she came in contact, and 
Shakespeare, while showing us her weaknesses and 
littlenesses, might not be averse from putting into the 
mouths of his characters anything that such men 
would be likely to say in praise of the mother of the 
queen for whom his reverence was so deep. Mr. 
Boyle, I must add, has another argument in proof 
that ii. 3 is not by Shakespeare. "The poet's later 
creations," he tells us, "differ from his earlier figures 
in a greater idealization. Yet the process of idealiza- 
tion has not gone so far as to destroy their reality. 
They are * spirits, but yet women too.' With all their 
lofty purity, in the presence of which earthly passion 
feels itself rebuked, they are *not too bright and 
good for human nature's daily food.' It is this mix- 
ture of the spirit-world with the world of flesh and 
blood which gives Imogen, Miranda, Marina, and 
Perdita their unspeakable charm. To this class, 
if she be a creation of Shakspere's, Anne Boleyn 
must belong." Surely the answer here again, as in 
the comparison between Katharine and Hermione, 
is that Imogen, Miranda, Marina^ and Perdita were 



xxxviii KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 

purely creatures of Shakespeare's imagination, Anne 
BuUen an historical personage whom even the most 
complacent of her admirers could not idealize into a 
likeness to Shakespeare's later heroines. 
The King. For the exhibition of such virtues as Henry really 

possessed the scheme of the play affords but little 
scope. Turning, as it does, upon his determination to 
divorce Katharine in order to leave himself free to 
marry Anne BuUen, it must necessarily show us the 
unscrupulous means that he employs to this end, and 
the hypocritical excuses with which he seeks to blind 
the eyes of those about him, and perhaps to hood- 
wink his own. Though a courtier like the Lord 
Chamberlain may affect to believe that *Hhe marriage 
with his brother's wife has crept too near" the king's 
"conscience," even Suffolk, his bosom friend, scouts 
the pretence with the plain avowal, "No, his con- 
science has crept too near another lady." His court- 
ship of Anne is undisguised, and the "flowing honour" 
which makes her Marchioness of Pembroke can have 
but one significance. For his queen he is absolutely 
without consideration. A trial of which the result is 
predetermined is made all the more odious by the 
affectation of justice, by the employment in it of the 
queen's most bitter enemy, by a hollow eulogy of her 
virtues, by a long and unctuous declaration of the 
scruples by which the kingly conscience has been 
tortured, by an equally hypocritical declaration of his 
readiness to "wear our mortal state" with "Katharine 
our queen," — a declaration immediately to be followed 
by an impatient 'aside' in which he girds at the 
"dilatory sloth of Eome" in setting him free from 



INTRODUCTION. xxxix 

the bonds by which he is tied. Even more odious is 
his unmanly persecution of " the primest creature 
that's paragon'd o' the world" when, foiled in the 
matter of the trial, he endeavours to extort acquies- 
cence in a divorce by means of the private exhortations 
of such emissaries as Wolsey and Campeius. Of con- 
science and its troublesome monitions we hear no 
more when his freedom is obtained. As to Katharine, 
her claims of love, her rights to respect, they are con- 
veniently dumb. With indecent haste Henry cele- 
brates his marriage with Anne Sullen, consigning *'the 
queen of earthly queens" to seclusion in a remote 
hamlet, stripping her as far as possible of all out- 
ward marks of honour, and contenting himself when 
she lies a-dying with sending his "princely commenda- 
tions" and entreating her to "take good comfort." 

Of Henry's ruthlessness and selfish terrors we have 
example in the episode of Buckingham's death, an 
episode in no wise essential to the development of the 
play. Upon the unsupported accusation of the Duke's 
surveyor, a creature ignominiously dismissed from his 
office, the king is at once ready to pronounce Buck- 
ingham "a giant traitor," "a traitor to the height." 
'He of course finds it necessary to send the Duke to 
trial before executing him; but the trial in such 
circumstances is nothing better than a farce, nothing 
better than the farce which follows in the case of 
Katharine. And if for one reason he is glad to rid 
himself of Buckingham, no less glad does he seem for 
other reasons of the opportunity to shake himself free 
of Wolsey. Doubtless he has long felt himself little 
else than an instrument to be played upon by the 



xl KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 

CardiDaFs breath. Doubtless he is awake to the 
danger which lay in that proud prelate's treatment of 
the equally proud nobles. But so long as the matter 
of the divorce is unsettled, he dares not forfeit 
Wolsejr's help. Tyrant as he is, he lacks courage to 
resist the tyranny of a more imperious and more 
subtle mind until, his own objects being gained, the 
fortunate disclosure of Wolsey*s treachery compels him 
to, and furnishes ample excuses for, the dismissal with 
all dramatic effect of his too powerful auxiliary. His 
relations with the great nobles are of an autocratic 
character. Yet these nobles, influenced it may be by 
a rough bonhommie that is perhaps genuine in the 
king, by his love of magnificence and courtly display, 
by a strength and boldness of character evident enough 
when dissimulation is not needed, seem to bear no 
resentment towards him for his despotic rule, but con- 
cur in attributing his worst deeds to the malevolence 
of the crafty Cardinal. Towards Cranmer alone does 
Henry behave with generosity and a noble bearing. In 
the third scene of the fifth Act, — a scene which one 
would gladly believe to be Shakespeare's, — whether 
out of gratitude for past services, or that he welcomes 
an occasion for rebuffing Gardiner, Henry manfully 
and apparently with sincere esteem defends the Arch- 
bishop against his enemies, soundly rates the whole 
Council, and for ever silences all outward manifestation 
of their spite. Of this scene Mr. Spedding observes 
that "nothing in the play is explained by it, nothing 
depends upon it. It is used only (so far as the argu- 
ment is concerned) as a preface for introducing Cranmer 
as godfather to Queen Elizabeth, which might have 



INTRODUCTION. xli 

been done as a matter of course without any preface 
at all." " So far as the argument is concerned " : 
certainly. But is it not possible that the scene had 
another use, that it was felt by the poet that up to 
this point the king had been pictured in colours 
which if not too sombre for accordance with historical 
truth, were at all events so sombre as to offend not 
merely the kingly susceptibilities of James I., but also 
the susceptibilities of a nation which, whatever Henry's 
crimes, forgave him much on account of his struggle 
for the Protestant religion'? 

Of Wolsey's character as depicted in our play, Woisey. 
perhaps no more complete analysis could be given 
than that furnished by Gervinus. " Fortune, favour, 
and merit," he says, " combined to raise the immoderate 
ambition of this 'great child of honour,' to advance 
his pride beyond measure, to quench in him every 
appearance of restraint and humility, to feed his 
covetousness and love of pomp, and to spread around 
him royal splendour. Ambition urges him to strive 
after ever greater dignities, and greater positions again 
stir up his ambition into a brighter flame. The means to 
his ends become indifferent to him ; he has never known 
truth; dissimulation is his slave, behind which he 
conceals the malice of his heart; munificence without 
bounds, advancement and favour, chain his servants 
inviolably to him; bribery gains over to him the con- 
fidants of his enemies, whom he pursues with all the 
cunning of revenge. Half fox, half wolf, he swallows 
greedily the treasures of the land, oppresses the com- * 
mons with enormous taxes, and, when the people rebel, 
he assumes the appearance of having himself diminished 



xlii KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 

them. With cold arrogance he disregards the blame 
urged against him on this occasion, and treats it as 
the envious rancour of the weak and the malicious, 
who cannot measure his merits. He makes a systematic 
opposition against the nobles. No peer is uninjured 
by him; he ruins the class in the mass, when by 
arbitrary designation of the persons who are to accom- 
pany the king to the festive meeting with the King 
of France, and by the immense splendour which they 
were to display there, he consumes the fortunes of 
many families. And when the powerful Buckingham 
is aimed at, he surrounds him with spies and hirelings, 
and plans his future fall, while he removes his nearest 
and most powerful relatives to positions remote from 
the court Thus striding with proud head over the 
highest of the land, he attempts it even with the king. 
He had become accustomed to rank himself with 
princes; his servants were audacious enough to declare 
that their master would sooner be waited on than 
any other subject, if not than the king; he made 
use of the formula ^ Ego et rex meus,^ when he wrote 
to foreign courts. To occupy the papal chair, to obtain 
a rank even superior to his king's, this is the ultimate 
end of his ambition. He has seized upon the higher 
ecclesiastical positions in the land; he next strives, 
without the king's knowledge, to become the papal 
legate ; it is the Pope himself who stirs up his ambition. 
To obtain the papacy he imprudently accumulates upon 
himself the treasures of the country. For this object 
he tries to bring his king into alliance with France. 
Hfi-ha& lA vain sought the ar<^bi8hnpric of Toledo from 
the emperor, he must thus rest oa hia adxeraary France. 



INTRODUCTION. xliii 

TcL_thi£> end that resplendent feast at the mpfiting of 
the two K^s must be kept in _the. Vale. of-Arde, and 
BuckinghanpL and the opponents to this alliance must 
be put ou t of .the way. This is not yet the extreme 
point to which his revenge against the emperor and 
. hi& wish to unite with Franee driye him. Qgju.ader- 
t^Trflfij f^ rnm thfi. queen. hftrafilff. sihB. is. iha. emper o r 's 

j |1lTlt.^ and ^''*' ^"^"^y TwnrftnvAr alrftady ffftm bflT ?li»^- 

ft^fi^-ftr She has liv ed twenty^yeM^ with the king in 
the happiest concord^ Jbut he, taking as wide a.raDge 
as ever, by means of a J?rench. . ecclesiastic .. throws 
out scruples as to_tb.e„iawfulne8s £x£ the marriage, and 
what these cannot effect, the king's sensuality accom- 
plishes. The separation is effected. in order J^haL^^. 
king, according to the carduial'& intention, may. marry 
the Duchess of Alencjon, the French king's sister. If 
all these aims had been obtained, if Henry YIII. had 
entered into so close a coaaeotien with France, if 
Wolsey had ascended the papal chair, we may readily 
believe that he would have played the part towards 
Henry VIH. which Thomas it Becket in the see of 
Canterbury acted towards his king, or. that under the 
influence of this powerful man, who even in his present 
position fettered the kingdom by his secret dealings, 
Catholicism would have been anew established in 
England. But the cardinal had estimated everything 
except the king's sensual passion. The scruple con- 
cerning the legitimacy of his marriage had no sooner 
been instilled into him, and the prospect of a new 
marriage presented to him, than he quickly cast his 
eye on the beautifiil Anne Bullen. His conscience 
now became urgent, the cardinal's delay was insupport- 



Analysis, 



xliv KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 

able to him, the hesitation of the papal church irritating; 
and this is, thus Wolsey subsequently perceives too 
late, * the weight that pulled him down.' When having 
ventured beyond his depth in a sea of glory, when 
his high-blown pride has broken under him, and he 
has sunk, he returns to the true value of the man 
within him; he acknowledges that too much honour 
is a heavy burden for a man who aspires to Heaven, 
and he warns Cromwell of the sin of ambition, by 
which the angels fell. He casts off at once the burden 
of the world and of sin, he recovers the strength of 
his soul in poverty, and true happiness in misery, 
and in an edifying return to true self-knowledge, 
which the poet, resting on the testimony of history, 
bestows upon him, according to which this man of 
duplicity, severity, and malice was never happy but 
in his fall, he gains more honour in the hour of his 
death than by all the pomp of his life." 



Time-Analysis. 

Time- "The time of this Play," says Mr. P. A. Daniel, "is 

seven days represented on the stage, with intervals, the 
length of which it is, perhaps, impossible to determine : 
see how dates are shuffled in the list below. 

Day 1. Act i. Sc. 1-4. Day 5. Act iii. Sc. 2. 

Interval, Interval, 

Day 2. Act ii. Sc. 1-3. Day 6. Act iv. Sc. 1 and 2. 
Day 3. Act ii. Sc. 4. Interval. 

Day 4. Act iii. Sc. 1. Day 7. Act v. Sc. 1-6. 

Interval, 



INTRODUCTION. xlv 

HiSTOBic Dates, Abbanoed in the Obdeb of the Plat. 

1620. June. Field of the Cloth of Gold. 

1522. March. War declared with France. 

,, May— July. Visit of the Emperor to the English Court 

1521. April 16th. Buckingham brought to the Tower. 

1527. Henry becomes acquainted with Anne BuUen. 

1526. May. Arraignment of Buckingham. May 17. His 

execution. 

1527. August. Commencement of proceedings for the divorce. 

1528. October. Cardinal Campeius arrives in London. 

1532. Sept. Anne Bullen created Marchioness of Pembroke. 

1529. May. Assembly of the Court at Blackfriars to try the 

case of the divorce. 
1529. ^ ^ 
1533 I Cranmer abroad working for the divorce. 

1529. Return of Cardinal Campeius to Rome. 

1533. January. Marriage of Henry with Anne Bullen. 

1529. October. Wolsey deprived of the Great Seal. 

,, October 25th. Sir Thomas More chosen Lord Chancellor. 
1533. March 30th. Cranmer consecrated Archbishop of Can- 
terbury. 

„ May 23rd. Nullity of the marriage with Katherine 
declared. 

1530. November 29. Death of Cardinal Wolsey. 
1533. June Ist. Coronation of Anne. 

1536. January 8th. Death of Queen Katherine. 

1533. September 7th. Birth of Elizabeth. 

1544. Cranmer called before the Council. 

1533. September. Christening of Elizabeth. 



THE FAMOUS HISTORT OF THE LIFE OF 

KING HENRY THE EIGHTH 



DRAMATIS PERSONS 

Kma Henbt the Eighth. 

Casdikal Woisby. 

Cabdinal Campeius 

GAPnoiTJS, Ambassador from the Emperor Charles V. 

Cbanmeb, Archbishop of Canterbury. 

DuKB OF NosroLK. 

DUKB OF BnOKINGHAM. 

DuKB OF Suffolk. 

Easl of Subbby. 

Lord Chamberlain. 

Lord Chancellor. 

Qabdineb, Bishop of Winchester. 

Bishop of Lincoln. 

LoBD Abeboavenny. 

LoBD Sands. 

Sm Henby GniLDFOBD. 

Sm Thomas Lovell. 

Sm Anthony Denny. 

Sm Nicholas Vaux, 

Secretaries to Wolsey 

Cbomwbll, Servant to Wolsey. 

Gbiffith, Ctotleman-usher to Queen Katharine. 

Three Gentlemen. 

DooTOB Butts, Physician to the Eing^ 

Garter Eang-at-Arms. 

Surveyor to the Duke of Buckingham. 

Bbandon, and a Sergeant-at-Arms. 

Door-keeper of the Council-chamber. 

Porter, and his Man. Page to Gardiner. A Crier. 

Queen Eathabine, wife to King Henry, afterwards divorced. 
Anne Bullen, her Maid of Honour, afterwards Queen. 
An old Lady, friend to Anne Bullen. 
Patience, woman to Queen Katharine. 

Several Lords and Ladies in the Dumb Shows ; Women attending 
upon the Queen ; Scribes, Officers, Guards, and other 
Attendants. Spirits. 

Scene: London; Westminster; KimboUon, 



THE FAMOUS HISTORY OP THE LIFE OF 

KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 



THE PROLOGUE. 

I COMB no more to make you laugh : things now. 
That bear a weighty and a serious brow, 
Sad^ high, and working, full of state and woe, 
Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow. 
We now present Those that can pity, here 
May, if they think it well, let fall a tear ; 
The subject will deserve it. Such as give 
Their money out of hope they may believe. 
May here find truth too. Those that come to see 
Only a show or two, and so agree 10 

The play may pass, if they be still and willing, 
I '11 undertake may see away their shilling 
Richly in two short hours. Only they 
That come to hear a merry bawdy play, 
A noise of targets, or to see a fellow 
In a long motley coat guarded with yeUow, 
WiU be deceived ; for, gentle hearers, know, 
To rank our chosen truth with such a show 
As fool and fight is, beside forfeiting 

Our own brains, and the opinion that we bring, 20 

To make that only true we now intend, 
» 3 



4 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act i. 

Will leave us never an understanding friend. 

Therefore, for goodness' sake, and as you are known 

The first and happiest hearers of the town. 

Be sad, as we would make ye : think ye see 

The very persons of our noble story 

As they were living ; think you see them great, 

And followed with the general throng and sweat 

Of thousand friends ; then in a moment, see 

How soon this mightiness meets misery : 30 

And, if you can be merry then, I '11 say 

A man may weep upon his wedding-day. 



ACTL 

ScENB I. Lofndon* An ante-chamher in the palace. 

Enter the Dukb of Norfolk at one door; at the other, the 
Duke of Buckingham and the Lord Abergavenny. 

Btick, Good morrow, and well met. How have ye done 
Since last we saw in France ? 

^or, I thank your grace. 

Healthful ; and ever since a fresh admirer 
Of what I saw there. 

Bttck, 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. 

Nor, TVixt 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 ; 10 

Which had they, what four throned ones could have weighed 
Such a compounded one 1 

Btick, All the whole time 

I was my chanber's prisoner. 



SCENE I.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 5 

Iifor» 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 cliuquant, all in gold, like heathen gods, 
Shone down the English ; and, to-morrow, they 20 

Made Britain India : every man that stood 
Show'd like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were 
As cherubins, all gilt : the madams too. 
Not used 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, 30 

Still him in praise : and, being present both 
'Twas said they saw but one ; and no discemeir > 
Durst wag his tongue in censure. When these suns — 
For so they phrase 'em — by their heralds challenged 
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 believed. 

Bitck O, you go far. 

Nor, As I belong to worship and affect 
In honour honesty, the tract of every thing 40 

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. 

Bibck. Who did guide, 

I mean, who set the body and the limbs 



6 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act i. 

Of this great sport together, as you guess ? 

Nor, One, certes, that promises no element 
In such a busihesa 

B^lck» I pray you, who, my lord ? 

Nor. All this was order'd by the good discretion 60 

Of the right reverend Cardinal of York. 

Buck. 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' the beneficial sun 
And keep it from the earth. 

Nor. Surely, sir, 

There 's in him stuff that puts him to these ends ; 
For, being not propped by ancestry, whose grace 
Chalks successors their way, nor calM upon 60 

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. 

Aher. I cannot tell 

What heaven hath given him, — let some graver eye 
Pierce into that ; but I can see his pride 
Peep through each paH of him : whence has he that. 
If not from hell ? the devil is a niggard, 70 

Or has given all before, and he begins 
A new hell in himself. 

Biick. 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 1 He makes up the file 
Of all the gentry ; for the most part such 
To whom as great a chai^ge as little honour 
He meant to lay upon : and his own letter, 



/ 



scasNE I.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 7 

The honourable board of council out, 
Must fetch him in he papers. 

Aher. 1 do know 80 

Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that have 
By this so sicken'd their estates, that never 
They shall abound as formerly. 

Buck, 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 ? 

^or. Grievingly I think. 

The peace between the French and us not values 
The cost that did conclude it. 

Bud:, Every man, 

After the hideous storm that followed, was 90 

A thing inspired ; and, not consulting, broke 
Into a general prophecy ; That this tempest, 
Dashing the garment of this peace, aboded 
The sudden breach on 't 

^or. Which is budded out ; 

For France hath flaw'd the league, and hath attached 
Our merchants' goods at Bourdeauz. 

Aber. Is it therefore 

The ambassador is silenced ? 

iVbr. Marry, is 't. 

Aher. A proper title of a peace ; d.nd purchased 
At a superfluous rate ! 

Buck. ^^7} <dl this business 

Our reverend cardinal carried. 

Nor. Like it your grace, 100 

The state takes notice of the private difference 
Betwixt you and the cardinaL I advise you — 
And take it from a heart that wishes towards you 
Honour and plenteous safety — that you read 
The cardinal's malice and his potency 



8 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act i. 

Together ; to consider farther that 

What his high hatred would effect wants not 

A minister in his power. You know his nature, 

That he 's revengeful, and I know his sword 

Hath a sharp edge : it 's long and, 't may be said, 110 

It reaches far, and where 'twill not extend. 

Thither he darts it. Bosom up mj counsel, 

You 'U find it wholesome. Lo, where comes that rock 

That I advise jour shunning. 

Enter Cardinal Wolset, the pwrse home "before him^ certain 
of the Guard, arui two Secretaries, with papers. The Car- 
dinal in his passage fixeth his eye on Buckingham, and 
BucEiNOHAM on him^ hothfvU, of disdain. 

Wol, The Duke of Buckingham's surveyor, ha 1 
Where 's his examination ? 

First Seer. Here, so please you. 

Wol, Is he in person ready ? 

First Seer. Aj, please your grace. 

Wol, Well, we shall then know more ; and Buckingham 
Shall lessen this big look. ' [Exeunt Wolset/ and his Train, 

Brick. This butcher's cur is venom-mOuth'd, arid I 120 

Have not the power to muzzle him ; therefore best 
Not wake him in his slumber. A beggar's book 
Outworths a noble's blood. 

^or. What, are you chafed 1 

Ask God for temperance ; that 's the appliance only 
Which your disease requires. 

Bttck. I read in 's looks 

Matter against me ; and his eye rieviled 
Me, as his abject object : at this instant 
He bores me with some trick : he 's gone to the king ; 
I '11 follow and outstare him. 

Nor. Stay, my lord. 

And let your reaison with your choler question 130 

What 'tis you go about : to climb steep hills 



SCBINB I.] ^ING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 9 

Requires slow pace at first : anger is like 
A full-hot horse, who being allowed his way, 
Self -mettle tires him. Not a man in England 
Can advise me like you : be to yourself 
As you would to your friend. 

Bttck, 1 11 to the king ; 

And from a mouth of honour quite cry down 
This Ipswich fellow's insolence ; or proclaim 
There 's difference in no persons. 

Nor, Be advised ; 

Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot 140 

That it do singe yourself : we may outrun, 
By violent swiftness, that which we run at, 
And lose by over-running. Know you not. 
The fire that mounts the liquor till 't run o'er, 
In seeming to augment it wastes it ? Be advised : 
I say again, there is no English soul 
More stronger to direct you than yourself, 
If with the sap of reason you would quench. 
Or but allay, the fire of passion. 

Bi^. Sir, 

I am thankful to you ; and I '11 go along 150 

By your prescription : but this top-proud fellow, 
Whom from the flow of gall I name not but 
From sincere motions, by intelligence. 
And proofs as clear as founts in July when 
We see each grain of gravel, I do know 
To be corrupt and treasonous. 

J^or, Say not 'treasonous.* 

Buck. To the king I '11 say 't ; and make my vouch as 
strong 
As shore of rock. Attend. This holy fox. 
Or wolf, or both, — for he is equal ravenous 
As he is subtle, and as prone to mischief 160 

As able to perform 't ; his mind and place 
Infecting one another, yea, reciprocally — 



10 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act i. 

Only to show his pomp as well in France 

As here at home, suggests the king our master 

To this last costly treaty, the interview, 

That swallowed so much treasure, and like a glass 

Did break i' the rinsing. 

Not, Faith, and so it did. 

Buck, Pray, give me favour, sir. This cunning cardinal 
The articles o' the combination drew 

As himself pleased ; and they were ratified 170 

As he cried * thus let be ' : to as much end 
As give a crutch to the dead : but our count-cardinal 
Has done this, and 'tis well ; for worthy Wolsey, 
Who cannot err, he did it. Now this follows, — 
Which, as I take it, is a kind of puppy 
To the old dam, treason, — Charles the emperor, 
Under pretence to see the queen his aunt, — 
For 'twas indeed his colour, but he came 
To whisper Wolsey, — ^here makes visitation : 
His fears were, that the interview betwixt 180 

England and France might, through their amity, 
Breed him some prejudice ; for from this league 
Peep'd harms that menaced him : he privily 
Deals with our cardinal ; and, as I trow, — 
Which I do well ; for I am sure the emperor 
Paid ere he promised ; whereby his suit was granted 
Ere it was ask'd ; but when the way was made. 
And paved with gold, the emperor thus desired, 
That he would please to alter the king's course, 
And break the foresaid peace. Let the king know, 190 

As soon he shall by me, that thus the cardinal 
Does buy and sell his honour as he pleases. 
And for his own advantage. 

Nor, I am sorry 

To hear this of him ; and could wish he were 
Something mistaken in 't 

Bnck, No, not a syllable : 



SOBNB I.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. H 

I do pronounce him in that very shape 
He shall appear in proof. 

Enter Brandon, a Sergeant-at-arms before him^ and ttoo or 

three of the Guard. 

Bran, Your office, sergeant ; execute it 

Serg, Sir, 

My lord-the Duke of Buckingham, and Earl 
Of Hereford, Staflford, and Northampton, I 200 

Arrest thee of high treason, in the name 
Of our most sovereign king. 

Buck, Lo, you, my lord. 

The net has falPn upon me 1 I shall perish 
Under device and practice. 

Bran. I am sorry 

To see you ta'en from liberty, to look on 
The business present : 'tis his highness' pleasure 
You shall to the Tower. 

Btick, It will help me nothing 

To plead mine innocence ; for that dye is on me 
Which makes my whitest part black. The will of heaven 
Be done in this and all things 1 I obey. 210 

O my Lord Abergavenny, fare you well 1 

Bran. Nay, he must bear you company- The king 

[To Abergavenny. 
Is pleased you shall to the Tower, till you know 
How he determines further. 

Aber. As the duke said, 

The will of heaven be done, and the king's pleasure 
By me obey'd ! 

Bran, : Here is a warrant from 

The king to attach Lord Montacute ; and the bodies 
Of the duke's confessor, John de la Car, 
One Gilbert Peck, his chancellor, — 

Btick. ' So, so ; 

These are the limbs o' the plot : no more, I hope. 220 



12 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act i. 

Brcm. A monk o' the Chartreux. 

BuAih O, Nicholas Hopkins ? 

Bran, He. 

BvAik, My surveyor is false ; the o'er-great cardinal 
Hath shoVd him gold ; my life is spann'd already : 
I am the shadow of poor Buckingham, 
Whose figure even this instant cloud puts on, 
By darkening my clear sun. My lord, farewell. [Exeunt 



ScENB II. TTie same. The council-chamber. 

Comets, Enter the King, leaning on the Cardinal's shoulder , 
the Nobles, and Sir Thomas Lovbll ; the Cardinal places 
himsdf under the KiNG*s/ee^ on his right side. 

King. My life itself, and the best heart of it, 
Thanks you for this great care : I stood i' the level 
Of a full-charged confederacy, and give thanks 
To you that choked it. Let be call'd before us 
That gentleman of Buckingham's ; in person 
1 11 hear him his confessions justify ; 
And point by point the treasons of his master 
He shall again relate. 

A noise within, cn/ing * Boom for the Queen ! ' Enter Queen 
Katharine, ushered by the Duke op Norfolk, and the 
Duke of Suffolk : she kneels. The King riseth from his 
state, takes her up, kisses and placeth her by him, 

Q, Kath, Nay, we miist longer kneel : I am a suitor. 

Kirvg. Arise, and take place by us : half your suit 10 

Never name to us : you have half our power : 
The other moiety, ere you ask, is given ; 
Eepeat your will and take it. 

§. Kath, Thank your majesty. 

That you would love yourself, and in that love 
Not unconsidered leave your honour, nor 



SOKNB n.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 13 

The dignity of your office, is the point 
Of my petition. 

King, Lady mine, proceed. 

Q, Kath. I am solicited, not by a few, 
And those of true condition, that your subjects 
Are in great grievance : there have been commissions 20 
Sent down among 'em, which hath flawed the heart 
Of alt their loyalties : wherein, although. 
My good lord cardinal, they vent reproaches 
Most bitterly on you, as putter on 
Of these exactions, yet the king our master — 
Whose honour heaven shield from soil ! — even he escapes not 
Language unmannerly, yea, such which breaks 
The sides of loyalty, and almost appears 
In loud rebellion. 

Nor. Not almost appears. 

It doth appear ; for, upon these taxations, 30 

The clothiers all, not able to maintain 
The many to them longing, have put off 
The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers, who, 
Unfit for other life, compelM by hunger 
And lack of other means, in desperate manner 
Daring the event to the teeth, are all in uproar. 
And danger serves among them. 

Kiiig, Taxation ! 

Wherein ? and what taxation ? My lord cardinal. 
You that are blamed for it alike with us, 
Know you of this taxation ? 

Wol. Please you, sir, 40 

I know but of a single part, in aught 
Pertains to the state ; and front but in that file 
Where others tell steps with me. 

Q, Kath, No, my lord, 

You know no more than others ; but you fram 
Things that are known alike ; which are not wholesome 
To those which would not know them, and yet must 



U KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act i. 

Perforce be their acquaintance. These exactiotis, 

Whereof my sovereign would have note, they are 

Most pestilent to the hearing ; and, to bear 'em, 

The back is sacrifice to the load. They say 60 

They are devised by you ; or else you suflfer 

Too hard an exclamation. 

King. Still exaction ! 

The nature of it % in what kind, let 's know, 
Is this exaction ? 

Q. Kath, I am much too venturous 

In tempting of your patience ; but am bolden'd 
Under your promised pardon. The subjects' grief 
Gomes through commissions, which compel from each 
The sixth part of his substance, to be levied 
Without delay ; and the pretence for this 
Is named, your wars in France : this makes bold mouths : 60 
Tongues spit their duties out, and cold hearts freeze 
Allegiance in them ; their curses now 
Live where their 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. 

KiTig, By my life, 

This is against our pleasure. 

Wol, And for me, 

I have no further gone in this than by 
A single voice ; and that not pass'd me but 70 

By learned approbation of the judges. If I am 
Traduced 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, 



8C1BNB n.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 15 

Ab ravenous fishes, do a vessel follow 

That is new-trimm'd, but benefit no further 80 

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 whei:e 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 90 

Are to be f ear'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 I 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 questioned send our letters, with 
Free pardon to each man that has denied 100 

The force of this commission : pray, look to 't ; 
I put it to your care, 

WoL A word with you. [To the Secretary, 

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 noised 
That through our intercession this revokement 
And pardon comes : I shall anon advise you 
Further in the proceeding. \Exit Secretary, 

Enter Surveyor. 

Q. Kath, I am sorry that the Puke of Buckingham 
Is run in your displeasure. 



16 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act i. 

King, It grieves many : 110 

The gentleman is learned, 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. Tet see. 
When these so noble benefits shall prove 
Not well disposed, 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 enrolled 'mongst wonders, and when we. 
Almost with ravish'd listening, could not find 120 

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. 

Wol, Stand forth, and with bold spirit relate what you. 
Most like a careful subject, have collected 130 

Out of the Duke of Buckingham. 

KxTig, Speak freely. 

Swrv. First, it was usual with him, every day 
It would infect his speech, that if the king 
Should without issue die, he '11 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 menaced 
Bevenge upon the cardinal. 

W6L Please your highness, note 

This dangerous conception in this point. 
Not friended by his wish, to your high person 140 

His will is most malignant ; and it stretches 
Beyond you, to your friends. 

Q, Kath, My leam'd lord cardinal, 



scBNB n.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 17 

.# 
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 ? 

Snrv. He was brought to this 

By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Hopkins. 

Kiiig, What was that Hopkins ? 

Swrv, Sir, a Chartreux friar, 

His confessor ; who fed him every minute 
With words of sovereignty. 

King, How know'st thou this ? 150 

Surv, Not long before your highness sped to France, 
The duke being at the Bose, within the parish 
Saint Lawrence Poultney, did of me demand 
What was the speech among the Londoners 
Concerning the French journey : I replied, 
Men fear'd 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^ 160 

' Hath sent to me, wishing me to permit 
John de la Oar, 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 gain the love o' the commonalty : the duke 170 

Shall govern England.' ' 

Q, Kath, If I know you well. 

You were the duke's surveyor, and lost your oflBce 

On the coinplaint o' the tenants : take good heed 

9 



18 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act i. 

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. 

Gro forward. 

Swrv, On my soul, I '11 speak but truth. 

I told my lord the duke, by the devil's illusions 
The monk might be deceived ; and that 'twas dangerous for 

him 
To ruminate on this so far, until 180 

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 fail'd, 
The cardinal's and Sir Thomas Lovell's heads 
Should have gone off. 

Kmg, Ha ! what, so rank ? Ah ha 1 

There 's mischief in this man : canst thou say further 1 

8wrv, I can, my liege. 

King. Proceed. 

Bwrv» Being at Greenwich, 

After your highness had reproved the duke 
About Sir William Blomer, — 

King. I remember 190 

Of such a time : being my sworn servant. 
The duke retained him his. But on ; what hence ? 

Surv, ' If,' quoth he, ' I for this had been committed, 
As, to the Tower, I thought, I would have pla/d 
The part my father meant to act upon 
The usurper Eichard ; 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. A giant traitor ! 

Wol. Now, madam, may his highness live in freedom, 200 
And this man out of prison % 



scjBNBii.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 19 

Q, Kath, God mend all 1 

King. There 's something more would out of thee ; what 
say'st ? 

Surv, After * the duke his father,' with * the knife,' 
He stretch'd him, and, with one hand on his dagger. 
Another spread on 's breast, mounting his 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. 

KiTig. There 's his period. 

To sheathe his knife in us. He is attached ; 210 

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 the height. [Eiveunt, 



Scene III. An ante-chamber in the palace. 
Enter the Lord Chamberlain and Lord Sands. 

Cham, 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 follow'd. 

Cham, As far aa I see, all the good our English 
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 'em, you would swear directly 
Their very noses had been counsellors 
To Pepin or Clotharius, they keep state so. 10 

Sands, They have all new legs, and lame ones : one 
would take it, 
That never saw 'em pace before, the spavin 
Or springhalt reign'd among 'em. 



20 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act i. 

Cham, Death I my lord, 

Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too, 
That, sure, they 've worn out Christendom. 



Enter Sir Thoicas Loyell. 



How now ! 



What news, Sir Thomas Lovell ? 

Lov. Faith, my lord, 

I hear of none, but the new proclamation 
That 's clapp'd upon the court-gate. 

Cham. What is t for ? 

Lov, The reformation of our travel I'd gallants. 
That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors. 20 

Cham. I 'm glad 'tis there : now I would pray our 
monsieurs 
To think an English courtier may be wise, 
And never see the Louvre. 

Lov, They must either, 

For so run the conditions, leave those remnants 
Of fool and feather that they got in France, 
Wfth 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, 30 

Short blister'd breeches, 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 'em physic, their diseases 
Are grown so catching. 

Cham. What a loss our ladies 

Will have of these trim vanities ! 

Lov, Ay, marry. 



SOBNB m.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 21 

There will be woe indeed, lords : 

A French song and a fiddle has no fellow. 40 

Sands, The devil fiddle 'em ! I am glad they are going, 
For, sure, there 's no converting of 'em : 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. 

Chavn, Well said. Lord Sands ; 

Your colt's tooth is not cast yet. 

Sands. No, my lord ; 

Nor shall not, while I have a stump. 

Cham. Sir Thomas, 

Whither were you a-going ? 

Lov. To the cardinal's : 

Your lordship is a guest too. 

Cham. O, 'tis true : 50 

This night he makes a supper, and a great one, 
To many lords and ladies ; there will be 
The beauty of this kingdom, I '11 assure you. 

Lov. That churchman bears a bounteous miud indeed, 
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 ; has wherewithal ; in him 
Sparing would show a worse sin than ill doctrine : 
Men of his way should be most liberal ; 60 

They are set here for examples. 

Cham. True, they are so ; 

But few now give so great ones. My barge stays ; 
Your lordship shall along. Come, good Sir Thomas, 
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. [Exeunt 



22 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act i. 

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 Gentlemen as guests, at one door ; 
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, 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 're 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. 

Sweet ladies, will it please you sit ? Sir Harry, 10 

Place you that side ; I '11 take the charge of this : 
His grace is entering. Nay, you must not freeze ; 
Two women placed together makes cold weather : 
My Lord Sands, you are one will keep 'em waking ; 
Pray, sit between these ladies. 

Sands. By my faith. 

And thank your lordship. By your leave, sweet ladies : 
If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me ; 
I had it from my father. 

Ann^e, Was he mad, sir ? 

Sands. O, very mad, exceeding mad, in love too : 
But he would bite none ; just as I do now, 20 

He would kiss you twenty with a breath. [Kisses her, 

Cham, Well said, my lord. 

So, now you 're fairly seated. Gentlemen, 
The penance lies on you, if these fair ladies 



SOBNB IV.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 23 

Ftos away frowning. 

Sands, For my little cure, 

Let me alone. 

Hautboys. Enter Cardinal Wolset, and takes his state. 

Wcl. You 're 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, 30 

And save me so much talking. 

W6L. My Lord Sands, 

I am beholding to you : cheer your neighbours. 
Ladies, you are not merry : gentlemen, 
Whose fault is this ? 

Samds. The red wine first must rise 

In their fair cheeks, my lord ; then we shall have 'em 
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, — 

Anne. You cannot show me. 

Sands. I told your grace they would talk anon. 

\Drvm and trumpet, chambers discharged. 

WoL What 's that ? 

Cham. Look out there, some of ye. [Exit Servant. 

WoL What warlike voice, 41 

And to what end, is this ? Nay, ladies, fear not ; 
By all the laws of war you 're privileged. 

Re-enter Servant. 

Cham. How now I what is 't ? 

Serv. A noble troop of strangers ; 



24 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [aot l 

For so they seem : they Ve left their barge and landed ; 
And hither make, as great ambassadors 
From foreign princes. 

Wot. Gk>od lord chamberlain, 

€k>, give 'em welcome ; you can speak the French tongue ; 
And, pray, receive 'em nobly, and conduct 'em 
Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty 60 

Shall shine at full upon them. Some attend him. 

[Ejnt Chamberlain, attended. All rise, and tables removed. 
Tou have now a broken banquet ; but we '11 mend it. 
A good digestion to you all : and once more 
I shower a welcome on you ; welcome alL 

Hautboys. Enter the King and others, as masquers, habited 
like shepherds, ushered hy the Lord Chamberlain. They 
pass directly before the Cardinal, and gracefuUy salute 
him, 

A noble company ! what are their pleasures ? 

Cham, Because they speak no English, thus they pray'd 
To 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, >60 

But leave their flocks ; and, under your fair conduct, 
Crave leave to view these ladies and entreat 
An hour of revels with 'em. 

Wot, Say, lord chamberlain, 

They have done my poor house grace ; for which I pay 'em 
A thousand thanks, and pray 'em take their pleasures. 

[They choose Ladies for the dance. 
The King chooses Anns BuUen. 

King, The fairest hand I ever touch'd I O beauty. 
Till now I never knew thee 1 [Music, Dance, 

Wd, My lord ! 

Chxvm, Your grace ? 

Wol. ^1^7) tell 'em thus much from me : 



SCENE IV.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 25 

There should be one amongst 'em, hj his person, 

More worthy this place than myself ; to whom, "70 

If I but knew him, with my love and duty 

I would surrender it. 

Charn. I will, my lord, [ Whispers the Masquers. 

Wol. What say they 1 

Cham. Such a one, they all confess, 

There is indeed ; which they would have your grace 
Find out, and he will take it 

Wol, Let me see, then. 

By all your good leaves, gentlemen ; here I '11 make 
My royal choice. 

King. Ye have found him, cardinal : [Unmasking. 

You hold a fair assembly ; you do well, lord : 
You are a churchman, or I *11 tell you, cardinal, 
I should judge now unhappily. 

Wol. 1 am glad 80 

Your grace is grown so pleasant. 

King. My lord chamberlain, 

Prithee, come hither : what fair lady 's that ? 

Cham. An't please your grace, Sir Thonms BuUen's 
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 1 
Let it go round. 

Wol. Sir Thomas Lovell, is the banquet ready 
F the privy chamber ? 

Lov. Yes, my lord, 

Wol. Your grace, 90 

I fear, with dancing is a little heated. 

King. I fear, too much. 

Wol. There *s fresher air, my lord, 

In the next chamber. 

King. Lead in your ladies, every one : sweet partner, 



26 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act ii. 

I must not yet forsake you : let 's 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 let 's dream 
Who *s best in favour. Let the music knock it. 

[Exeunt with trmnpets. 



ACT II. 

Scene I. Westminster, A street 
Enter two Gentlemen, meeting. 

First Gent, Whither away so fast ? 

Sec, Gent, O, God save ye ! 

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

First Gent, 1 '11 save you 

That labour, sir. All 's now done, but the ceremony 
Of bringing back the prisoner. 

Sec, Gent, Were you there ? 

First Gent, Yes, indeed, was I. 

Sec, Gent, Pray> speak what has happened. 

First Gent, You may guess quickly what 

Sec. Gent, Is he found guilty ? 

First Gent, Yes, truly is he, and condemned upon 't. 

Sec, Gent, I am sorry for 't. 

First Gent, So are a number more. 

Sec, Gent, But, pray, how pass'd it 1 10 

First Gent, I '11 tell you in a little. The great duke 
Came to the bar ; where to his accusations 
He pleaded still not guilty and alleged 
Many sharp reasons to defeat the law. 
The king's attorney on the contrary 
Urged on the examinations, proofs, confessions 
Of divers witnesses ; which the duke desired 



SCENE I.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 27 

To have brought vivft voce to his face : 

At which appeared against him his surveyor ; 

Sir Gilbert Peck his chancellor ; and John Car, 20 

Confessor to him ; with that devil-monk, 

Hopkins, that made this mischief. 

Sec Oent. That was he 

That fed him with his prophecies ? 

First Gent 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 learnedly, for life ; but all 
Was either pitied in him or forgotten. 

Sec, Oent After all this, how did he bear himself ? 30 

First Gent, When he was brought again to the bar, to 
hear 
His knell rung out, his judgement, he was stirr'd 
With such an agony, he sweat extremely. 
And something spoke in choler, ill, and hasty : 
But he fell to himself again, and sweetly 
In all the rest showed a most noble patience. 

Sec, Gent, I do not think he fears death. 

First Gent, Sure, he does not : 

He never was so womanish ; the cause 
He may a little grieve at. 

Sec Gent, Certainly. 

The cardinal is the end of this. 

First Gent Tis likely, 40 

By all conjectures : first, Kildare's attainder. 
Then deputy of Ireland ; who removed, 
Earl Surrey was sent thither, and in haste too. 
Lest he should help his father. 

Sec, Gent. That trick of state 

Was a deep envious one. 

First Gent At his return 



28 KIKG HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act ii. 

No doubt he will requite it. This is noted, 

And generally, whoever the king favours, 

Hie cardinal instantly will find employment. 

And far enough from court too. 
Sec. Oent. All the commons 

Hate him perniciously, and, o' my conscience, 50 

Wish him ten fathom deep : this duke as much 

They love and dote on ; call him bounteous Buckingham, 

The mirror of all courtesy ; — 
First Gent, Stay there, sir, 

And see the noble ruin'd man you speak of. 

Enter Buceinoham from his arraignment; tipstaves before 
him; the axe vnth the edge towards him; halberds on each 
side: accompanied vnth Sir Thomas Lovell, Sir Nicholas 
Vaxjx, Sir William Sands, and common people. 

Sec. Oent. 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 received a traitor's judgement. 
And by that name must die : yet, heaven bear witness, 
And if I have a conscience, let it sink me, 60 

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 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 ne'er hope. 
Nor will I sue, although the king have mercies 70 

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 



80BNB L] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 29 

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, 

And lift my soul to heaven. Lead on, o' God's name. 

Lov, I do beseech your grace, for charity. 
If ever any malice in your heart 80 

Were hid against me, now to forgive me frankly. 

Btuik. Sir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive you 
As I would be forgiven : I forgive all ; 
There cannot be those numberless ofifences 
'Gainst me, 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 aro the king's ; and, till my soul forsake. 
Shall cry for blessings on him : may he live 90 

Longer than I have time 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 ! 

Lov, To the water side I must conduct your grace ; 
Then give my charge up to Sir Nicholas Yaux, 
Who imdertakes you to your end. 

Vaux, 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, 100 

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 what truth meant : I now seal it ; 
And with that blood will make 'em one day groan for 't 
My noble father, Henry of Buckingham, 



30 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act ii. 

Who first raised head against usurping Bichard, 

Flying for succour to his servant Banister, 

Being distressed, was by that wretch betray'd, 110 

And without trial fell ; Grod's peace be with him I 

Henry the Seventh succeeding, truly pitying 

My father's 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 makes me 

A little happier than my wretched father : 120 

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 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 130 

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. 

Speak how I fell. I have done ; and God forgive me 1 

[Exeunt Dttke and Train, 

First Gent 0, this is full of pity ! Sir, it calls, 
I fear, too many curses on their heads 
That were the authors. 

Sec. Gent. If the duke be guiltless, 

Tis full of woe : yet I can give you inkling 140 

Of an ensuing evil, if it fall, 



SCENE I.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 31 

Greater than this. 

First Gent, Good angels keep it from us ! 

What may it be ? You do not doubt my faith, sir ? 

Sec, Gent, This secret is so weighty, 'twill require 
A strong faith to conceal it. 

First Gent, Let me have it ; 

I do not talk much. 

Sec, Gent. I am confident ; 

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

First Gent, Yes, but it held not : 

For when the king once heard it, out of anger 150 

He sent command to the lord mayor straight 
To stop the rumour, and allay those tongues 
That durst disperse it. 

Sec 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, possessed him with a scruple 
That will undo her : to confirm this too, 
Cardinal Campeius is arrived, and lately ; 160 

As all think, for this business. 

First 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 purposed. 

Sec, 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. 

First Gent. 'Tis woful. 

We are too open here to argue this ; 
Let 's think in private more. [Exeunt, 



32 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act n. 

Scene IL An cmte-chamber in the palace. 

Enter the Lobd 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 caixiinal'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.' 

I fear he will indeed : well, let him have them : 
He will have all, I think. 10 

Enter, to the Lord Chamberlain, the Dukes of Norfolk and 

Suffolk. 

Ifor, Well met, my lord chamberlain. 

Cham. Good day to both your graces. 

Suf. How is the king employed ? 

Chxim. I left him private, 

Full of sad thoughts and troubles. 

Nor. What 's the cause ? 

Cham^ It seems the marriage with his brother's wife 
Has crept too near his conscience. 

Suf. 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. 20 

Suf. Pray God he do ! he '11 never know himself else. 

Nor. How holily he works in all his business ! 
And with what zeal I for, now he has crack'd the league 
Between us and the emperor, the queen's great nephew. 
He dives into the king's soul, and there scatters 
Bangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience, 



sOBNifi n.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 33 

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 30 

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 'em, 
And every true heart weeps for 't : all that ilare 
Look into these affairs see this main end. 
The French king's sister. Heaven will one day open 40 
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 like one lump before him, to be fashion'd 
Into what pitch he please. 

Suf, For me, my lords, 

I love him not, nor fear him ; there 's my creed : 
As I am made without him, so 1 11 stand, 60 

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

Nor, Let 's in ; 

And with some other business put the king 
From these sad thoughts, that work too much upon him * 
My lord, you *11 bear us company ? 

ChoMfn, Excuse me ; 



34 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH, [act n. 

The king has sent me otherwhere : besides, 

You '11 fiud a most unfit time to disturb him : 

Health to your lordships. 

Nor, Thanks, my good lord chamberlain. 

[Exit Lord Chainberlain ; cmd the King draws 
the curtaifiy and sits reading pensively, 

Suf, How sad he looks ! sure, he is much afflicted. 61 

King, Who 's there, ha ? 

Nor, Pray (Jod he be not angry. 

King, Who 's there, I say % How dare you thrust your- 
selves 
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. 

King, Ye are too bold : 

Gk> to ; I '11 make ye know your times of business : 70 

Is this an hour for temporal affairs, ha ? 

Enter Wolsbt and Campbius, with a commission. 

Who 's there ? my good lord cardinal ? O mj Wolsey, 
The quiet of my wounded conscience ; 

Thou art a cure fit for a king. [To Camp,] You're wel- 
come. 
Most learned reverend sir, into our kingdom : 
Use us and it. [To Wbl,] My good lord, have great care 
I be not found a talker. 

Wol, Sir, you cannot. 

I would your grace would give us but an hour 
Of private conference. 

King, [To Nor, <md /S'm/.] We are busy ; go. 79 

Nor, [Aside to Suf.] This priest has no pride in him ? 

Suf. [Aside to Nor,] Not to speak of : 

I would not be so sick though for his place : 



SCENE n.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 35 

But this cannot continue. . 

Nor, [Aside to Suf,"] If it do, 
I 'U Tenture one have-at-him, 

Suf. [Aside toNorJl I another. [Exeunt Nor, and Suf, 

Wol. 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 1 
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, 90 

I mean the learned ones, in Christian kingdoms 
Have their free voices : Borne, the nurse of judgement^ 
Invited by your noble self, hath s^nt 
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 loves : 
They have sent me such a man I would have wish'd for. 

Cam, Your grace must needs deserve all strangers' loves, 
You are so noble. To your highness* hand 101 

I tender my commission ; by whose virtue. 
The court of Home commanding, you, my lord 
Cardinal of York, are join'd with me their servant 
In the unpartial judging of this business. 

King, Two equal men. The queen shall be acquainted 
Forthwith for what you come. Where 's Gardiner ? 

Wol. 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 : 110 

Scholars alloVd freely to argue for her. 

King, Ay, and the best she shall have ; and my favour 
To him that does best : God forbid else. Cardinal, 
Prithee, call Gardiner to ine, my new secretary : 
I find him a fit fellow. [Exit Wolsey, 



36 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act n. 

Re-enter Wolsbt, with Gardiner. 

Wol, [Aside to Oard.'\ Give me your hand : much joy and 
favour to you ; 
You are the king's now. 

Oard, [Aside to Wol,"] But to be commanded 
For ever by your grace, whose hand has raised me. 

Kivg. Come hither, Gardiner. [ Walks and whispers. 

Cam, My lord of York, was not one Doctor Pace 120 

In this man's place before him 1 

Wol. Yes, he was. 

Cam. Was he not held a learned man ? 

Wol. Yes, surely. 

Cam. Believe me, there 's an ill opinion spread then 
Even of yourself, lord cardinal. 

Wol. How ! of me 1 

Cam. They will not stick to say you envied him. 
And fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous, 
Kept him a foreign man still ; which so grieved him, 
That he ran mad and died. 

Wol. Heaven's peace be with him ! 

That 's Christian care enough : for living murmurers 
There 's places of rebuke. He was a fool ; 130 

For 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 grip'd by meaner persons. 

King. Deliver this with modesty to the queen. 

[Exit Gardiner. 
The most convenient place that I can think of 
For such receipt of learning is Black -Friars ; 
There ye shall meet about this weighty business. 
My Wolsey, see it f umish'd. O, my lord. 
Would it not grieve an able man to leave 140 

So sweet a bedfellow ? But, conscience, conscience ! 
Oj'tis a tender place ; and I must leave her. [Exeunt. 



soBHBm.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 37 

ScBNB III. An ante-chamber of the Queen's apartmefits. 
Enter Anne Bullbn and an Old Lady. 

Anne. Not for that neither ; here 's 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 her ; by my life, 
She never Jmew harm-doing : O, now, after 
So many courses of the sun enthroned, 
Still growing in a majesty and pomp, the which 
To leave 's a thousand-fold more bitter than 
'Tis sweet at first to acquire, — after this process. 
To give her the avaunt 1 it is a pity 10 

Would move a monster. 

Old L, Hearts of most hard temper 

Melt and lament for her. 

Anne. O, God's will 1 much better 

She ne'er had kilown pomp ; though 't be temporal, 
Yet, if that quarrel, fortune, do divorce 
It from the bearer, 'tis a sufferance panging 
As soul and body's severing. 

Old L, Alas, poor lady ! 

She 's a stranger now again. 

Anne. So much the more 

Must pity drop upon her. Verily, 
I swear, 'tis better to be lowly bom, 

And range with humble livers in content, 20 

Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief, 
And wear a golden sorrow. 

Old L. Our content 

Is our best having. 

Ann£. By my troth and maidenhead, 

I would not be a queen. 

Old L. Beshrew me, I would. 

And venture maidenhead for 't ; and so would you, 



38 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act n. 

For all this spice of your hypocrisy : 

You, that have so fair parts of woman on you, 

Have too a woman's heart ; which ever yet 

Affected eminence, wealth, sovereignty ; 

Which, to say sooth, are blessings ; and which gifts, 30 

Saving your mincing, the capacity 

Of your soft cheveril conscience would receive, 

If you might please to stretch it; 

Anne. Nay, good troth. 

Old L. Yes, troth, and troth ; you would not be a 
queen ? 

Anne, No, not for all the riches under heaven. 

Old L, Tis strange : a three-pence bow'd 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. 

Enter the Lord Chamberlain. 

Cham. Good morrow, ladies. What were 't worth to know 
The secret of your conference ? 

Anne, My good lord, 41 

Not your demand ; it values not your asking : 
Our mistress* sorrows we were pitying. 

Cham. It was a gentle business, and becoming 
The action of good women : there is hope 
All will be well. 

Anne. Now, I pray God, amen ! 

Cham. You bear a gentle mind, and heavenly blessings 
Follow such creatures. That you may, fair lady, 
Perceive I speak sincerely, and high note 's 
Ta'en of your many virtues, the king's majesty 50 

Commends his good opinion of you, and 
Does purpose honour to you no less flowing 
Than Marchioness of Pembroke ; to which title 
A thousand pound a year, annual support, 



80KNB m.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 39 

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 hallow'd, nor my wishes 
More worth than empty vanities ; yet prayers and wishes 
Are all I can return. Beseech your lordship, 60 

Vouchsafe to speak my thanks and my obedience, 
As from a blushing handmaid, to his highness ; 
Whose health and royalty I pray for. 

Cham, Lady, 

I shall not fail to approve the fair conceit 
The king hath of you. \A9ide\ I have perused her well ; 
Beauty and honour in her are so mingled 
That they have caught the king : and who knows yet 
But from this lady may proceed a gem 
To lighten all this isle ? I '11 to the king, 
And say I spoke with you. \Exit Lord Chamberlain, 

Anns, My honour'd lord. 70 

Old L, Why, this it is ; see, see ! 
I have been begging sixteen years in court, 
Am yet a courtier beggarly, nor could 
Come pat betwixt too early and too late 
For any suit of pounds ; and you, O fate ! 
A very fresh-fish here— fie, fie, fie upon 
This compelled fortune !— have your mouth filPd up 
Before you open it. 

Aniae, This is strange to me. 

Old L, How tastes it ? is it bitter ? forty pence, no. 
There was a lady once, 'tis an old story, 80 

That would not be a queen, that would she not. 
For all the mud in Egypt : have you heard it ? 

Anne, Come, you are pleasant. 

Old L, With your theme, I could 

O'ermount the lark. The Marchioness of Pembroke ! 
A thousand pounds a year for pure respect ! 



40 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act n. 

No other obligation I By my life, 
That promises moe thousands : honour's train 
Is longer than his foreskirt. By this time 
I know your back will bear a duchess : say, 
Are you not stronger than you were ? 

Anne, Good lady, 90 

Make yourself mirth with your particular fancy, 
And leave me out on 't Would I had no being. 
If this salute my blood a jot : it faints me, 
To think what follows. 
The queen is comfortless, and we forgetful 
In our long absence : pray, do not deliver 
What here you *ve heard to her. 

Old L, What do you think me ? [Exeunt, 

Scene IV. A hall in BUzck-Friars, 

TrumpetSj sennet, and comets. Enter two Vergers, mth short 
silver wands ; next them, two Scribes, in the habit of doctors; 
after them, the Archbishop of Canterbury alone; after 
him, the Bishops of Lincoln, Elt, Bochester, and Saint 
Asaph ; next them, with soms small distance, follows a 
Gentleman hearing the purse, with the great seal, and a 
cardinaVs hat ; then two Priests, bearing each a silver cross; 
then a Gentleman -usher bare-headed, accompanied with a 
Sergeant-at-arms bearing a silver mace; then tivo Gentle- 
men bearing two great silver pillars; after them, side by 
side, the two Cardinals ; two Noblemen with the sword and 
mace. The King takes place under the doth of state ; the 
two Cardinals sit under him a>s judges. The Queen takes 
place some distance from the King. The Bishops place 
themselves on each side the court, in manner of a consistory; 
below them, the Scribes. The Lords sit next the Bishops. 
The rest of the Attendants stand in convenient order cUnrnt 
the stage, 

Wol, Whilst our commission from Home is read, 
Let silence be commanded. 



soBNBiv.] KING HENBY THE EIGHTH. 4] 

King, What 's the need ? 

It hath already publicly been read. 
And on all sides the authority allow'd ; 
You may, then, spare that time. 

Wcl, Be *t so. Proceed. 

Scribe, Say, Henry King of England, come into the 
court 

Crier. Henry King of England, &c. 

King. Here. 

Scribe, Say, Katharine Queen of England, come into the 
court 1 1 

Crier. Katharine Queen of England, &c 

[The Qvsen makes no answer, rises out of her chair, goes 
about the court, comes to the King, and kneels at his 
feet J* thenspeaJcs. 

Q. Kath. Sir, I desire you do me right and justice ; 
And to bestow your pity on me : for 
I am a most poor woman, and a stranger, 
Born out of your dominions ; having here 
No judge indifferent, nor no more assurance 
Of equal friendship and proceeding. Alas, sir, 
In what have I offended you ? what cause 
Hath my behaviour given to your displeasure, 20 

That thus you should proceed to put me off, 
And take your good grace from me 1 Heaven witness, 
I have been to you a true and humble wife. 
At all times to your will conformable ; 
Ever in fear to kindle your dislike, 
Yea, subject to your countenance, glad or sorry 
As I saw it inclined : when was the hour 
I ever contradicted your desire. 
Or made it not mine too ? Or which of your friends 
Have I not strove to love, although I knew 30 

He were mine enemy ? what friend of mine 
That had to him derived your anger, did I 
Continue in my liking ? nay, gave notice 



42 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act u. 

He was from thence discharged ? Sir, call to mind . 

That I have been your wife, in this obedience, 

Upward of twenty years,, and have been blest 

With many children by you : if, in the course 

And process of this time, you can report. 

And prove it too, against mine honour aught. 

My bond to wedlock, or my love and duty, 40 

Against your sacred person, in God's name. 

Turn me away ; and let the fouPst contempt 

Shut door upon me, and so give me up 

To the sharpest kind of justice. Please you, sir. 

The king, your father, was reputed for 

A prince most prudent, of an excellent 

And unmatched wit and judgement : Ferdinand, 

My father, king of Spain, was reckoned one 

The wisest- prince that there had reign'd by many 

A year before : it is not to be questioned 50 

That they had gather'd a wise council to them 

Of every realm, that did debate this business. 

Who deem'd our marriage lawful : wherefore I humbly 

Beseech you, sir, to spare me, till I may 

Be by my friends in Spain advised ; whose counsel 

I will implore : if not, f the name of God, 

Your pleasure be fulfilled ! 

Wol. You have here, lady, 

And of your choice, these reverend fathers ; men 
Of singular integrity and learning. 

Yea, the elect o' the land, who are assembled 60 

To plead your cause : it shall be therefore bootless 
That longer you desire the court ; as well 
For your own quiet, as to rectify 
What is unsettled in the king. 

Cam, His grace 

Hath spoken well and justly : therefore, madam. 
It 's fit this royal session do proceed ; 
And that, without delay, their arguments 



SCBNB IV.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 43 

Be now produced and heard. 

Q. Kath. Lord cardinal, 

To you I speak. 

Wol, Tour pleasure, madam ? 

Q.Kath. Sir 

I am about to weep ; but, thinking that 70 

We are a queen, or long have dream'd so, certain 
The daughter of a king, my drops of tears 
I '11 turn to sparks of fire. 

Wol, Be patient yet. 

Q, Kath. I will, when you are humble ; nay, before, 
Or God will punish me. I do believe, 
Induced by potent circumstances, that 
You are mine enemy, and make my challenge 
You shall not be my judge ; for it is you 
Have blown this coal betwixt my lord and me : 
Which God's dew quench I Therefore I say again, 80 

I utterly abhor, yea, from my soul 
Refuse you for my judge ; whom, yet once more, 
I hold my most malicious foe, and think not 
At all a friend to truth. 

WcL I do profess 

You speak not like yourself ; who ever yet 
Have stood to charity, and displayed the effects 
Of disposition gentle, and of wisdom 
Overtopping woman's power. Madam, you do me wrong : 
I have no spleen against you ; nor injustice 
For you or any ; how far I have proceeded, 90 

Or how far further shall, is warranted 
By a commission from the consistory, 
Yea, the whole consistory of Rome. You charge me 
That I have blown this coal : I do deny it : 
The king is present : if it be known to him 
That I gainsay my deed, how may he wound, 
And worthily, my falsehood ! yea, as much 
As you have done my truth. If he know 



44 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [ACfP n. 

That I am free of your report, he knows 

I am not of jour wrong. Therefore in him 100 

It lies to cure me : and the cure is, to 

Remove these thoughts from you : the which before 

His highness shall speak in, I do beseech 

You, gracious madam, to unthink your speaking 

And to say so no more. 

Q, Kath, My lord, my lord, 

I am a simple woman, much too weak 
To oppose your cunning. You're meek and humble-mouth'd ; 
You sign your place and calling, in full seeming. 
With meekness and humility ; but your heart 
Is cramm'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride. 110 

You have, by fortune and his highness' favours. 
Gone slightly o'er low steps and now are mounted 
Where powers are your retainers, and your words, 
Domestics to you, serve your will as *t please 
Yourself pronounce their office. I must tell you, 
You tender more your person's honour than 
Your high profession spiritual : that again 
I do refuse you for my judge ; and here. 
Before you all, appeal unto the pope, 

To bring my whole cause 'fore his holiness, 120 

And to be judged by him. 

[She curtsies to the King^ and offers to depart. 

Cam, The queen is obstinate, 

Stubborn to justice, apt to accuse it, and 
Disdainful to be tried by 't : 'tis not well. 
She 's going away. 

King, Call her again. 

Crier. Katharine Queen of England, come into the court. 

Grif, Madam, you are call'd back. 

Q, Kath. What need you note it? pray you, keep your 
way : 
When you are calPd, return. Now, the Lord help, 
They vex me past my patience ! Pray you, pass on : 130 



SCENE IV.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 46 

I will not tany ; no, nor ever more 

Upon this business my appearance make 

In any of their courts. [Exeunt Queen, and her Attendants, 

King. Go thy ways, Kate : 

That man i' the world who shall report he has 
A better wife, let him in nought be trusted, 
For speaking false in that : thou art, alone, 
If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness. 
Thy meekness saiut>like, wife-like government, 
Obeying in commanding, and thy parts 
Sovereign and pious else, could speak thee out, 140 

The queen of earthly queens ; she 's noble born ; 
And, like her true nobility, she has 
Carried herself towards me. 

WoL Most gracious sir, 

In humblest manner I require your highness. 
That it shall please you to declare, in hearing 
Of all these ears, — for where I am robVd and bound. 
There must I be unloosed, although not there 
At once and fully satisfied, — whether ever I 
Did broach this business to your highness ; or 
Laid any scruple in your way, which might 150 

Induce you to the question on 't ? or ever 
Have to you, but with thanks to God for such 
A royal lady, spake one the least word that might 
Be to the prejudice of her present state. 
Or touch of her good person ? 

King, My lord cardinal, 

I do excuse you ; yea, upon mine honour, 
I free you from 't. You are not to be taught 
That you have many enemies, that know not 
Why they are so, but, like to village- curs. 
Bark when their fellows do : by some of these 160 

The queen is put in auger. You 're excused : 
But will you be more justified ? you ever 
Have wish'd the sleeping of this business ; never desired 



46 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act n. 

It to be stirr'd ; but oft have hindered, oft, 

The passages made toward it : on my honour, 

I speak my good lord cardinal to this point, 

And thus far clear him. Now, what moved me to 't, . 

I will be bold with time and your attention : 

Then mark the inducement. Thus it came ; give heed to 't : 

My conscience first received a tenderness, 170 

Scruple, and prick, on certain speeches utter'd 

By the Bishop of Bayonne, then French ambassador ; 

Who had been hither sent on the debating 

A marriage 'twixt the Duke of Orleans and 

Our daughter Mary : i' the progress of this business, 

Ere a determinate resolution, he, 

I mean the bishop, did require a respite ; 

Wherein he might the king his lord advertise 

Whether our daughter were legitimate, 

Bespecting this our marriage with the dowager, 180 

Sometimes our brother's wife. This respite shook 

The bosom of my conscience, enter'd me. 

Tea, with a splitting power, and made to tremble 

The region of my breast ; which forced such way. 

That many mazed considerings did throng 

And press'd in with this caution. First, methought 

I stood not in the smile of heaven ; who had 

Commanded nature, that my lady's womb. 

If it conceived a male child by me, should 

Do no more offices of life to 't than 190 

The grave does to the dead ; for her male issue 

Or died where they were made, or shortly after 

This world had air'd them : hence I took a thought. 

This was a judgement on me ; that my kingdom, 

Well worthy the best heir o' the world, should not 

Be gladded in 't by me : then follows, that 

I weigh'd the danger which my realms stood iu 

By this my issue's fail ; and that gave to me 

Many a groaning throe. Thus hulling in . 



SCBNB IV.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 47 

The wild sea of my conscience, I did steer 200 

Toward this remedy, whereupon we are 

Now present here together ; that 's to say, 

I meant to rectify my conscience,— which 

I then did feel full sick, and yet not well, — 

By all the reverend fathers of the land 

And doctors leam'd : first I began in private 

With you, my Lord of Lincoln ; you remember 

How under my oppression I did reek. 

When I first moved you. 

Lin, Very well, my liege. 

Kiivg, I have spoke long : be pleased yourself to say 210 
How far you satisfied me. 

lAn, So please your highness. 

The question did at first so stagger me. 
Bearing a state of mighty moment in 't 
And consequence of dread, that I committed 
The daring^st council which I had to doubt ; 
And did entreat your highness to this course 
Which you are running here. 

King, I then moved you. 

My Lord of CSanterbury ; and got your leave 
To make this present summons : unsolicited 
I left no reverend person in this court ; 220 

But by particular consent proceeded 
Under your hands and seals : therefore, go on ; 
For no dislike f the world against the person 
Of the good queen, but the sharp thorny points 
Of my alleged reasons, drive this forward : 
Prove but our marriage lawful, by my life 
And kingly dignity, we are contented 
To wear our mortal state to come with her, 
Katharine our queen, before the primest creature 
That's paragon'd o' the world. 

Cam, So please your highness, 230 

The queen being absent, 'tis a needful fitness 



48 KING HENBT THE EIGHTH. [act m. 

That we adjourn this court till farther day : 
Meanwhile must be an earnest motion 
Made to the queen, to call back her appeal 
She intends unto his holiness. 

King, [Asidel I may perceive 

Tliese cardinals trifle with me : I abhor 
This dilatory sloth and tricks of Bome. 
My learn'd and well-beloved servant, Cranmer, 
Prithee, return : with thy approach, I know, 
My comfort comes along. Break up the court : 240 

I say, set on. [Exeunt in manner as they entered* 



ACT IIL 

Scene I. London, The Queen's apartments. 

Enter the Queen and her Women^ as at work, 

Q, Kath, Take thy lute, wench : my soul grows sad with 
troubles ; 
Sing, and disperse 'em, if thou canst : leave working. 

Song. 

Orpheus with his lute made trees. 
And the mountain tops that freeze, 

Bow themselves when he did sing : 
To his music plants and flowers 
Ever sprung ; as sun and showers 

There had made a lasting spring. 

Every thing that heard him play, 

Even the billows of the sea, 10 

Hung their heads, and then lay by. 
In sweet music is such art. 
Exiling care and grief of heart 

Fall asleep, or hearing, die. 



SCENE I] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 49 

Miter a Gentleman. 

Q, Kath. How now ! 

OerU. An 'fc please your grace, the two great cardinals 
Wait in the presence. 

Q. Kath, Would they speak with me % 

Oent They will'd me say so, madam. 

Q, Kath, Pray their graces 

To come near. [Exit Oent,^ What can be their business 
With me, a poor weak woman, falPn from favour ? 20 

I do not like their coming. Now I think on *t, 
They should be good men ; their affairs as righteous : 
But all hoods make not monks. 

Enter the two Cardinals, Wolsey avid Campbius. 

Well. Peace to your highness ! 

Q, Kath, Your graces find me here part of a housewife, 
I would be all, against, the worst may happen. 
What are your pleasures with me, reverend lords ? 

Woh May it please you, noble madam, to withdraw 
Into your private chamber, we shall give you 
The full cause of our coming. 

Q. Kath, Speak it here : 

There 's nothing I have done yet, o* my conscience, 30 

Deserves a comer : would all other women 
Could speak this with as free a soul as I do ! 
My lords, I care not, so much I am happy 
Above a number, if my actions 
Were tried by every tongue, every eye saw 'em, 
Envy and base opinion set against 'em, 
I know my life so even. If your business 
Seek me out, and that way I am wife in. 
Out with it boldly : truth loves open dealing. 

WoL Tanta est erga te mentis integritas, regina seren- 
issima, — 41 

Q. Kath. O, good my lord, no Latin ; 
I am not such a truant since my coming, 

D 



50 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act. in. 

As not to know the language I have lived in : 

A str^tPge tongue makes my cause more strange, suspicious ; 

Pray, speak in English : here are some will thank you, 

If you speak truth, for their poor mistress' sake ; 

Believe me, she has had much wrong : lord cardinal, 

The willing'st sin I ever yet committed 

May be absolved in English. 

Wol Noble lady, 60 

I am sorry my integrity should breed, 
And service to his majesty and you, 
So deep suspicion, where all faith was meant. 
We come not by the way of accusation. 
To taint that honour every good tongue blesses. 
Nor to betray you any way to sorrow. 
You have too much, good lady ; but to know 
How you stand minded in the weighty difference * 

Between the king and you ; and to deliver. 
Like free and honest men, our just opinions 60 

And comforts to your cause. 

Cam. Most honour'd madam, 

My Lord of York, out of his noble nature. 
Zeal and obedience he still bore your grace. 
Forgetting, like a good man, your late censure 
Both of his truth and him, which was too- far, 
Offers, as I do, in a sign of peace, 
His service and his counsel. 

Q. Kath. [Aside] To betray me. — 

My lords, I thank you both for your good wills ; 
Ye speak like honest men ; pray God, ye prove so ! 
But how to make ye suddenly an answer, 70 

In such a point of weight, so near mine honour, — 
More near my life, I fear, — with my weak wit^ 
And to such men of gravity and learning. 
In truth, I know not. I was set at work 
Among my maids ; full little, Gk)d knows, looking 
Either for such men or such business. 



SCENB I.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 51 

For her sake that I have been, — for I feel 

The last fit of my greatness, — good your graces, 

Let me have time and counsel for my cause : 

Alas, I am a woman, friendless, hopeless ! 80 

Wol. Madam, you wrong the king's love with these fears : 
Your hopes and friends are infinite. 

Q. Kath In England 

But little for my profit : can you think, lords, 
That any Englishman dare give me counsel ? 
Or be a known friend, 'gainst his highness* pleasure, 
Though he be grown so desperate to be honest. 
And live a subject ? Nay, forsooth, my friends, 
They that must weigh out my afflictions, 
They that my trust must grow to, live not here : 
They are, as all my other comforts, far hence 90 

In mine own country, lords. 

Cam, I would your grace 

Would leave your griefs, and take my counsel. 

Q, Kath, How, sir ? 

Cam, Put your main cause into the king's protection ; 
He 's loving and most gracious : 'twill be much 
Both for your honour better and your cause ; 
For if the trial of the law overtake ye, 
You '11 part away disgraced. 

Wol, He tells you rightly. 

Q, Kath, Ye tell me what ye Wish for both, — my ruin : 
Is this your Christian counsel ? out upon ye 1 
Heaven is above all yet ; there sits a judge 100 

That no king can corrupt. ' 

Cam, Your rage mistakes us. 

Q, Kath, The more shame for ye : holy men I thought ye, 
Upon my soul, two reverend cardinal virtues ; 
But cardinal sins and hollow hearts I fear ye : 
Mend 'em, for shame, my lords. Is this your comfort ? 
The cordial that ye bring a wretched lady, 
A woman lost among ye, laugh'd at, scom'd ? 



52 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act in. 

I will not wish ye half my miseries ; 

I have more charity : but say, I wam'd ye ; 

Take heed, for heaven's sake, take heed, lest at once 110 

The burthen of my sorrows fall upon ye, 

Wol, Madam, this is a mere distraction ; 
You turn the good we offer into envy. 

Q, Kath, Ye turn me into nothing : woe upon ye 
And all such false professors ! would you have me — 
If you have any justice, any pity ; 
If ye be any thing but churchmen's habits- 
Put my sick cause into his hands that hates me ? 
Alas, has banish'd me his bed already, 

His love, too long ago ! I am old, my lords, 120 

And all the fellowship I hold now with him 
Is only my obedience. What can happen 
To me above this wretchedness ? all your studies 
Make me a curse like this. 

Cam, Your fears are worse. 

Q, Kath, Have I lived thus long — let me speak myself. 
Since virtue finds no friends — a wife, a true one ? 
A woman, I dare say without vain-glory. 
Never yet branded with suspicion ? 
Have I with all my full affections 

Still met the king ? loved him next heaven ? obey'd him ? 130 
Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him ? 
Almost forgot my prayers to content him ? 
And am I thus rewarded ? 'tis not well, lords. 
Bring me a constant woman to her husband. 
One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure ; 
And to that woman, when she has done most. 
Yet will I add an honour, a great patience. 

Wol, Madam, you wander from the good we aim at. 

Q. Kath, My lord, I dare not make myself so guilty 
To give up willingly that noble title 140 

Your master wed me to : nothing but death 
Shall e'er divorce my dignities. 



SOENB I.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 53 

Wol. Pray, hear me. 

Q. Kath, Would I had never trod this English earth, 
Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it ! 
Ye have angels* faces, but heaven knows your hearts. 
What will become of me now, wretched lady I 
I am the most unhappy woman living. 
Alas, poor wenches, where are now your fortunes 1 
Shipwrecked upon a kingdom, where no pity. 
No friends, no hope ; no kindred weep for me ; 150 

Almost no grave allowed me : like the lily, 
That once was mistress of the field and flourished, 
I '11 hang my head and perish. 

Wol, If your grace 

Could but be brought to know our ends are honest. 
You *ld feel more comfort ; why should we, good lady. 
Upon what cause, wrong you ? alas, our places. 
The way of our profession is against it : 
We are to cure such sorrows, not to sow *eni. 
For goodness' sake, consider what you do ; 
How you may hurt yourself, ay, utterly 160 

Grow from the king's acquaintance, by this carriage. 
The hearts of princes kiss obedience. 
So much they love it ; but to stubborn spirits 
They swell, and grow as terrible as storms. 
I know you have a gentle, noble temper, 
A soul as even as a calm : pray, think us 
Those we profess, peace-makers, friends, and servants 

Cam. Madam, you '11 find it so. You wrong your virtues 
With these weak women's fears : a noble spirit, 
As yours was put into you, ever casts 170 

Such doubts, as false coin, from it. The king loves you ; 
Beware you lose it not : for us, if you please 
To trust us in your business, we are ready 
To use our utmost studies in your service. 

Q. Kath, Do what ye will, my lords : and, pray, forgive me. 
If I have used myself unmannerly ; 



54 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [aot m. 

You know I am a woman, lacking wit 

To make a seemly answer to such persons. 

Pray, do my service to his majesty : 

He has my heart yet ; and shall have my prayers 180 

While I shall have my life. Come, reverend fathers, 

Bestow your counsels on me : she now begs. 

That little thought, when she set footing here. 

She should have bought her dignities so dear. [Exeunt, 



ScBNE II. Ante'Chamher to the Kino's apartment. 

Enter the Duke of Norfolk, the Duke of Suffolk, the 
Earl of Surrey, and the Lord Chamberlain. 

yor. If you will now unite in your complaints, 
And force them with a constancy, the cardinal 
Cannot stand under them : if you omit 
The offer of this time, I cannot promise 
But that you shall sustain moe new disgraces, 
With these you bear already. 

Sur, I am joyful 

To meet the least occasion that may give me 
Remembrance of my father-in-law, the duke. 
To be revenged on him. 

Suf, Which of the peers 

Have uncontemn'd gone by him, or at least 10 

Strangely neglected ? when did he regard 
The stamp of nobleness in any person 
Out of himself ? 

Chanu My lords, you speak your pleasures : 

What he deserves of you and me I know ; 
What we can do to him, though now the time 
Gives way to us, I much fear. If you cannot 
Bar his access to the king, never attempt 
Any thing on him ; for he hath a witchcraft 
Over the king in 's tongue. 



SCENE 11.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 55 

Nor, O, fear him not ; 

His spell iu that is out : the king hath found 20 

Matter against him that for ever mard 
The honey of his language. No, he 's settled, 
Not to come ofif, in his displeasure. 

Sur. Sir, 

I should be glad to hear such news as this 
Once every hour. 

Nor, Believe it, this is true : 

In the divorce his contrary proceedings 
Are all unfolded ; wherein he appears 
As I would wish mine enemy. 

Swr, How came 

His practices to light ? 

Suf, Most strangely. 

Swr, O, how, how ? 

Suf, The cardinal's letters to the pope miscarried, 30 

And came to the eye o' the king : wherein was read. 
How that the cardinal did entreat his holiness 
To stay the judgement o' the divorce ; for if 
It did take place, ' I do,' quoth he, ^ perceive 
My king is tangled in affection to 
A creature of the queen's, Lady Anne BuUen.' 

Swr, Has the king this ? 

Suf, Believe it. 

Swr, Will this work ? 

Cham, The king in this perceives him, how he coasts 
And hedges his own way. But in this point 
All his tricks founder, and he brings his physic 40 

After his patient's death : the king already 
Hath married the fair lady. 

Sua', Would he had ! 

Suf, May you be happy in your wish, my lord ! 
For, I profess, you have it. 

Swr, Now, all my joy 

Trace the conjunction 1 



56 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act m. 

Suf. ' Mj amen to 't ! 

Nor. All men's ! 

Suf. There 'a order'given for her coronation : 
Many, this is yet but young, and may be left 
To some ears unrecounted. But, my lords, 
She is a gallant creature, and complete 
In mind and feature : I persuade me, from her 50 

Will fall some blessing to this land, which shall 
In it be memorized. 

Stir, But, will the king 

Digest this letter of the cardinal's ? 
The Lord forbid I 

I^or, Marry, amen I 

Suf. No, no ; 

There be moe wasps that buzz about his nose 
Will make this sting the sooner. Cardinal Campeius 
Is stol'n away to Bome ; hath ta'en no leave ; 
Has left the cause o' the king unhandled ; and 
Is posted, as the agent of our cardinal. 

To second all his plot. I do assure you 60 

The king cried Ha ! at this. 

Cham. Now, God incense him, 

And let him cry Ha ! louder ! 

Nor. But, my lord. 

When returns Cranmer ? 

Suf. He is returned in his opinions ; which 
Have satisfied the king for his divorce, 
Together with all famous colleges 
Almost in Christendom : shortly, I believe. 
His second marriage shall be published, and 
Her coronation. Katharine no more 

Shall be call'd queen, but princess dowager 70 

And widow to Prince Arthur. 

Nor. This same Cranmer's 

A worthy fellow, and hath ta'en much pain 
In the king's business. 



SOBNB II.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 57 

Suf. He has ; and we shall see him 

For it an archbishop. 

Nor, So I hear. 

8uf. Tis so. 

The cardinal 1 

Enter Wolsbt arid Cromwell. 

N&r. Observe, observe, he *8 moody. 

WoL The packet, Cromwell, 
Gave 't you the king ? 

Cronu To his own hand, in 's bedchamber. 

WoL Look'd he o' the inside of the paper ? 

Crom, . Presently 

He did unseal them : and the first he view'd, 
He did it with a serious mind ; a heed 80 

Was in his countenance. You he bade 
Attend him here this morning. 

W6L, Is he ready 

To come abroad ? 

Crom, I think, by this he is. 

Wol, Leave me awhile. \Exit Cromwell. 

[Aside] It shall be to the Duchess of Alengon, 
The French king's sister : he shall marry her. 
Anne Bullen ! No ; I 'U no Anne Bullens for him 
There 's more in 't than fair visage. Bullen ! 
No, we '11 no Bullens. Speedily I wish 
To hear from Home. The Marchioness of Pembroke ! 90 

Nor. He 's discontented. 

Suf. May be, he hears the king 

Does whet his auger to him. 

Sttr, Sharp enough. 

Lord, for thy justice 1 

WoL [Aside] The late queen's gentlewoman, a knight's 
daughter, 
To be her mistress' mistress ! the queen's queen ! 
This candle bums not clear : 'tis I must snuff it ; 



58 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [aot hi. 

Then out it goes. What though I know her virtuous 

And well 4eserving ? yet I know her for 

A spleeny Lutheran ; and not wholesome to 

Our cause, that she should lie i' the bosom of 100 

Our hard-ruled king. Again, there is sprung up 

An heretic, an arch one, Cranmer ; one 

Hath crawl'd into the favour of the king, 

And is his oracle. 

Nor, He is vex'd at something. 

Sur, I would 'twere something that would fret the string, 
The master-cord on 's heart 1 

Enter the Kino, reading of a schedule^ and Lovell. 

Suf, The king, the king ! 

King. What piles of wealth hath he accumulated 
To his own portion ! and what expense by the hour 
Seems to flow from him ! How, i' the name of thrift, 
Does he rake this together 1 Now, my lords, 110 

Saw you the cardinal ? 

Nor, My lord, we have 

Stood here observing him : some strange commotion 
Is in his brain : he bites his lip, and starts ; 
Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground, 
Then lays his finger on his temple ; straight 
Springs out into; fast gait ; then stops again. 
Strikes his breast hard, and anon he casts 
His eye against the moon : in most strange postures 
We have seen him set himself. 

King, It may well be ; 

There is a mutiny in 's mind. This morning 120 

Papers of state he sent me to peruse. 
As I required : and wot you what I found 
There, — on my conscience, put unwittingly ? 
Forsooth, an inventory, thus importing ; 
The several parcels of his plate, his treasure, 
Rich stuffs, and ornaments of household ; wldch 



SOBNB n.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 59 

I find at sach proud rate/ that it out-dpeaks 
Possession of a subject. 

Nor, It 's heaven's will : 

Some spirit put this paper in the packet, 
To bless your eye withal. 

King, If we did think 130 

His contemplation were above the earth, 
And fix'd on spiritual object, he should still 
Dwell in his musiiigs : but I am afraid 
His thinkings are below the moon, not worth 
His serious considering. 

[King takes his seat ; whispers Lovell, 
who goes to the Cardinal, 

Wol. Heaven forgive me 1 

Ever God bless your highness ! 

King, Good my lord, 

You are full of heavenly stuff, and bear the inventory 
Of your best grsLces in your mind ; the which 
You were now running o'er : you have scarce time 
To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span 140 

To keep your earthly audit ; sure, in that 
I deem you an ill husband, and am glad 
To have you therein my companion. 

Wol, Sir, 

For holy offices I have a time ; a time 
To think upon the, part of business which 
I bear i' the state ; and nature does require 
Her times of preservation, which perforce 
I, her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal, 
Must give my tendance to. 

King, You have said welj. 

Wol, And ever may your highness yoke together, 150 

As I will lend you cause, my doing well 
With my well saying ! 

King, 'Tis well said again ; 

And 'tis a kind of good deed to say well : 



60 KINO HENRY THB EIGHTH. [act m. 

And jet words are no deeds. Mj father loved yon : 

He said he did ; and with his deed did crown 

His word upon jou. Since I had my office, 

I have kept you next my heart ; have not alone 

Employ'd you where high profits might come home. 

But pared my present havings, to bestow 

My bounties upon you. 

Wol [Adde\ What should this mean ? 160 

Sur. [Agide] The Lord increase this business I 

King. Have I not made you 

The prime man of the state ? I pray you, tell me, 

If what I now pronounce you have found true : 

And, if you may confess it, say withal, 

If you are bound to us or no. What say you ? 
Wol. My sovereign, I confess your royal graces, 

Showered on me daily, have been more than could 

My studied purposes requite ; which went 

Beyond all man's endeavours : my endeavours 

Have ever come too short of my desires, 170 

Yet filed with my abUities : mine own ends 

Have been mine so that evermore they pointed 

To the good of your most sacred person and 

The profit of the state. For your great graces 

Heap'd upon me, poor undeserver, I 

Can nothing render but allegiant thanks. 

My prayers to heaven for you, my loyalty, 

Which ever has and ever shall be growing. 

Till death, that winter, kill it. 
King, Fairly answered ; 

A loyal and obedient subject is 180 

Therein illustrated : the honour of it 

Does pay the act of it ; as, i' the contrary^ 

The foulness is the punishment. I presume 

That, as my hand has open'd bounty to you, 

My heart dropp'd love, my power rain'd honour, more 

On you than any ; so your hand and heart. 



80BNB n.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 61 

Your brain, and every function of your power, 
Should, notwithstanding that your bond of duty, 
As 'twere in love's partieular, be more 
To me, your friend, than any. 

Wol, I do profess 190 

That for you highness' good I ever laboured 
More than mine own ; that I am true and will be, 
Though all the world should crack their duty to you. 
And throw it from their soul ; though perils did 
Abound, as thick as thought could make 'em, and 
Appear in forms more horrid, — yet my duty. 
As doth a rock against the chiding flood. 
Should the approach of this wild river break, 
And stand unshaken yours. 

King, Tis nobly spoken : 

Take notice, lords, he has a loyal breast, 200 

For you have seen him open 't. Read o'er this ; 

\Qiving him papers. 
And after, this : and then to breakfast with 
What appetite you have. 

[Eant King^ Jrovmtng upon Cardinal Wdtey: the NoUes 
throng after him, snUUng and whispering. 

Wol. What should this mean ? 

What sudden anger 's this ? How have I reap'd it ? 
He parted frowning from me, as if ruin 
Leap'd from his eyes : so looks the chafed lion 
Upon the daring huntsman that has gall'd him ; 
Then makes him nothing. I must read this paper ; 
Iff ear, the story of his anger. 'Tis so ; 
This paper has undone me : 'tis the account 210 

Of all that world of wealth I have drawn together 
For mine own ends ; indeed, to gain the popedom. 
And fee my friends in Rome. negligence ! 
Fit for a fool to fall by : what cross devil 
Made me put this main secret in the packet 
I sent the king ? Is there no way to cure this ? 



62 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act m. 

No new device to beat this from his brains ? 

I know 'twill stir him strongly ; yet I know 

A way, if it take right, in spite of fortune 

Will bring me oflF again. What 's this ? « To the Pope ! ' 220 

The letter, as I live, with all the business 

I writ to 's holiness. Nay then, farewell ! 

I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness ; 

And, from that full meridian of my glory, 

I haste now to my setting : I shall fall 

Like a bright exhalation in the evening. 

And no man see me more. 

Re-enter to Wolset, the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, the 
Earl of Surrey, and the Lord Chamberlain. 

Nor. Hear the king's pleasure, cardinal ; who commands 
you 
To render up the great seal presently 

Into our hands ; and to confine yourself 230 

To Asher House, my Lord of Winchester's, 
Till you hear further from his highness. 

Wol, Stay: 

Where 's your commission, lords ? Words cannot carry 
Authority so weighty. 

Suf. Who dare cross 'em. 

Bearing the king's will from his mouth expressly ? 

WoL Till I find more than will or words to do it, 
I mean your malice, know, officious lords, 
I dare and must deny it. Now I feel 
Of what coarse metal ye are moulded, envy : 
How eagerly ye follow my disgraces, 240 

As if it fed ye I and how sleek and wanton 
Ye appear in every thing may bring my ruin 1 
Follow your envious courses, men of malice ; 
You have Christian warrant for 'em, and, no doubt. 
In time will find their fit rewards. That seal. 
You ask with such a violence, the king, 



SCENE II.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 63 

Mine and jour master, with his own hand gave me ; 

Bade me enjoy it, with the place and honours, 

During my life ; and, to confirm his goodness, 

Tied it by letters-patents : now, who '11 take it ? 250 

Stir, The king, that gave it. 

Wol, It must be himself, then. 

Sur, Thou art a proud traitor, priest. 

WoL Proud lord, thou liest : 

Within these forty hours Surrey durst better 
Have burnt that tongue than said so. 

Sur, Thy ambition. 

Thou scarlet sin, robb'd this bewailing land 
Of noble Buckingham, my father-in-law : 
The heads of all thy brother cardinals. 
With thee and all thy best parts bound together. 
Weighed not a hair of his* Plague of your policy ! 
You sent me deputy for Ireland ; 260 

Far from his succour, from the king, from all 
That might- have mercy on the fault thou gavest him ; 
Whilst your great goodness, out of holy pity, 
Absolved him with an axe. 

Wol. This, and all else 

This talking lord can lay upon my credit, 
I answer is most false. The duke by law 
Found his deserts : how innocent I was 
From any private malice in his end. 
His noble jury and foul cause can witness. 
If I loved many words, lord, I should tell you 270 

Y^ou have as little honesty as honour. 
That in the way of loyalty and truth 
Toward the king, my ever royal master. 
Dare mate a sounder man than Surrey can be. 
And all that love his follies. 

Stir, By my soul, 

Your long coat, priest, protects you ; thou shouldst feel 
My sword i' the life-blood of thee else. My lords, ' 



1 



64 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act hi. 

Can ye endure to hear this arrogance ? 

And from this fellow ? If we live thns tamely. 

To be thus jaded by a piece of scarlet, 280 

Farewell nobUity ; let his grace go forward, 

And dare us with his cap like larks. 

Wol, All goodness 

Is poison to thy stomach. 

8ur, Yes, that goodness 

Of gleaning all the land's wealth into one, 
Into your own hands, cardinal, by extortion ; 
The goodness of your intercepted packets 
You writ to the pope against the king : your goodness. 
Since you provoke me, shall be most notorious. 
My Lord of Norfolk, as you are truly noble. 
As you respect the common good, the state 290 

Of our despised nobility, our issues. 
Who, if he live, will scarce be gentlemen, 
Produce the grand sum of his sins, the articles 
Collected from his life. 

Wol, How much, methinks, I could despise this man, 
But that I am bound in charity against it I 

Nor. Those articles, my lord, are in the king's hand : 
But, thus much, they are foul ones. 

Wol, So much fairer 

And spotless shall mine innocence arise, 
When the king knows my truth. 

Sttr, This cannot save you : 300 

I thank my memory, I yet remember 
Some of these articles ; and out they shall 
Now, if you can blush and cry * guilty,' cardinal. 
You '11 show a little honesty. 

Wol, Speak on, sir ; 

I dare your worst objections : if I blush, 
It is to see a nobleman want manners. 

Stir, I had rather -want those tlian my head Have at 
you I 



scaiNEii.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 65 

First, that, without the king's assent or knowledge, 

You wrought to be a legate ; by which power 

You maim'd the jurisdiction of all bishops. 310 

Nor, Then, that in all you writ to Borne, or else 
To foreign princes, ' Ego et Bex meus ' 
Was still inscribed ; in which you brought the king 
To be your servant. 

8uf, Then that, without the knowledge 

Either of king or council, when you went 
Ambassador to the emperor, you made bold 
To carry into Flanders the great seal. 

8ur. Item, you sent a large commission 
To Gregory de Cassado, to conclude, 

Without the king's will or the state's allowance, 320 

A league between his highness and Ferrara. 

Suf, That, out of mere ambition, you have caused 
Your holy hat to be stamp'd on the king's coin. 

Sur, Then that you have sent innumerable substance — 
By what means got, I leave to your own conscience — 
To furnish Bome, and to prepare the ways 
You have for dignities ; to the mere undoing 
Of all the kingdom. Many more there are ; 
Which, since they are of you, and odious, 
I will not taint my mouth with. 

Cham, O my lord, 330 

Press not a falling man too far ! 'tis virtue : 
His faults lie open to the laws ; let them. 
Not you, correct him. My heart weeps to see him 
So little of his great self. 

Sur. I forgive him. 

8uf, Lord cardinal, the king's further pleasure is, 
Because all those things you have done of late, 
By your power legatine, within this kingdom. 
Fall into the compass of a praemunire. 
That therefore such a writ be sued against you ; 
To forfeit all your goods, lands, tenements, 340 

E 



1 



66 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act in. 

Chattels, and whatsoever, and to be 

Out of the king's protection. This is my charge. 

N(yr, And so we *11 leave you to your meditations 
How to live better. For your stubborn answer 
About the giving back the great seal to us, 
The king shall know it, and, no doubt, shall thank you. 
So fare you well, my little good lord cardinal. 

\Exeunt all but WoUey, 

Wol. So farewell to the little good you bear me. 
Farewell ! a long farewell, to all my greatness ! 
This is the state of man : to-day he puts forth 350 

The tender leaves of hopes ; to-morrow blossoms, 
And bears his blushing honours thick upon him ; 
The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, 
And, when he thinks, good easy man, full surely 
His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root. 
And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured. 
Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders. 
This many summers in a sea of glory. 
But far beyond my depth : my high-blown pride 
At length broke under me and now has left me, 360 

Weary and old with service, to the mercy 
Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me. 
Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye : 
I feel my heart new open'd. O, how wretched 
Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours ! 
There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to. 
That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin. 
More pangs and fears than wars or women have : 
And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, 
Never to hope again. 

Enter Cromwell, arid stands amazed. 

Why, how now, Cromwell ! 370 

Crom. I have no power to speak, sir. 
Wol, What, amazed 



SCENE II.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 67 

At mj misfortunes ? can thy spirit wonder 

A great man should decline ? Naj, an jou weep, 

I am fall'n indeed. 

Crom, How does your grace ? 

Wol, Why, well ; 

Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell. 
I know myself now ; and I feel within me 
A peace above all earthly dignities, 
A still and quiet conscience. The king has cured me, 
I humbly thank his grace ; and from these shoulders, 
These ruin'd pillars, out of pity, taken 380 

A load would sink a navy, too much honour : 
O, 'tis a burthen, Cromwell, 'tis a burthen 
Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven ! 

Crom. I am glad your grace has made that right use of it. 

Wol, I hope I have : I am able now, methinks, 
Out of a fortitude of soul I feel. 
To endure more miseries and greater far 
Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer. 
What news abroad ? 

Crom, The heaviest and the worst 

Is your displeasure with the king. 

Wol God bless him ! 390 

Crom. The next is, that Sir Thomas More is chosen 
Lord chancellor in your place. 

Wcl. That 's somewhat sudden : 

But he 's a learned man. May he continue 
Long in his highness' favour, and do justice 
For truth's sake and his conscience ; that his bones, 
When he has run his course and sleeps in blessings, 
May have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on 'em ! 
What more ? 

Crom. That Cranmer is retum'd with welcome 
Install'd lord archbishop of Canterbury. 

Well. That 's news, indeed. 

Crom. Last, that the Lady Anne, 400 



] 



68 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act m. 

Whom the king hath in secrecy long married, 
This day was view-d in open as his queen, 
Groing to chapel ; and the voice is now 
Only about her coronation. 

Wot. There was the weight that puird me down. O 
Cromwell, 
The king has gone beyond me : all my glories 
In that one woman I have lost for ever : 
No sun shall ever usher forth mine honours, 
Or gild again the noble troops that waited 
Upon my smiles. Gro, get thee from me, Cromwell ; 410 
I am a poor fall'n man, unworthy now 
To be thy lord and master : seek the king ; 
That sun, I pray, may never set ! I have told him 
What and how true thou art : he will advance thee ; 
Some little memory of me will stir him — 
I know his noble nature — not to let 
Thy hopeful service perish too : good Cromwell, 
Neglect him not ; make use now, and provide 
For thine own future safety. 

Crom, O my lord, 

Must I, then, leave you ? must I needs forego 420 

So good, so noble and so true a master ? 
Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron. 
With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord. 
The king shall have my service ; but my prayers 
For ever and for ever shall be yours. 

Wol. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear 
In all my miseries ; but thou hast forced me. 
Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. 
Let 's dry our eyes : and thus far hear me, Cromwell ; 
And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be, 430 

And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention 
Of me more must be heard of, say, I taught thee. 
Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory. 
And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour, 



ucBNBii.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 69 

Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in ; 

A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it. 

Mark but my fall, and that that ruined me. 

Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition : 

By that sin fell the angels ; how can man, then, 

The image of his Maker, hope to win by it ? 440 

Love thyself last : cherish those hearts that hate thee ; 

Corruption wins not more than honesty. 

Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace. 

To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not : 

Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's. 

Thy God's, and truth's ; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, 

Thou fall'st a blessed martyr ! Serve the king ; 

And, — prithee, lead me in : 

There take an inventory of all I have, 

To the last penny ; 'tis the king's : my robe, 450 

And my integrity to heaven, is all 

I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell ! 

Had I but served my God with half the zeal 

I served my king, he would not in mine age 

Have left me naked to mine enemies. 

Crom* Good sir, have patience. 

Wol, So I have. Farewell 

The hopes of court ! my hopes in heaven do dwell. \Exev,nt 



ACT IV. 

Scene I. A street in Westminster. 

Enter two Gentlemen, meeting one anothei'. 

First Oent. You 're well met once again. 
Sec Oent» So are you. 

First Oent. You come to take your stand here, and behold 
The Lady Anne pass from her coronation ? 



70 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act iv. 

Sec, Gent, Tis all my business. At our last enooonter, 
The Duke of Buckingham came from his trial. 

First, Gent 'Tia very true : but that time offered sorrow ; 
This, general joy. 

Sec. Gent, Tib well : the citizens, 

I am sure, have shown at full their royal minds — 
As, let 'em have their rights, they are ever forward — 
In celebration of this day with shows, 10 

Pageants and sights of honour. 

First Gent. Never greater. 

Nor, I '11 assure you, better taken, sir. 

Sec Gent, May I be bold to ask what that contains, 
That paper in your hand ? 

First Gent, Yes ; 'tis the list 

Of those tliat claim their offices this day 
By custom of the coronation. 
The Duke of Suffolk is tlie first, and claims 
To be high-steward ; next, the Duke of Norfolk, 
He to be earl marshal : you may read the rest. 

Sec, Gent, I thank you, sir : had I not known those 
customs, 20 

I should have been beholding to your paper. 
But, I beseech you, what 's become of Katharine, 
The princess dowager ? how goes her business ? 

First Gent, That I can tell you too. The Archbishop 
Of Canterbury, accompanied with other 
Learned and reverend fathers of his order. 
Held a late court at Dunstable, six miles off 
From Ampthill where the princess lay ; to which 
She was often cited by them, but appear'd not : 
And, to be short, for not appearance and 30 

The king's late scruple, by the main assent 
Of all these learned men she was divorced. 
And the late marriage made of none effect : 
Since which she was removed to Kimbolton 
Where she remains now sick. 



I 



8CENB I.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 71 

Sec. Gent Alas, good lady ! [Trumpets. 

The trumpets sound : stand close, the queen is coming. 

[IlatUboi/8. 

THE ORDER OF THE PROCESSION 

1. A lively flourish of Trwmpets. 

2. Then^ two Judges. 

3. Lord Chancellor, with the purse and mace before him. 

4. Choristers, «in^tn^. [Music. 

5. Mayor of London, bearing the mace. Then Garter, in his 

coat of arms, and on his head a gilt copper oromi. 

6. Marquess Dorset, bearing a sceptre of gold, on his head a 

demi'CoroTud of gold. With him, the Earl of Surrey, 
bearing the rod of silver with the dove, crowned unth an 
earVs coronet. Cottars of SS. 

7. Duke of Suffolk, in his robe of estate, his coronet on his 

head, bearing a long white wand, as high-steioard. With 
him, the Duke of Norfolk, with the rod of mxirshalship, 
a coronet on his head. Collars of SS, 

8. A canopy borne by fowr of the Cinque-ports ; under it, the 

Queen in her robe; in her hair richly adorned with 
pearl, crowned. On each side her, the Bishops of 
London and Winchester. 

9. The old Duchess of Norfolk, in a coronal of gold wrought 

with flowers, bearing the Queen's train. 
10. Certain Ladies or Countesses, with plain circlets of gold 
without jUywers, 

They pass over the stage in order and state. 

Sec. Gent. A royal train, believe me. These 1 know : 
Who 's that that bears the sceptre ? 

First Gent. Marquess Dorset : 

And that the Earl of Surrey, with the rod. 

Sec Gent, A bold brave gentleman. That should be 40 
The Duke of Suffolk ? 

First Gent. Tis the same : high-steward. 



72 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act iv. 

Sec, Gent. And that my lord of Norfolk ? 

First Gent Yea 

Sec, Gent. Heaven bless thee ! 

[Looking on the Queen, 
Thou hast the sweetest face I ever look'd on. 
Sir, as I have a soul, she is an angel ; 
Our king has all the Indies in his arms, 
And more and richer, when he strains that lady : 
I cannot blame his conscience. 

First Gent, They that bear 

The cloth of honour over her, are four barons 
Of the Cinque-ports. 

Sec, Gent, Those men are happy ; and so are all are near 
her. 50 

I take it, she that carries up the train 
Is that old noble lady, Duchess of Norfolk. 

F^rst Gent, It is ; and all the rest are countesses. 

Sec, Gent, Their coronets say so. These are stars indeed ; 
And sometimes falling ones. 

Mrst Gent. No more of that. 

[Exit procession, and then a great flourish of trumpets. 

Enter a third Gentleman. 

First Genu. God save you, sir ! where have you been 
broiling ? 

Third Gent, Among the crowd i* the Abbey ; where a 
finger 
Could not be wedged in more : I am stifled 
With the mere rankness of their joy. 

Sec. Gent, You saw 

The ceremony ? 

Third Gent. That I did. 

First Gent. How was it ? 60 

Third Gent, Well worth the seeing. 

Sec. Gent. Good sir, speak it to us. 

TTdrd Gent. As well as I am able. The rich stream 



SCBNB I.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 73 

Of lords and ladies, having brought the queen 

To a prepared place in the choir, fell off 

A distance from her ; while her grace sat down 

To rest awhile, some half an hour or so, 

In a rich chair of state, opposing freely 

The beauty of her person to the people. 

Believe me, sir, she is the goodliest woman 

That ever lay by man : which when the people 70 

Had the full view of, such a noise arose 

As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest. 

As loud, and to as many tunes : hats, cloaks, — 

Doublets, I think, — flew up ; and had their faces 

Been loose, this day they had been lost Such joy 

I never saw before. Great-bellied women, 

That had not half a week to go, like rams 

In the old time of war, would shake the press, 

And make 'em reel before 'em. No man living 

Could say * This is my wife ' there ; all were woven 80 

So strangely in one piece. 

Sec, Gent But what follow'd ? 

Third Gent At length her grace rose, and with modest 
paces 
Came to the altar ; where she kneePd, and saint-like 
Cast her fair eyes to heaven and pray'd devoutly. 
Then rose again and bow'd her to the people : 
When by the Archbishop of Canterbury 
She had all the royal makings of a queen ; 
As holy oil, Edward Confessor's crown. 
The rod, and bird of peace, and all such emblems 
Laid nobly on her : which performed, the choir, 90 

With all the choicest music of the kingdom. 
Together sung * Te Deum.' So she parted. 
And with the same full state paced back again 
To York-place, where the feast is held. 

First Gent. Sir, 

You must no more call it York-place, that 's past ; 



74 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act iv. 

For, since the cardinal fell, that title 's lost : 
'Tis now the king's, and calFd Whitehall 

Third Gent. I know it ; 

But 'tis so lately alter'd, that the old name 
Is fresh about me. 

Sec. Oent. What two reverend bishops 

Were those that went on each side of the queen ? 100 

Third Gent. Stokesly and Grardiner ; the one of Winchester, 
Newly preferr'd from the king's secretary. 
The other, London. 

Sec. Gent. He of Winchester 

Is held no great good lover of the archbishop's, 
The virtuous Cranmer. 

Third Gent. All the land knows that : 

However, yet there is no great breach ; when it comes, 
Cranmer will find a friend will not shrink from him. 

Sec. Gent. Who may that be, I pray you ? 

Third Gent. Thomas Cromwell ; 

A man in much esteem with the king, and truly 
A worthy friend. The king has made him master 110 

O* the jewel house. 
And one, already, of the privy council. 

Sec. Gent. He will deserve more. 

Third Gent. Yes, without all doubt. 

Come, gentlemen, ye shall go my way, which 
Is to the court, and there ye shall be my guests : 
Something I can command. As I walk thither, 
I '11 tell ye more. 

Both. You may command us, sir. [Exetmt. 

Scene II. Kimbolton. 

Enter Katharine, Dowager^ sick ; led between Griffith, her 
gentleman usher j and Patience, her woman. 

Grif. How does your grace ? 

Kath. O Griffith, sick to death I 



SCENE n.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 75 

My legs, like loaden branches, bow to the earth, 
Willing to leave their burthen. Beach a chair : 
So ; now, methinks, I feel a little ease. 
Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou led'st me, 
That the great child of honour, Cardinal Wolsey, 
Was dead? 

Qrif, Yes, madam ; but I think your grace, 

Out of the pain you suffered, gave no ear to 't. 

Kaik, Prithee, good Griffith, tell me how he died : 
If well, he stepp'd before me, happily 10 

For my example. 

Qrif, Well, the voice goes, madam : 

For after the stout Earl Northumberland 
Arrested him at York, and brought him forward. 
As a man sorely tainted, to his answer. 
He fell sick suddenly, and grew so ill 
He could not sit his mule. 

Kath, Alas, poor man ! 

Qrif, At last, with easy roads, he came to Leicester, 
Lodged in the abbey ; where the reverend abbot. 
With all his covent, honourably received him ; 
To whom he gave these words, * O, father abbot, 20 

An old man, broken with the storms of state, 
Is come to lay his weary bones among ye ; 
Give him a little earth for charity ! ' 
So went to bed ; where eagerly his sickness 
Pursued him still : and, three nights after this, 
About the hour of eight, which he himself 
Foretold should be his last, full of repentance, 
Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows. 
He gave his honours to the world again. 
His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace. 30 

Kath, So may he rest ; his faults lie gently on him ! 
Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak him, 
And yet with charity. He was a man 
Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking 



76 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act iv. 

Himself with princes ; one that, by suggestion, 

Tith'd all the kingdom : simony was fair-play ; 

His own opinion was his law : i' the presence 

He would say untruths ; and be ever double 

Both in his words and meaning : he was never, 

But where he meant to ruin, pitiful : 40 

His promises were, as he then was, mighty ;* 

But his performance, as he is now, nothing : 

Of his own body he was ill, and gave 

The clergy ill example. - 

Qrif, Noble madam, 

Men's evil manners live in brass ; their virtues 
We write in water. May it please your highness 
To hear me speak his good now ? 

KcUh, Yes, good Griffith ; 

I were malicious else. 

Qrif. This cardinal. 

Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly 
Was fashioned to much honour from his cradle. 50 

He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one ; 
Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and persuading : 
Lofty and sour to them that loved him not ; 
But to those men that sought him sweet as summer. 
And though he were unsatisfied in getting. 
Which was a sin, yet in bestowing, madam. 
He was most princely : ever witness for him 
Those twins of learning that he raised in you, 
Ipswich and Oxford ! one of which fell with him, 
Unwilling to outlive the good that did it ; 60 

The other, though unfinished, yet so famous. 
So excellent in art, and still so rising. 
That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue. 
His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him ; 
For then, and not till then, he felt himself. 
And found the blessedness of being little : 
And, to add greater honours to his age 



SCENE iL] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 77 

Than man could give him, he died fearing God. 

Kath, After my death I wish no other herald, 
No other speaker of my living actions, 70 

To keep mine honour from corruption, 
But such an honest chronicler as Griffith. 
Whom I most hated living, thou hast made me, 
With thy religious truth and modesty. 
Now in his ashes honour : peace be with him 1 
Patience, be near me still ; and set me lower : 
I have not long to trouble thee. Good Griffith, 
Cause the musicians play me that sad note 
I named my knell, whilst I sit meditating 
On that celestial harmony I go to. [Sad and solemn music 

Grif. She is asleep : good wench, let 's sit down quiet, 81 
For fear we wake her ; softly, gentle Patience. 

The vision. Enter, solemnly tripping one after another, six 
personages, dad in white robes, wearing on their heads gar- 
lands of hays, and golden vizards on their faces; branches of 
bays or palm in their hands. They first congee unto her, 
then dance; and, at certain changes, the first ttoo hold a 
spare garland over her head; at which the other fowr make 
reverent curtsies ; then the two that held the garland deliver 
the same to the other next two, who observe the same order in 
their changes, and holding the garland over her head: which 
done, they deliver the same garland to the last two, who like- 
wise observe the same order : at which, 09 it were by inspira^ 
tion, she makes in her sleep signs ofrefoicing, and holdeth up 
her hands to heaven : and so in their dancing vanish, carrying 
the garland mth them. The music continues. 

Kath. Spirits of peace, where are ye ? are ye all gone. 
And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye ? 

Qrif Madam, we are here. 

Kath, It is not you I call for : 

Saw ye none enter since I slept ? 

Orif None, madam. 



78 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act iv. 

K<uL No ? Saw you not, eveu now, a blessed troop 
Invite me to a banquet ; whose bright faces 
Cast thousand beams upon me, like the sun ? 
They promised me eternal happiness ; 90 

And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel 
I am not worthy yet to wear : I shall, assuredly. 

Qrif. I am most joyful, madam, such good dreams 
Possess your fancy. 

Kath, Bid the music leave, 

They are harsh and heavy to me. [Mime ceases. 

Pat Do you noibe 

How much her grace is alter'd on the sudden ? 
How long her face is drawn ? how pale she looks, 
And of an earthy cold ? Mark her eyes ! 

Grif. She is going, wench : pray, pray. 

Pat. Heaven comfort her I 

Enter a Messenger. 

Mess. An 't like your grace, — 

Kath. You are a saucy fellow : 100 

Deserve we no more reverence ? 

Grif, You are to blame, 

Knowing she will not lose her wonted greatness. 
To use so rude behaviour ; go to, kneel. 

Mess. I humbly do entreat your highness' pardon ; 
My haste made me unmannerly. There is staying 
A gentleman, sent from the king, to see you. 

Kath. Admit him entrance, Griffith : but this fellow 
Let me ne'er see again. [Exeunt Griffith and Messenger. 

li&'enter Griffith, loith Capucius. . . 

If my sight fail not, 
You should be lord ambassador from the emperor, 
My royal nephew, and your name Capucius. 110 

Cap. Madam, the same ; your servant. 

Kath. O, my lord. 



SCENE II.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 79 

The times and titles now are altered strangely 
With me since first you knew me. But, I pray you, 
What is your pleasure with me ? 

Cap. Noble lady, 

First, mine own service to your grace ; the next. 
The king's request that I would visit you ; 
Who grieves much for your weakness, and by me 
Sends you his princely commendations. 
And heartily entreats you take good comfort. 

Kaih. O my good lord, that comfort comes too late ; 120 
'Tis like a pardon after execution : 
That gentle physic, given in time, had cured me ; 
But now I am past all comforts here, but prayers. 
How does his highness ? 

Cap. Madam, in good health. 

Kath. So may he ever do ! and ever flourish, 
When I shall dwell with worms,' and my poor name 
Banish'd the kingdom ! Patience, is that letter, 
I caused you write, yet sent away ? 

Pa;t. No, madam. 

[Giving it to Katharine. 

Kaih. Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliver 
This to my lord the king. 

Cap, Most willing, madam. 130 

Kath, In which I have commended to his goodness 
The model of our chaste loves, his young daughter : 
The dews of heaven fall thick in blessings on her ! 
Beseeching him to give her virtuous breeding, — 
She is young, and of a noble 'modest nature, 
I hope she will deserve well, — and a little 
To love her for her mother's sake, that loved him. 
Heaven knows how dearly. My next poor petition 
Is, that his noble grace would have some pity 
Upon my wretchecT women, that so long 1 40 

Have followed both my fortunes faithfully : 
Of which there is not one, I dare avow, 



80 KINO HENRY THE EIGHTH, [act iv. so. ii.] 

And now I should not lie, but will deserve, 

For virtue and true beauty of the soul, 

For honesty and decent carriage, 

A right good hiisband, let him be a noble : 

And, sure, those men are happy that shall have 'em. 

The last is, for my men ; they are the poorest. 

But poverty could never draw 'em from me ; 

That they may have their wages duly paid 'em, 150 

And something over to remember me by : 

If heaven had pleased to have given me longer life 

And able means, we had not parted thus. 

These are the whole contents : and, good my lord. 

By that you love the dearest in this world. 

As you wish Christian peace to souls departed, 

Stand these poor people's friend, and urge the king 

To do me this last right 

Cap, By heaven, I will. 

Or let me lose the fashion of a man ! 

Kath, I thank you, honest lord. Remember me 160 

In all humility unto his highness : 
Say his long trouble now is passing 
Out of this world ; tell him, in death I bless'd him 
For so I will. Mine eyes grow dim. Farewell, 
My lord. Griffith, farewell. Nay, Patience, 
You must not leave me yet : I must to bed ; 
Call in more women. When I am dead, good wench, 
Let me be used with honour : strew me over 
With maiden flowers, that all the world may know 
I was a chaste wife to my grave : embalm me, 170 

Then lay me forth : although unqueen'd, yet like 
A queen, and daughter to a king, inter me. 
I can no more. [Exeunt^ leading Katharine, 



[ACT V. SO. I.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 81 

ACT V. 

SoENB I. LoTtdon, A gallery in the palcuie. 

Enter Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, a Page mth a torch 
before him, met by Sir Thomas Lovell. 

Oar, It *8 one o'clock, boy, is 't not ? 

Boy, It hath struck. 

Oar. These shoald be hours for necessities, 
Not for delights ; times to repair our nature 
With comforting repose, and not for us 
To waste these times. Good hour of night. Sir Thomas ! 
Whither so late ? 

Lov. Came you from the king, my lord ? 

Oar, I did. Sir Thomas ; and left him at primero 
With the Duke of Suffolk. 

Lov, I must to him too, 

Before he go to bed. I *11 take my leave. 

Oar. Not yet. Sir Thomas Lovell. What 's the matter ? 10 
It seems you are in haste : an if there be 
No great offence belongs to *t, give your friend 
Some touch of your late business : affairs, that walk. 
As they say spirits do, at midnight, have 
In them a wilder nature than the business 
That seeks dispatch by day. 

Lov. My lord, I love you ; 

And durst commend a secret to your ear 
Much weightier than this work. The queen 's in labour. 
They say, in great extremity ; and fear'd 
She '11 with the labour end. 

Oar. The fruit she goes with 20 

I pray for heartily, that it may find 
Good time, and live : but for the stock, Sir Thomas, 
I wish it grubb'd up now. 

Lov. Methinks I could 

F 



82 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act v. 

Cry the amen ; and yet my conscience says 
She 's a good creature, and, sweet lady, does 
Deserve our better wishes. 

Qar. But, sir, sir, 

Hear me. Sir Thomas : you 're a gentleman 
Of mine own way ; I know you wise, religious ; 
And, let me tell you, it will ne'er be well, 
'Twill not. Sir Thomas Lovell, take 't of me, 30 

Till Oranmer, Cromwell, her two hands, and she. 
Sleep in their graves. 

X<w. Now, sir, you speak of two 

The most remarked i' the kingdom. As for Cromwell, 
Beside that of the jewel house, is made master 
0* the rolls, and the king's secretary ; further, sir. 
Stands in the gap and trade of moe preferments. 
With which the time will load him. The archbishop 
Is the king's hand and tongue ; and who dare speak 
One syllable against him ? 

Gar. Yes, yes. Sir Thomas, 

There are that dare ; and I myself have ventured 40 

To speak my mind of him : and indeed this day, 
Sir, I may tell it you, I think I have 
Incensed the lords o' the council, that he is. 
For so I know he is, they know he is, 
A most arch heretic, a pestilence 
That does infect the land : with which they moved 
Have broken with the king ; who hath so far 
Given ear to our complaint, of his great grace 
And princely care foreseeing those fell mischiefs 
Our reasons laid before him, hath commanded 60 

To-morrow morning to the council-board 
He be convented. He 's a rank weed. Sir Thomas, 
And we must root him out. From your affairs 
I hinder you too long : good night. Sir Thomas. 

Lov. Many good nights, my lord : I rest your servant. 

\ExemU Gardiner and Page. 



80BNB I.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 83 

Enter the King and Suffolk. 

King, Charles, I will play no more to-night ; 
My mind 's not on *t ; you are too hard for me. 

Sufi Sir, I did never win of you before. 

King, But little, Charles ; 
Nor shall not, when my fancy 's on my play. 60 

Now, Lovell, from the queen what is the news ? 

Lov. I could not personally deliver to her 
What you commanded me, but by her woman 
I sent your message ; who retum'd her thanks 
In the greatest humbleness, and desired your highness 
Most heartily to pray for her. 

King, What say^st thou, ha ? 

To pray for her ? what^ is she crying out ? 

Lov, So said her woman ; and that her sufferance made 
Almost each pang a death. 

King, Alas, good lady ! 

Suf, God safely quit her of her burthen, and 70 

With gentle travail, to the gladding of 
Your highness with an heir ! 

Kin^, 'Tis midnight, Cliarles ; 

Prithee, to bed ; and in thy prayers remember 
The estate of my poor queen. Leave me alone ; 
For I must think of that which company 
Would not be friendly to. 

Suf, I wish your highness 

A quiet night ; and my good mistress will 
Remember in my prayers. 

King. Charles, good night. [Exit Suffolk, 

Enter Sir Anthony Denny. 

Well, sir, what follows ? 

Den. Sir, I have brought my lord the archbishop, 80 

As you commanded me. 

Ki'ng. Ha ! Canterbury ? 



84 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH [act v. 

Den. Ay, my good lord. 

King, *Ti8 true : where is he, Denny ? 

Den. He attends your highness' pleasure. 
KiTig, Bring him to us. 

[Exit Denny. 
Lov. [Aside] This is about that which the bishop spake : 
I am happily come hither. 

Re-enter Denny, with Cranmbr. 

King. Avoid the gallery. [Lovell seems to stay."] Ha I I 
have said. Be gone. 
What 1 [Exeunt Lovell and Denny, 

Cran. [Astde] I am fearful : wherefore frowns he thus? 
Tis his aspect of terror. All 's not well. 

King. How now, my lord ! you do desire to know 
Wherefore I sent for you. 

Cran, [Kneeling] It is my duty 90 

To attend your highness' pleasure. 

King. Pray you, arise, 

My good and gracious Lord of Canterbury. 
Come, you and I must walk a turn together ; 
I have news to tell you : come, come, give me your hand. 
Ah, my good lord, I grieve at what I speak. 
And am right sorry to repeat what follows : 
I have, and most unwillingly, of late 
Heard many grievous, I do say, my lord. 
Grievous complaints of you ; which, being considered. 
Have moved us and our council, that you shall 100 

This morning come before us ; where, I know. 
You cannot with such freedom purge yourself. 
But that, till further trial in those charges 
Which will require your answer, you must take 
Your patience to you, and be well contented 
To make your house our Tower : you a brother of ua, 
It fits we thus proceed, or elsA no witness 



SCENE I.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 86 

Would come against you. 

Vrmh, [Kneeling] I humbly thank your highness ; 

And am right glad to catch this good occasion 

Most throughly to be winnow'd, where my chaff 110 

And com shall fly asunder : for, I know, 

There 's none stands under more calumnious tongues 

Thau I myself, poor man. 

King, Stand up, good Canterbury : 

Thy truth and thy integrity is rooted 
In us, thy friend : give me thy hand, stand up : 
Prithee, let *s walk. Now, by my holidame, 
What manner of man are you ? My lord, I look'd 
You would have given me your petition, that 
I should have ta'en some pains to bring together 
Yourself and your accusers ; and to have heard you, 120 

Without indurance, further. 

Orcm, Most dread liege, 

The good I stand on is my truth and honesty : 
If they shall fail, I, with mine enemies. 
Will triumph o'er my person ; which I weigh not, 
Being of those virtues vacant. I fear nothing 
What can be said against me. 

King, Know you not 

How your state stands i' the world, with the whole world ? 
Your enemies are many, and not small ; their practices 
Must bear the same proportion ; and not ever 
The justice and the truth o' the question carries 130 

The due o' the verdict with it : at what ease 
Might corrupt minds procure knaves as corrupt 
To swear againt you ? such things have been done. 
You are potently opposed ; and with a malice 
Of as great size. Ween you of better luck, 
I mean, in perjured witness, than your master. 
Whose minister you are, whiles here he lived 
Upon this naughty earth 1 Go to, go to ; 
You take a precipice for no leap of danger, 



86 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. Ucrr v. 

And woo your own destruction. 

Cran, God and your majesty 140 

Protect mine innocence, or I fall into 
The trap is laid for me ! 

King, Be of good cheer ; 

They shall no more prevail than we give way to. 
Keep comfort to you ; and this morning see 
You do appear before them : if they shall chance, 
In charging you with matters, to commit you. 
The best persuasions to the contrary 
Fail not to use, and with what vehemency 
The occasion shall instruct you : if entreaties 
Will render you no remedy, this ring 160 

Deliver them, and your appeal to us 
There make before them. Look, the good man weeps ! 
He 's honest, on mine honour. God's blest mother 1 
I swear he is true-hearted ; and a soul 
None better in my kingdom. Get you gone. 
And do as I have bid you. [Exit Cranmer.] He has 

strangled 
His language in his tears. 

Enter Old Lady, Lovell following, 

Gent. [ Within] Come back : what mean you 1 

Old L. I '11 not come back ; the tidings that I bring 
Will make my boldness manners. Now, good angels 
riy o'er thy royal head, and shade thy person 160 

Under their blessed wings ! 

King. Now, by thy looks 

I guess thy message. Is the queen delivered ? 
Say, ay ; and of a boy. 

Old L. Ay, ay, my liege ; 

And of a lovely boy : the God of heaven 
Both now and ever bless her ! 'tis a girl, 
Promises boys hereafter. Sir, your queen 



SCENE I.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 87 

Desires your visitation, and to be 
Acquainted with this stranger : 'tis as like you 
As cherry is to cherry. 

King, Lovell ! 

Z<w. Sir ? 

Kvn^, Give her an hundred marks. I '11 to the queen. 170 

\Exit, 

Old L. An hundred marks ! By this light, I '11 ha' more. 
An ordinary groom is for such payment. 
I will have more, or scold it out of him. 
Said I for this, the girl was like to him ? 
I will have more, or else unsay 't ; and now, 
While it is hot, I '11 put it to the issue. [Exeunt, 



Scene II. Before the co^i^icil-chamher. 

PursuivantSy Pages^ etc.j attending. 

Enter Cranmkr, Archbishop of Canterbury. 

Cran, I hope I am not too late ; and yet the gentleman, 
That was sent to me from the council, pray'd me 
To make great haste. All fast 1 what means this ? Ho I 
Who waits there ? Sure, you know me ? 

Enter Keeper. 

Keep, Yes, my lord ; 

But yet I cannot help you. 
Cran, Why? 

Enter Doctor Butts. 

Keep. Your grace must wait till you be call'd for. 
Cran, So. 

Butts. [Aside] This is a piece of malice. I am glad 
I came this way so happily : the king 



88 KING HENRY THE EIGHl'H. [act v. 

Shall understand it presently. [Ejdt, 

Cran. [Aside] Tis Butts, 10 

The king's physician : as he pass'd along, 
How earnestly he cast his eyes upon me ! 
Pray heaven, he sound not my disgrace ! For certain. 
This is of purpose laid by some that hate me — 
God turn their hearts I I never sought their malice — 
To quench mine honour : they would shame to niake me 
Wait else at door, a fellow-counsellor, 
'Mong boys, grooms, and lackeys. But their pleasures 
Must be fulfilled, and I attend with patience. 

Enter the King and Butts at a window above. 

Butts. I '11 show your grace the strangest sight — 

Ktn^. What 's that, Butts ? 20 

BtUts. I think your highness saw this many a day. 

King. Body o' me, where is it ? 

Butts. There, my lord : 

The high promotion of his grace of Canterbury ; 

Who holds his state at door, 'mongst pursuivants, 

Pages, and footboys. 
King. Ha ! 'tis he, indeed : 

Is this the honour they do one another ? 

'Tis well there 's one above *em yet. I had thought 

They had parted so much honesty among 'em. 

At least, good manners, as not thus to suffer 

A man of his place, and so near our favour, 30 

To dance attendance on their lordships' pleasures. 

And at the door too, like a post with packets. 

By holy Mary, Butts, there 's knavery : 

Let 'em alone, and draw the curtain close : 

We shall hear more anon. [Exeunt. 



SCENE III.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 89 



Scene III. The CouncU-Chamber. 

Enter Lord Chancellor ; places himself at the upper end of 
the table on the left hand; a seat being left void above him^ 
ojs for Canterbury's seat, Duke of Suffolk, Duke of 
Norfolk, Surrey, Lord Chamberlain, Gardiner, seat 
themselves in order on each side. Cromwell at lower endy 
as secretary. Keeper at the door. 

Chan, Speak to the business, master secretaiy : 
Why are we met in council ? 

Crom. Please your honours, 

The chief cause concerns his grace of Canterbury. 

Gar, Has he had knowledge of it ? 

Crom, Yes. 

Nor. Who waits there ? 

Keep, Without, my noble lords ? 

Oar, Yes. 

Keep. My lord archbishop ; 

And has done half an hour, to know your pleasures. 

Chan. Let him come in. 

Keep, Your grace may enter now. 

[Cranmer enters and approaches the council-table, 

Chan, My good lord archbishop, I 'm very sorry 
To sit here at this present, and behold 
That chair stand empty : but we all are men, 10 

In our own natures frail, and capable 
Of our flesh ; few are angels : out of which frailty 
And want of wisdom, you, that best should teach us, 
Have misdemean'd yourself, and not a little. 
Toward the king first, then his laws, in filling 
The whole realm, by your teaching and your chaplains, 
For so we are informed, with new opinions. 
Divers and dangerous ; which are heresies, 
And, not reformed, may prove pernicious. 

Gar, Which reformation must be sudden too, 20 



90 KIK6 HENRT THE EIGHTH. [act v. 

M/ noble lords ; for those that tame wild horses 

Pace 'em not in their hands to make 'em gentle, 

Bat stop their months with stubborn bits^ and spur 'em, 

Till thej obey the manage. If we suffer. 

Out of our easiness and childish pity 

To one man's honour, this contagious sickness, 

Farewell all phjsic : and what follows then ? 

Commotions, uproars, with a general taint 

Of the whole state : as, of late days, our neighbours, 

The upper Grermany, can dearly witness, 30 

Tet freshly pitied in our memories^ 

Cran. My good lords, hitherto, in all the progress 
Both of my life and office, I have laboured, 
And with no little study, that my teaching 
And the strong course of my authority 
Might go one way, and safely ; and the end 
Was ever, to do well : nor is there living, 
i speak it with a single heart, my lords, 
A man that more detests, more stirs against^ 
Both in his private conscience and his place, 40 

Defacers of a public peace, than I do. 
Pray heaven, the king may never find a heart 
With less allegiance in it 1 Men that make 
Envy and crooked malice nourishment 
Dare bite the best. I do beseech your lordships. 
That, in this case of justice, my accusers. 
Be what they will, may stand forth face to face. 
And freely urge against me. 

Suf, Nay, my lord. 

That cannot be : you are a counsellor. 
And, by that virtue, no man dare accuse you. 50 

Oa/r, My lord, because we have business of more moment. 
We will be short with you. 'Tis his highness' pleasure, 
And our consent, for better trial of you. 
From hence you be committed to the Tower ; 
Where, being but a private man again. 



SCENE III.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 91 

You shall know many dare accuse you boldly, 
More than, I fear, you are provided for. 

Cran, Ah, my good Lord of Winchester, I thank you ; 
You are always my good friend ; if you will pass, 
I shall both find your lordship judge and juror, 60 

You are so merciful : I see your end ; 
'Tis my undoing : love and meekness, lord. 
Become a churchman better than ambition : 
Win straying souls with modesty again, 
Cast none away. That I shall clear myself, 
Lay all the weight ye can upon my patience, 
I make as little doubt, as you do conscience 
In doing daily wrongs. I could say more, 
But reverence to your calling makes me modest. 

Oar. My lord, my lord, you are a sectary, 70 

That 's the plain truth : your painted gloss discovers, 
To men that understand you, words and weakness. 

Crom. My Lord of Winchester, you are a little, 
By your good favour, too sharp ; men so noble, 
However faulty, yet should find respect 
For what they have been : 'tis a cruelty 
To load a falling man. 

Gar, Good master secretary, 

I cry your honour mercy ; you may, worst 
Of all this table, say so. 

Crom, Why, my lord ? 

Gar. Do not I know you for a favourer 80 

Of this new sect ? ye are not sound. 

Crom. Not sound ? 

Gar. Not sound, I say. 

Crom. Would you were half so honest ! 

Men's prayers then would seek you, not their fears. 

Gar. I shall remember this bold language. 

Crom. Do. 

Eemember your bold life too. 

Chan. This is too much ; 



92 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act v. 

Forbear, for shame, my lords. 

Qo/r, I have done. 

Crcm, And I. 

Chan. Then thus for you, my lord : it stands agreed, 
I take it, by all voices, that forthwith 
You be convey'd to the Tower a prisoner ; 
There to remain till the king's further pleasure 90 

Be known unto us : are you all agreed, lords ? 

AU, We are. 

Cran. Is there no other way of mercy. 

But I must needs to the Tower, my lords? 

Qar, What other 

Would you expect ? you are strangely troublesome. 
Let some o' the guard be ready there. 

Enter Guard. 

Cran, For me ? 

Must I go like a traitor thither ? 

QojF, Receive him, 

And see him safe i' the Tower. 

Cran, Stay, good my lords, 

I have a little yet to say. Look there, my lords ; 
By virtue of that ring, I take my cause 
Out of the gripes of cruel men, and give it 100 

To a most noble judge, the king my master. 

Cham, This is the king's ring. 

Sur, 'Tis no counterfeit. 

Suf, 'Tis the right ring, by heaven : I -told ye all, 
When we first put this dangerous stone a-rolling, 
'Twould fall upon ourselves. 

Nor. Do you think, my lords 

The king will suffer but the little finger 
Of this man to be vex'd 1 

Chan. 'Tis now too certain : 

How much more is his life in value with him ! 
Would I were fairly out on 't I 



SCENE III.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 93 

Crom, My mind gave me, 

In seeking tales and informations 110 

Against this man, whose honesty the devil 
And his disciples only envy at, 
Ye blew the fire that bums ye : now have at ye ! 

Enter "KimOy frovming on them; takes Ms seat. 

Qa/r, Dread sovereign, how much are we bound to heaven 
In daily thanks, that gave us such a prince ; 
Not only good and wbe, but most religious : 
One that, in all obedience, makes the church 
The chief aim of his honour ; and, to strengthen 
That holy duty, out of dear respect. 

His royal self in judgement comes to hear 120 

The c&use betwixt her and this great offender. 

KxTig, You were ever good at sudden commendations, 
Bishop of Winchester. But know, I come not 
To hear such flattery now, and in my presence 
They are too thin and bare to hide offences. 
To me, you cannot reach, you play the spaniel, 
And think with wagging of your tongue to win me ; 
But, whatso'er thou takest me for, I 'm sure 
Thou hast a cruel nature and a bloody. 
\To Cranmer] Good man, sit down. Now let me see the 
proudest 130 

He, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee : 
By all that 's holy, he had better starve 
Than but once think this place becomes thee not. 

Sur, May it please your grace, — 

King, No, sir, it does not please me. 

I had thought I had had men of some understanding 
And wisdom of my council ; but I find none. 
Was it discretion, lords, to let this man, 
This good man, — few of you deserve that title, — 
This honest man, wait like a lousy footboy 
At chamber-door ? and one as great as you are ? 140 



1 



94 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act v. 

Why, what a shame was this ! Did my commission 

Bid ye so far forget yourselves ? I gave ye 

Power as he was a counsellor to try him, 

Not as a groom : there 's some of ye, I see, 

More out of malice than integrity. 

Would try him to the utmost, had ye mean ; 

Which ye shall never have while I live. 

Chan, Thus far. 

My most dread sovereign, may it like your giuce 
To let my tongue excuse all. What was purposed 
Concerning his imprisonment, was rather, 150 

If there be faith in men, meant for his trial, 
And fair purgation to the world, than malice, 
I 'm sure, in me. 

King, Well, well, my lords, respect him ; 
Take him, and use him well, he 's worthy of it. 
I will say thus much for him, if a prince 
May be beholding to a subject, I 
Am, for his love and service, so to him. 
Make me no more ado, but all embrace him : 
Be friends, for shame my lords ! My Lord of Canterbury, 
I have a suit which you must not deny me ; 161 

That is, a fair young maid that yet wants baptism. 
You must be godfather, and answer for her. 

Cran, The greatest monarch now alive may glory 
In such an honour : how may I deserve it, 
That am a poor and humble subject to you ? 

King, Come, come, my lord, you 'Id spare your spoons : 
you shall have two noble partners with you ; the old 
Duchess of Norfolk, and Lady Marquess Dorset : will these 
please you ? 170 

Once more, my Lord of Winchester, I charge 3'ou, 
Embrace and love this man. 

Oar, With a true heart 

And brother-love I do it. 

Cra/a. And let heaven 



SCENB III.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 95 

Witness, how dear I hold this confirmation. 

King, Good man, those joyful tears show thy true heart : 
The common voice, I see, is verified 
Of thee, which says thus, * Do my Lord of Canterbury 
A shrewd turn, and he is your friend for ever.' 
Come, lords, we trifle time away ; I long 
To have this young one made a Christian. 180 

As I have made ye one, lords, one remain ; 
So I grow stronger, you more honour gain. [Exeunt. 



Scene IV. The palace yard. 
Noise and tumult within. Enter Porter and his Man. 

Port. You '11 leave your noise anon, ye rascals : do you take 
the court for Paris-garden ? ye rude slaves, leave your gaping. 

[ Within] Good master porter, I belong to the larder. 

Port, Belong to the gallows, and be hanged, ye rogue ! is 
this a place to roar in ? Fetch me a dozen crab-tree staves, 
and strong ones : these are but switches to 'em. I '11 scratch 
your heads : you must be seeing christenings ? do you look 
for ale and cakes here, you rude rascals ? 

Man. Pray, sir, be patient : 'tis as much impossible — 
Unless we sweep 'em from the door with cannons — 10 

To scatter 'em, as 'tis to make 'em sleep 
On May -day morning ; which will never be : 
We may as well push against Powle's, as stir 'em. 

Port. How got they in, and be hang'd ? 

Man. Alas, I know not ; how gets the tide in ? 
As much as one sound cudgel of four foot — 
You see the poor remainder — could distribute, 
I made no spare, sir. 

Port. You did nothing, sir. 

Man. I am not Samson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colbrand, 
To mow 'em down before me : but if I spared any 20 

That had a head to hit, either young or old, 



96 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act v. 

Let me ne'er hope to see a chine again ; 

And that I would not for a cow, God save her I| 

[ Within] Do 70U hear, master porter ? 

Port. 1 shall be with jou presently, good master pappy. 
Keep the door close, sirrah. 

Mam What would you have me do ? 

Port What should you do, but knock 'em down by the 
dozens 1 Is this Moorfields to muster in ? 29 

Man. There is a fellow somewhat near the door, he should 
be a brazier by his face, for, o* my conscience, twenty of the 
dog-days now reign in 's nose ; all that stand about him are 
under the line, they need no other penance * that fire-drake 
did I hit three times on the head, and three times was his 
nose discharged against me ; he stands there, like a mortar- 
piece, to blow us. There was a haberdasher's wife of small 
wit near him, that railed upon me till her pinked porringer 
fell off her head, for kindling such a combustion in the 
state. I missed the meteor once, and hit that woman ; who 
cried out ' Clubs ! ' when I might see from far some forty 
truncheoners draw to her succour, which were the hope o' the 
Strand, where she was quartered. They fell on ; I made 
good my place : at length they came to the broom -staff to 
me ; I defied 'em still : when suddenly a file of boys behind 
'em, loose shot, delivered such a shower of pebbles, that I 
was fain to draw mine honour in, and let 'em win the work : 
the devil was amongst 'em, I think, surely. 47 

Port, These are the youths that thunder at a playhouse, 
and fight for bitten apples ; that no audience, but the tribu- 
lation of Tower-hill, or the limbs of Idmehouse, their dear 
brothers, are able to endure. I have some of 'em in Limbo 
Fatrum, and there they are like to dance these three days ; 
besides the running banquet of two beadles that is to come. 

Enter Lord Chamberlain. 

Cham, Mercy o' me, what a multitude are here ! 
They grow still too ; from all parts they are coming, 



SOBNB IV.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 97 

As if we kept a fair here ! Where are these porters, 
These lazy knaves ? Ye have made a fine hand, fellows : 
There 's a trim rabble let in : are all these 
Your faithful friends o' the suburbs ? We sliall have 
Great store of room, no doubt, left for the ladies, 60 

When they pass back from the christening. 

Fort, An 't please your honour, 

We are but men ; and what so many may do, 
Not being torn a-pieces, we have done : 
An army cannot rule 'em. 

Cham, As I live. 

If the king blame me for 't, 1 11 lay ye all 
By the heels, and suddenly ; and on your heads 
Clap round fines for neglect : ye are lazy knaves ; 
And here ye lie baiting of bombards, when 
Ye should do service. Hark ! the trumpets sound ; 
They *re come already from the christening : 70 

Go, break among the press, and find a way out 
To let the troop pass fairly ; or I *11 find 
A Marshalsea shall hold ye play these two months. 

Fort Make way there for the princess. 

Man, You great fellow. 

Stand close up, or I '11 make your head ache. 

Fort, You i' the camlet, get up o' the rail ; 
1 11 peck you o'er the pales else. [Exeunt, 



Scene V. The palace. 

Enter trumpets, sounding ; then two Aldermen, Lord Mator, 

Garter, Cranmer, Duke of Norfolk vjith hU marshaVe 

staffs Duke of Suffolk, two Noblemen hearing great stand* 

ing-howls for the christening-gifts; then four Noblemen 

hearing a canopy, under which the Duchess of Norfolk, 

godmother, hearing the child richly habited in a mantle^ etc, 

train home hy a Lady ; then follows the Marchioness 

o 



98 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act v. 

Dorset, the other godmother^ and Ladies, The troop pous 
once about the stage, and Garter speaJcs, 

Oart, Heaveu, from thy endless goodness, send prosperous 
Ufe, long, and ever happy, to the high and mighty princess of 
England, Elizabeth ! 

Flourish. Enter King and Guard. 

Cran. [Kneeling'] And to your royal grace, and the good 
queen, 
My noble partners, and myself, thus pray : 
All comfort, joy, in this most gracious lady. 
Heaven ever laid up to make parents happy, 
May hourly fall upon ye I 

King. Thank you, good lord archbishop : 

What is her name ? 

€ran. Elizabeth. 

King. Stand up, lord. 

\The King hisses the child. 
With this kiss take my blessing : Grod protect thee I 10 

Into whose hand I give thy life. 

Cran. Amen. 

King. My noble gossips, ye have been too prodigal : 
I thank ye heartily ; so shall this lady. 
When she has so much English. 

Cran. Let me speak, sir, 

For heaven now bids me ; and the words I utter 
Let none think flattery, for they *11 find 'em truth. 
This royal infant — heaven still move about her ! — 
Though in her cradle, yet now promises 
Upon this land a thousand thousand blessings. 
Which time shall bring to ripeness : she shall be — 20 

But few now living can behold that goodness-^ 
A pattern to all princes living with her, 
And all that shall succeed : Saba was never 
More covetous of wisdom and fair virtue 



SCJBNE ir.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 99 

Than this pure soul should be : all princely graces, 

That mould up such a mighty piece as this is, 

With all the virtues that attend the good, 

Shall still be doubled on her : truth shall nurse her, 

Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her : 

She shall be loved and fear'd : her own shall bless her ; 30 

Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn. 

And hang their heads with sorrow : good grows with her : 

In her days every man shall eat in safety. 

Under his own vine, what he plants ; and sing 

The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours : 

God shall be truly known ; and those about her 

From her shall read the perfect ways of honour. 

And by those claim their greatness, not by blood. 

Nor shall this peace sleep with her : but as wlien 

The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phoenix, 40 

Her ashes new create another heir, 

As great in admiration as herself ; 

So shall she leave her blessedness to one, 

When heaven shall call her from this cloud of darkness, 

Who from the sacred ashes of her honour 

Shall star-like rise, as great in fame as she was, 

And so stand fix'd ; peace, plenty, love, truth, terror, 

That were the servants to this chosen infant, 

Shall then be his, and like a vine grow to him : 

Wherever the bright sun of heaven shall shine, 60 

His honour and the greatness of his name 

Shall be, and make new nations : he shall flourish, 

And, like a mountain cedar, reach his branches 

To all the plains about him : our children's children 

Shall see this, and bless heaven. 

King. Thou speakest wonders. 

Cran, She shall be, to the happiness of England, 
An aged princess ; many days shall see her, 
And yet no day without a deed to crown it 
Would I had known no more ! but she must die, 



100 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH, [act v. sc. iv.] 

She must, the saints must have her ; yet a virgin, 60 

A most unspotted lily shall she pass 

To the ground, and all the world shall mourn her. 

King, O lord archbishop. 
Thou hast made me now a man ! never, before 
This happy child, did I get any thing : 
This oracle of comfort has so pleased me, 
That when I am in heaven I shall desire 
To see what this child does, and praise my Maker, 
I thank ye all. To you, my good lord mayor, 
And your good brethren, I am much beholding ; 70 

I have received much honour by your presence, 
And ye shall find me thankful. Lead the way, lords : 
Ye must all see the queen, and she must thank ye, 
She will be sick else. This day, no man think 
Has business at his house ; for all shall stay : 
This little one shall make it holiday. [Exeunt, 

EPILOGUE. 

'Tis ten to one this play can never please 
All that are here : some come to take their ease, 
And sleep an act or two ; but those, we fear. 
We have frighted with our trumpets ; so, 'tis clear, 
They '11 say 'tis naught : others, to hear the city 
Abused extremely, and to cry *That 's witty I ' 
Which we have not done neither : that, I fear, 
All the expected good we 're like to hear 
For this play at this time, is only in 

The merciful construction of good women ; 10 

For such a one we show'd 'em : if they smile. 
And say 'twill do, I know, within a while 
All the best men are ours ; for 'tis ill hap. 
If they hold when their ladies bid 'em clap. 



NOTES. 



Pbolooue. 

1. I come ... laugh. According to Wright, this play in all pro- 
bability followed a comedy. This of course is possible, but not 
necessary : the speaker of the Prologue may last have appeared 
at this theatre in a comedy. 

3. BaA...wotkiDgf of a serious, lofty, and moving character; 
«eu2 = serious, and sadness = serioixsneas, are very frequent in 
Shakespeare ; Staunton reads " Sad and high-working ^ cowop&T- 
ing Epistle DediccUorie to Chapman* s " Iliads of Homer ": ** Then 
let not this Divinitie in Earth (Deare Prince) be sleighted, as 
she were the birth Of idle Fancie; since she workes so hie**i ftill... 
woe, little more than an explanation of the foregoing words. 

5. now, redundant, owing to the parenthetical lines inter* 
vening. 

8. out of hope ... beUeve, in the hope that they may be able to 
believe in the truth of the events they see dramatized here. 

0. May ...too. From this expression, coupled with 11. 18, 21, 
it has been supposed that we have an allusion here to the double 
title of the Play, " All is True." See Introduction. 

0-13. Those that come ... hours, those who come expecting to 
see nothing more than some stace spectacles, and on such terms 
would thii^ that they had had uieir money's worth, if they will 
sit still and show themselves ready to be pleased, I will promise 
them that in the two short hours they will have to give their 
attention they shall have full value for their shilling : a show or 
two, mere * spectacle,' as apart from real dramatic representation 
of a story : pass, sc. current, be accepted as sufficient ; cp. W, T. 
iv. I. 9, *' Let me pa^ The same I am," i.e. receive me for what 
I am : their shilliocr. The price of admission varied then as 

101 



102 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [prol.] 

now with the place occupied in the theatre, and perhaps with 
the character of the theatre; thus admission to the pit or 
''ground*' (whence the term " groundlings," Hand, iiL 2. 12) 
was a penny, to the galleries twopence, to the " rooms ** or boxes 
threepence, to the stage sixpence, a shilling, and sometimes as 
much as half-a-crown. It must of course be remembered that the 
value of money was much greater in those days than at present : 
two ihort houn. From the various prologues and epilogues of 
the old dramatists we learn that between two and three hours 
was the average length of the performance ; but two seems, as 
Littledale remarks on T. N. K, ProL L 29, "to have been 
of tener promised, perhaps as a sop to the ' understanding eentle- 
men of the ground * {v. ProL Hvmofmu Lieutenant, * ana short 
enattgh, we hope*; and to The Coxcomb)*' ; here in the words 
" if they be still and willing " and in " short *' there seems to be 
the same appeal to the patience of the audience. 

15. A noise of targets, a mere medley of noisy hand to hand 
combats. So the First Part of Henry VL has been called " that 
drum and trumpet thing," from the number of combats in it. 

16. In along...ytilow, i.e, in such a dress as that worn by 
fools on the stage : motl^, from O. F. maiieU, dotted, knotted, 
curdled, and so spotted, means pied, variegated in colour as was 
the garb of fools : guarded, trimmed, as frequently, in Shake- 
speare ; so too guards = trimmings. 

18-22. To rank ... ftiend, if we were to place our authentic and 
well-chosen story on a level with a mere spectacle of buffoonery 
and horse-play, we should not only be abandoning all claims to 
intelligence and the assurance with which we come armed of 
making our purposed entertainment an exact representation of 
actual facts, out we should forfeit the goodwill of all intelligent 
persons. Malone regards L 21 as parenthetical, and refers that 
to opinion ; while he and others take opinion in the sense of 
reputation, character. 

23. for goodness' sake, out of your good-nature, from com- 
placence with our undertaking. 

24. The first ... town, the most cultivated and best disposed of 
all audiences. The sense of happiest here, one fre(]uent in the 
lAtia fdiXf is, according to Steevens, an argument m favour of 
the Prologue having been written by Jonson. But Shakespeare 
elsewhere uses happy in another Latin sense of felicitous, well- 
chosen ; and if there were no stronger argument oh the point, 
this would carry but little weight. 

25. sad, see note on 1. 3. 

27. Am ...liying, as you would see them if they were living ; 
see Abb. § 107. 



[ACT. I. SO. I.] NOTES. 103 

28. Bweaty %,e. caused by their anxiety to ahow themselves in 
attendance upon these great personages. 

30. meets, comes into contact with, is made acquainted with. 

Act I. Scene I. 

Stage Direction, the Dnke of Norfolk. Thomas Howard, 
the Earl of Surrey, "Jockey of Norfolk" in Richard the Thirds 
became second Duke of Norfolk in 1514. He commanded at the 
Battle of Flodden, his son leading the vanguard ; died in 1524.' 
the Duke of Buckingliain. Edward Stafford, son of the Duke of 
Buckingham in Richard the Thirdy who was put to death by that 
king, Henry the Eighth restored to the son the dukedom for- 
feited by his father, made him Lord High Constable and a 
Knight of the Garter. Incurring the enmity of Wolsey, he was 
arraigned for high treason and beheaded on Tower Hill, May 
17th, 1521. Lord Abergayenny. (George Nevill, grandson of Sir 
Edward, first Lord Abergavenny in 1450 ; was Constable of 
Dover Castle and Warden of the Cinque Ports ; also a K.G. ; 
died 1535. 

1. morrow, morning : done, fared. 

2. saw, met ; so Gymb. i. 1. 124, " When shall we Aee again ? ", 
and very similarly A. G. ii. 6. 86, " You and I have knoum, sir." 

3. a firesh admirer, one filled with ever fresh wonder at the- 
recollection of what I there beheld. 

4,5. An untimely ague... chamber. As a matter of fact 
Buckingham attended Henry at the Field of the Cloth of Gold ; 
and on the other hand Norfolk was in England at the time. 

6. Those sons of glory, those glorious earthly suns ; cp. 1. 33. 

7. Andren. '* In the second folio Andren is altered to Ardc, 
but Shakespeare gave the word as he found it in Holinshed's 
Ghronide"... (Dyce) : Onynes and Arde, two towns in Picardy, 
the former belonging to the English, the latter to the French. 

0. lighted, alighted. " The sense is to relieve a horse of his, 
burden, and the word is identical with the M. E. lighten j in the . 
sense of to relieve of a burden ...When a man alights from a 
horse, he not only relieves the horse of his burden, but completes 
the action by descending or alighting on the earth ; hence light 
came to be used in the sense of to descend, settle, often with the 
prep. on^\.. (Skeat, Ety, Diet), 

10. In their ...together, in the act of their embracing, as 
though they were becoming incorporated. 

11, 2. Whieh had they ... one 7 And if they had so become, no \ 
four other, kings could together have weighed with them in the 
scale of worth and glory. 



104 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act l 

14. Tbe TtoWy the view par excellence, the view above all other 
views ; for the implying notoriety, see Abb. § 92. 

15, 6. bat now ... itself; not merely doubled by union, but 
raised to a height never known before by bein^ combined with 
what was more pompons, splendid, than itself. The idea of 
marriage here suggests to the poet not only the importance 
accruing to a woman from that state, but also the increase to 
that importance when she marries a man of higher rank than 
herself. But there ia of course no allusion to the superior pomp 
of the one king over the other. 

16-8. Sach following... its, each successive day taught some- 
thing to that which came next, till the last day of the whole 
pageant united in itself all the glories of its predecessors ; for 
its, see Abb. § 228. 

10. All dinqnant, one mass of glittering splendour : cUnqnant, 
properly the present participle of the Fr. verb dinquer, to tinkle, 
to clink ; ** found in 15th centuiy in or clinqtuifUt gold in thin 

Slates, leaf -gold "... (Murray, 6ng, Diet.), Chapman, The 
fctsque of the Inner Temple^ etc., represents the god of wealth, 
Plutus, as havins " his head and beard sprinkled with showers 
of gold; his buskins clinquant,** No doubt as used here there 
is the idea both of glitter and of the tinkling sound made 
by the armour, etc., of those at the tournament : All, ad- 
verbial here as in i. ^. IV, iv. 1. 97, "All fumish*d, all in 
arms " : like heathen gods, in images of which the wooden, 
earthen, stone, substratum is often covered with leaf-gold or 
with thin plates of that metal. 

20. Shone down, outshone, caused to look mean by their 
superior splendour. 

20, 1. they ...India, they, the English, as though exhibiting 
all ** the wealth of Ormus and of Ind," outvied the French. 

22, 3. Their dwarfish ...gilt, even their little pages were a 
mass of gold, like figures of cherubins ; cp. Exodua, xxxvii. 7, 
« And he made two cherubims of gold, beaten out of one piece 
made he them": cherubins, " ^eruhin, cherubins^ are the 
original English forms, as still in French. But, in the process 
of biblical translation, cherubin has been supplanted by cTieruh ; 
and cherubins has been 'improved' successively to cher^thims, 
chertibim ; while concurrently, cherub has been popularly fitted 
with a new plural c^erufta" ... (Murray, Ihig. iHct.), The 
popular modern use of a * cherub * is a rosy-cheeked, chubby 
mtant, the idea coming from the resemblance of such children to 
infant angels as depicted on grave-stones, in painted windows, 
etc. , cherubin in early English beine the proper name of an indi- 
vidual angel, then a company or order of angels. 



SCENE I.] NOTES. 105 

23. the madaniB, the ladies who were spectators of the tourna- 
ment ; madam, Fr. ma dame, my lady, run into one word in 
French madame, as in Eng. madam. In such expressions as 
"Dear my lord," J. G. ii. I. 255, "Good my brother," Hami. 
L 3. 46, and others of a like kind, there is a like tendency to 
agglutination, and similarly the French often write mUord, 
mUadi, as though each was a single word. 

25. The pride ... them, the proud, gorgeous, clothes in which 
they were decked : for pride, the abstract for the concrete, cp. 
8onn. xcix. 3, '* The purple pride Which on thy (the violet's) soft 
cheek for complexion dwells." 

25, 6. that their very ... painting, so that the very labour of 
wearing this weight of finery caused their cheeks to glow with 
colour : 2iow, on one night. 

28. Hade ... beggar, so far outshone it as to make it con- 
temptible. 

30. Am presence ... them, according as each in his turn displaced 
his splendour : in presence there seems besides the idea of showing 
themselves, appearing, that of their lordly air, mien, as in 
M, F*. iiL 2. 64, ** Now he goes With no less presence, but with 
much more love, Than young Alcides." 

30, 1. him in eye, ... praise, the one who happened to show 
himself being the one who for the time was the subject of all 
praise : Still, ever : him, for Jie, is probably due to attraction to 
them governed by present. 

32. 'Twas said ... one, they were so alike in splendour that the 
beholders, it was said, could see but one object oefore them. 

32, 3. and no discemer ... censure, and no one, however keen 
his eye and judgment, ventured to prefer one to the other : wag 
is generally used with tongue of groundless and often of depre- 
ciatory comment, as in Haml, iiL 4. 39, ''What have I done, 
that tnou darest wag thy tongue In noise so rude against me ? ", 
but here there is nothing more than the idea of much talk : 
censure, judgment, opinion ; the original neutral sense of the 
word ; that of depreciation, condemnation, which the word has 
now acquired, being due to the fact that our judgment of others 
is so often unfavourable. 

34. challenged. " The two kings, each with seven assistants, 
challenged all comers, and the jousting lasted, with an interval 
of two days, from June II to June 22 " (Wright). 

36-8. that former ... believed, that the stories of old days, 
hitherto thought mere fables, being shown, by the feats of arms 
displayed, to be things easily possible, were now received as 
truth, so far that even the marvellous exploits of Bevis no longer 
excited incredulity. Bevis of Southampton, a famous Saxon 



106 KING HENBY THE EIGHTH. [aotl 

knight, mentioned in CamdenVi Britanfda, He is the sabject of 
an old English metrical romance, and his marvelloos exploits are 
related in the second book of Drayton's PolyoHnon, He is said 
to have conquered the giant Ascapart, and to have been made 
Earl of Southampton by William the Conqueror. 

38. you fi^o fax, you are surely exaggerating ; cp. Cymb. i. 1. 
24, **Sec. Gent. You specde him far. First Oent, I do extend 
him, sir, within himself. Crush him together rather than unfold 
His measure duly." 

39-42. Am I bdloacr ... tongue to, I swear by my nobility and by 
the love of truth which as a man of rank and honour I cherish, 
the course of the various events would even in the relation of a 
skilled narrator lose some of that vividness and spirit which the 
reality displayed : worship, dignity, honour^ here of the order to 
which he belonged ; cp. W. T. i. 2. 303, ** whom I from meaner 
form Have bench'd and rear'd to toorship.** 

42. royal, worthy of the kingly personages who took part in 
the proceedings. 

43. To the disposing ...rebelled, nothing occurred to interfere 
with the arrangements originally made ; there was not the 
slightest hitch in the proceedings. 

44. Order ... view, tha proceedings were so well ordered, 
arranged, that every event was cleany seen by the spectators. 

44, 5. the oflQlce ... function, those entrusted with the manage- 
ment of the jousting performed each his duty with admirable 
completeness : for office = officers, the abstract for the concrete, 
cp. Haml, iii. 1. 73, ** the insolence of office" In the three first 
folios "All was royal ... together " is given to Buckingham. 
The arrangement in the text is Theobald's, and has been adopted 
by most modern editors. 

45-7. Who did gruide ... gness? Who, so far as you can guess, 
was the guiding spirit in everything, who, in other words, pieced 
together the various details of this great sport so as to make it a 
perfect whole ? 

48, 9. One, certes ... bufdness, " one assuredly of whom it could 
not be expected that he would find his proper sphere in such a 
business' (Schmidt) : certes, here and in Oth, i. 1. 16, a mono- 
syllable ; in Temp, iii. 3. 30, and G. E, iv. 4. 78, a dissyllable. 
The word is properly Old French and in that language was 
formerly written more fully a certes, i,e, from certain (grounds). 

50. order'd, arranged, set in order. 

52, 3. no man's pie ... finger. To have a finger in another's 
pie is a proverbial saying for being a meddler. 

53, 4. What had he ... vanities ? What business had he, a man 
whose life should be devoted to religion, to take part in frivolities 



scKNKji.] NOTES. 107 

of this kind, and frivolities moreover of so warlike a charact^f 
Schmidt and others explain fierce as immoderate, excessive, 
extravagant ; Johnson as proud. 

, ^ 55-7. Tbat sndi . . . earth, that such a lump of fat should by his 
very size intercept the kindly rays of the sun and prevent them 
reaching the eartn ; i.e. in plain language, should engross all the 
favour of the- sovereign : keedi means the fat of an ox or a cow 
rolled up bv the butcher in a round lump, and is here applied Uy 
Wolsey as being reputed the son of a butcher, though in reality 
his father was a wealthy burgess and landholder in Ipswich. 
So in ii. JT*. /F. ii. 1. 101, the word is used for the name of a 
butcher's wife, and in i. H. IV. ii. 4. 252, Falstaff is called "thou 
obscure, greasv tallow-il;e6c^," according. to Steevens's correction 
of the old reading ** iAllow-catch," 

58. There's in him ... ends, there is innate in him a vigour of 
purpose that urges him forwards to the carrying out of such 
undertakings. 

59. propp'd t^ ancestry, fortified by "the claims of long 
descent." 

59, 60. whose grace ... way, the high merits of which ancestry 
(ancestors) marks out the path in which its descendants are 
bound to walk. 

60, 1. nor call'd upon ... crown, nor stimulated by eminent 
services already rendered to the crown, services which in them- 
selves are an incitement to further efforts. 

61,2. neither ...assistants, nor even owing anything to the 
cO'Operation of men in high place. 

62, 3. but, spider-like, ...web, but out of the web which he 
draws from himself, as the spider draws its web from its own 
entrails. Rowe and Capell read " aeU-drat(m," but drawing may 
perhaps be here used in a passive sense, as, in ^. C. iii. 13. 77, 
'* his (dl-oheying breath '' means his breath that is obeyed' by all ; 
see Abb. § 372. 

63, 4. he gives ... way, he proclaims to us (sc. by his actions) 
that he owes his success to his own merits. The first folio reads 
"Web. gives vs note"; the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th, ** Web. ! 
gives us note," but ** 0," as Capell observes, is probably a press- 
corruption of -4, or 'a, i.e. He. The sense will be " but, he gives 
us note that, like the spider who draws his web from his own 
entrails, he owes everything to himself." 

65, 6r that heaven ... Un^r, a free sift from heaven which he in 
his turn employs to purchase the hi^est good graces of the king. 
Rolfe takes for him as = for his own use ; Wright explains "as 
he had nothing of his own " ; and there is evidently an antithesis 
between the favour of heaven freely given and the favour of the 



108 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act i. 

king which has to be purchased. Warburton oonjectnres ** A gift 
that heaven gives ; wnich bnys for him " ; a reading adopted by 
Pyce and Walker. 

68, 0. Imt I can see ...him. Steevens comiMures T* G, iv. 6. 
56, 7, *' her wanton spirits look out At every joint and motive of 
her body,*^ 

70-2. the devil ... blmsdlf, if he does not derive his pride from 
heU, then all I can say is that the devil has become a niegard, or 
has already given away his whole store of that commodity, and 
Wolsey, for want of help from the devil, is the author of a new 
hell in himself. 

72. Why the devil, why, in the name of the devil 

73. going oat, expedition, outing. 

75. the file, the list, catalogue ; cp. Macb, v. 2. 8, "I have a 

^fe Of all the gentry." 

76-8. for the most . . . upon, consisting for the most part of those 
upon whom he designed to impose expense as great as the honour 
they would gain would be small, i,e. men whom he selected not 
becaase he wished that they should win honour but because he 
wished that they should be involved in great outlay. Various 
efforts have been made to emend the faulty construction ; but the 
text is probably genuine, there being a confusion of constructions 
between ' those to whom he meant to give as great,' etc., and 
'those on whom he meant to lay,' etc. For such followed by 
wfio, see Abb. § 278. 

78-80. and his own . . . papers, if the text is genuine, must mean, 
as Pope says, ** his own letter, by his own smgle authority, and 
without the concurrence of the council, must fetch him in whom 
he papers down." Rolfe quotes from Warner's Albion^s England 
an mstfiknce of paper used as a verb, " Set is the soveraigne Sunne 
did shine when papered last our penne." Staunton proposes he 
paupers, 

82. sloken'd, impoverished, impaired. 

84. Have broke ... 'em, have ruined themselves by spendin^^ 
the value of whole estates upon clothes to wear in tnis expedi- 
tion. Steevens compares a. «/*. iL 1. 70; Malone, Camden's 
Remains, ** There was a nobleman merrily conceited, and riot- 
ously given, that having lately sold a manor of an hundred 
tenements, came ruffling into the court, saying, am not I a 
mighty man that beare an hundred houses on my backe?" 
Whalley adds from Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy ^ ** *Tis an 
ordinary thing to put a thousand oakes, or an hundred oxen, 
into a sute of apparell, to weare a whole manor on his back." 

85-7. What did ...issue? Wright's explanation here clearly 
seems to be the correct one : — ^wluit did all this pompous show 



SCENE I.] NOTES. 109 

do ''but fumifih occasion for a conference which led to a poor 
result.'' He quotes from Holinshed's Chronicle, where Bucking- 
ham is reported to have said *' that he knew not for what cause 
so much monie should be spent about the sight of a value talke 
to be had, and communication to be ministered of things o/ no 
importance.** The poor result is the peace entered into. 

90. the bldeoiui stonn, that of the 18th of June, related by 
Holinshed. 

01. not consnltiiig, independently of each other. 

92-4. Tbat ibis tempest ... on 't, that this storm which had 
oome down upon and drenched the garment of this peace, for- 
boded that that garment would shortly be rent asunder; for 
on = of, see Abb. § 182. 

94. WUdi ... out, and this result has followed ; the prophecy 
then in its bud has now blossomed into the full flower. 

95. flaw'd, broken, cracked : attached, seized upon. 

96. at Bonrdeauz. Hall's Cfhronide mentions the French 
kine's command, given on the 6th of March, 1522, that all 
En^ishmen's goods should be ** attached and put under a reste." 

97. Is silenced. " ' The Ambassador was commanded to kepe 
his house in silence ' (Hall, p. 634). His name was Denis Poillot 
or Ponllot " (Wright). Kajry, a corruption of (by the Virgin) 
Mary, a petty form of asseveration. 

98. A proper ... peace, a pretty thing to have the name of a 
peace ! 

100. carried, managed, arranged : Like ... grace, if your grace 
will allow me to make the remark ; a polite way of introducing 
an unpleasant subject. 

101. The state, the king. 

103, 4. And take it ... safety) and be assured that the advice 
comes from one who wishes you all honour and the fullest safety : 
take it may perhaps be an instance of the indefinite use of it ; 
see Abb. § 226. 

104-6. that you read ...Together, I advise you to remember 
that the Cardinal has not merely the ill will but also the power 
to injure you ; in order to understand the full drift of his mean- 
iiig you must read the context with the text. 

107, 8. What ... power, in his power he has a weapon that 
will carry into effect what his hatred designs ; little more than 
an amplification of the foregoing sentence. 

Ill, 2. where 'twill not ... it, where he cannot himself effect 
his purpose he will employ others rather than come short o| it* 



110 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [acti. 

112. BoMMn np my couuMI, treasare np my advice in your 
iomoet thonghts ; cp. Lear^ iv. 5. 26, "you are of her hosom" 
t.e. yon are in all her secrets. 

115. mmreyor. "Grafton speaks of him as Charles Knivet, 
Esqnier, Coeyn to the Dnke of Buckingham " ... (French). 

116. Ills ezamlnaUon, t.e. the record of it : so please yon, if it 
so please you, if I may be allowed to say so ; cp. L 100, aboV& 

120. This Imteher's ear. Gray observes that when the death 
of the Duke of Buckingham was told to the Emperor Charles V., 
he said "The first buck of England was worried to death by a 
butcher's dog," 

122. Hot wakB ... dumlMr. An allusion to the proverbial 
saying, "Let sleeping dogs lie." tMM>k, learning; cp. iLJ7.Fi. 

iv. 7. 77. 

123. Out worths ...blood, is thought of more worth than high 
birth : chafed, inflamed to anger ; heated into an outburst of 
your wrath. 

124. tempenmee, moderation, self-restraint: the apfdiaiioe 
only, the only lenitive that can be applied with efifect. Cp. 
Hand, iv. 3. 10, "diseases desperate grown By desperate appU- 
once are relieved." 

126. Matter against me, evil that he plots against me. 

127. his abject object, <Hhe object of his contempt " (Schmidt). 

128. bores me, gulls me, overreaches me. That this is the 
sense of the phrase is clear, but the origin is doubtfuL Staunton 
suggests that the radical idea is that of undermining. Steevens 
compares The Life and Death of Tkomcu CromweUj " one that 
hath gulled you, that hath bor^ vou, sir." There was also an 
old phrase "His, my, etc., nose is bored," with the same sense ; 
and possibly the original idea may have been that of putting a 
string through the nose of an animal to lead it wherever one 
liked. 

129. oatftare, face him with so angry a look that his eyes will 
fall before mine. 

130. question, debate, argue. 

181. What ...about, what it is you meditate doing, t.e. how 
foolish it will be to provoke him. 

133. A Aill-hot horse, a spirited horse with its blood roused, 
Steevens compares Massineer, The Unnatural Gombat, iv. 2. 6, 7, 
"Let passion work, and, like a hot-rein*d horse, 'Twill quickly 
tire itself." 

133, 4. who being ... him, who if he be allowed to go his own 
pace is soon wearied by his high-spirited efforts : there is a con- 
fuAon of constructions between " who being, etc.^ is tired by. his 



SCENE L] NOTKS. ill 

self -mettle," and *'whom, if he is allowed, etc., his self -mettle 
tires." 

135, 6. be to yourself... Mend, as cautious and circumspect, 
and therefore as truly a friend to yourself as you would be to 
one whom you desired to befriend in any matter. 

137. £rom a mouth of honour, with such outspoken language as 
befits a man of rank. He contrasts his mouth of honour with 
the insolent lies of this upstart Wolsey. 

138, 9. or proclaim ...persons, or proclaim it abroad that no 
more regard is paid to men of high birth and position than to one 
who belongs to the dregs of the populace. 

139. Be advised, be cautious, prudent ; do not act* without 
reflection. 

140, 1. Heat not ... yourself. Steevens thinks there is probably 
an allusion to Daniel, iii. 22, "Therefore because tne kings 
commandment was urgent, and the furnace exceeding hot, the 
flame of the fire slew those men that took up Shadrach, Meshach, 
and Abednego." 

144. mounts ... o'er, causes the liquor to boil over. 

147. More BtmBgeTf better^ capable ; for the double compara- 
tive, see Abb. § 11. 

148. the sap of reason ... quendh. In regard to reason the idea 
pf sap is that of the pith, marrow, vital principle of anything ; 
in regard to quench, the idea is that of juice, moisture. Steevens 
compares Band, iii. 4. 124, "Upon the heat and flame of thy 
distemper Sprinkle cool patience. 

149. Or hut allay, or even qualify, moderate, if not altogether 
quench. 

150. 1. I'll go ... prescxiption, I will guide my steps by your 
directions. 

151-3. this top-proud ...intelligence, tills low wretch whose 
pride knows no limit and whom I am led to mention not from 
the bitterness of my feelings a^indt him but from upright, 
honest,, motives, I know by intelligence I have received, etc. 
With top-proud cp. below, i 2. 214, "He's traitor to the 
height.'' 

156. treasonous, treasonable. 

157. my youOh, my attestation, warrant of what I say: to 
vouch is from O. F. voucher , to cite, to call into aid in a suit ; 
from Lat. vocare, ta summon. . . 

158. Km shore of ro6k, as the foundations of a rock; the 
original sense of shore = prop, is something shorn or cut off of a 
required length, so as to serve as a support. Schmidt -explains 



112 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act i. 

**aB a rock standinff the rage of the waves." But cp. H. V, 
iii. 1. 13, "As fearfuUy as doth a galled rock O'erhang and jutty 
his confounded base,** For the omission here of Uie definite 
and indefinite articles, see Abb. § 82 : Attend, listen* 

159. eqaal, equally ; see Abb. § I. 

161, 2. his mind ... reciprocally, his naturally oorrnpt mind in- 
fecting his position as first minister, and that position in its turn 
infecting his mind. 

164. snggests, incites, prompts. In Shakespeare to suggest 
and suggestion have more often than not a bad sense, — the latter 
almost always so. 

166, 7. and like ... rinsing, and like a drinking glass was of so 
brittle a nature that it could stand no rough usage, broke at the 
least strain put upon it. 

168. give me fiftYOur, do me the kindness to hear me out. 

169. The arfeidles ... oombinatlon, the details of the alliance. 
Wr^;ht says that the articles ''regulating all the details of 
the interview are given fully both by Hall and Holinshed " ; but 
mere details of the irUervie'w would hardly be spoken of as being 
ratified (L 170). 

171) 2. to as much ... dead, with just as useful a result as that 
of mving a crutch to a dead man : count-cardinal, as Archbishop 
of York, Wolsey was a Count-Palatine. Pope reads ** Court- 
Cardinal." 

173, 4. Has done ... it, repeating ironically what the king and 
the admirers of Wolsey may be supposed to have said seriously. 

175, 6. a kind ... dam, as we say, a chip of the old block. 

177. bis aunt. Charles V., Emperor of Grermany, was son to 
Joanna of Castile, daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain, 
and so nephew to Catherine of Arragon, Henry's queen, Joanna's 
sister. 

178. o61our, pretext. 

179. To wliisper Wolsey, to have private communication with 
Wolsey, whom he looked upon as all powerful with the king. 
For the omission of the preposition to, see Abb. § 200 : makes 
visitation, pays a visit. 

182. Breed ... prejudice, give birth to something that would be 
prejudicial, injurious, to his interests; a ''prejudice" is a 
judgment formed before any defence can be heard, and so a 
judgment that is likely to be unfavourable, or at least unfair. 

183. Peep'd, t.e. he could not clearly see them, but could guess 
something as to their nature. 

184. trow, believe, suppose to be true : from A,S« triowe, true. 



SCENE I.] NOTES. 113 

186. Paid ... promised, had to bribe him well before he could 
get a promise out of him, a promise to look after his interests. 

186, 7. wbereby ... ask'd, i.e, such was Wolsey's greed that he 
was ready to promise anything asked of him as soon as he got 
the money into his hands, without even waiting to know what 
the request might be : when ... made, when the path had been 
smoothed by this bribe. 

193. And ...advantage, that Wolsey not merely \sis the 
audacity to traffic in the king's honour, but does so to make 
his own profit out of the transaction. 

195. Sometliing mistaken, somewhat misjudged by you; cp. 
A, Y, L, i. 3. 66, *' mistake me not so much To think my poverty 
is treacherous.'' 

197. in proof, when put to the proof. For the ellipsis of the 
relative, see Abb. § 394. 

Stage Dibection. Brandon. This is a mistake. Brandon's 
name is not mentioned in the Chronicles, and the arrest was 
really made by Sir Henry Mame, or Mamey, captain of the 
king s guard, who on the attainder of the Duke obtained a grant 
of some of his forfeited estates. 

198. Your office, you see before you your office, the duty you 
have to perform. 

199. 200. the Duke ... Northampton. In all legal and official 
proceedings it is customaiy to rehearse the full style and title of 
the person concerned. From the de Bohuns he inherited the 
Earldoms of Hereford and Northampton. 

201. Arrest thee of. Shakespeare generally uses of to express 
the cause of seizure, as here ; but in M, M. i. 4. 66, C JSI, iv. 2. 49, 
and Lear, v. 3. 82, the preposition is on. 

202. Lo, generally considered as an equivalent to looh; but Skeat 
points out that A.S. Id, lo ! has nothing in common with the 
A.S. Idcian, to look, except the initial letter. **The fact is, 
rather, that Id is a natural interjection, to call attention." 

204. practice, plot, underhand dealing ; as most frequently in 
Shakespeare. 

205, 6. To see ... present, to see you deprived of your liberty, 
to be a witness of the present unhappy business. The latter 
clause seems merely to emphasize the former ; but Staunton 
explains, ** I am sorry, since it is to see you deprived of liberty, 
that I am a witness to this business " ; a preferable explanation 
if only the words will bear the sense. 

207. You shaU. For the ellipsis of the verb of motion, sec 
Abb. § 405. 

H 



114 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [acti. 

208. dje. Rolfe remarks that " the literal meaning of eUtcdnder 
IB staining.** This is not etymologically tme, the word really 
coming from attain; but the belief in the connection between 
taint and attaint is of so old a date that possibly Shakespeare may 
have had the idea in his mind. 

217. Lord Montaeate. Henry Pole, ^andson of George, Duke 
of Clarence, created Lord Montagu. He was pardoned at this 
time, but afterwards beheaded for another act of treason. 

218, 9. Jolm...Pedk. ''The name is given as Perke both in 
Hall and Holinshed. Both are apparently wrong. In the papers 
connected with the trial of the I>uke of Buckingham, now in the 
Record Office, the name of the Duke's chaplain and confessor 
appears as John Delaconrt, and his chancellor is called Robert 
Gilbert, clerk. Possibly Perke and Pecke are corruptions of 
'clerk'"... (Wright). 

220. fbe limbs, he himself being the head and body 

221. A monk ... Cluurtrenz. " Nicholas Hopkins, a monk of an 
house of the Chartreux order {i.e. the Cistercians], beside Bristow, 
called Henton " (Holinshed, Chronicle). 

223. Is spaim'd, Ib measured, has its term fixed : probably, as 
Reed suggests, with an allusion to the saying in scripture that 
man's life is but a span long. 

224-6. I am ... sun, I am but the shadow of what I once was, 
and that shadowy figure this impending cloud of misfortune 
assumes by coming between me and the sun of my prosperity, 
thus obscurinff its rays. Wright explains, " As Buckingham is 
thus but the shadow of his former self, the impending cloud of 
calamity assumes his figure and resembles him, oeing the shadow 
which darkens the brightness of his prosperity " ; an explanation 
which hardly seems to express the meaning of By, i.e. hardly 
shows how the cloud came to assume the figure. Grant White's 
version is very similar : ** The speaker savs that his life is cut 
short already, and that what they see is but the shadow of the 
real Buckingham, whose figure is assumed by the instant [the 
present, the passing] cloud which darkens the sun of his 
prosperity." in all these explanations shadow is used in two 
different senses, (1) as that which is unsubstantial, unreal, 
impalpable, and (2) as that which is dark, gloomy. Johnson 
avoided this ambiguity by taking this Instant cloud to refer to 
Wolsey — ^an explanation that few will accept. 

Scene XL 

Stage DntEcmoN. Sir Thomas Lovell, esquire of the body to 
Henrj' VII., who made him Chancellor of the Exchequer in 1485, 
later on became Marshall of the House to Henry VIII. and Con- 



SCJBNB n.] NOTES. 116 

stable of the Tower. Wright shows that the preliminary 
examination of Buckingham took place not in London but at 
Greenwich. He adds that ** The chronology of the scene is very 
much confused. The investigation of the charges against 
Buckingham took place in April, 1521, and the rebellion on 
account of the commission was four years later." 

1. best heart of it, most precious, most vital part of it, the 
very core. 

2. 1* the level, facing the plot point-blank : cp. W, T, ii. 3. 6, 
"out of the blank And level of my brain"; Uth. iii. 4. 128, 
*' within the blank of his displeasure." The figure is kept up in 
the next line. 

4 choked it, strangled it at its birth. 

6. justUy, confirm, establish the truth of. 

Staob DiBEonoN. Dnke of Suffolk. Charles Brandon, the 
son of Sir William Brandon, slain at the Battle of Bosworth, 
was brought up with Henry VIII., with whom he was a great 
favourite. He was created Duke of Suffolk in 1514, and in 1515 
married Mary, the king's sister, and widow of Louis XII. of 
France ; died August, 1545 : his state, his chair of state, throne. 

12. moiety, half, from Lat. medietas ; often used by Shake- 
speare for a part whether more or less than a half. 

13. Repeat your will, state what it is you wish of us ; in 
Shi^espeare's use of repecU the simple meaning of telling, men- 
tioning, is more common than that of speaking or telling again. 

14-6. and In that ... ofUce, and that you should manifest that 
love in one way by carefully considering, being jealous of, your 
honour, etc. 

18. I am solicited, it has been urgently represented to met 
not ...few, by many; a figure of speech in which emphasis is 
obtained by the appearance of moderation. For the transposition 
of not, see Abb. § 420. 

19. of tme condition, of loyal disposition ; condition in the 
sense of character, temper, disposition, is very frequent in Shake- 
speare, e,g, M, V. i. 2. 143, '*the condition of a saint, and the 
complexion of a deviL" 

20. grievance, afiOiction, trouble: now only in the sense of 
cause of complaint, a sense not uncommon in Shakespeare. 

21 . hath flaw'd the heart, has broken the spirit, the spontaneous 
and deeply-seated feeling. 

22. loyalties. We should not now use this plural of an abstract 
noun. 

24. imtter on, instigator : cp. W, T, ii. 1. 141, <* You are abused, 
and by some putter-on,** 



116 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [aoti. 

27,8. ffndi wliidi ...l^yal^, such as utterly destroys all 
loyalty ; the iignre is taken from violent bodily paroxysms, as 
in W, T» ii. 1. 44, '*he cracks his gorge, his sides, With violent 
hefts '* i for snoli which, see Abb. § 278. 

28, 9. aad almost ... rebellion, and is manifested in all bat open 
rebellion. 

32. The many... longing, the crowd of artisans that depend 
upon them for employment; the abbreviated form long^hdong is 
frequent in Shakespeare : put off, dlBmiesed. 

34. Unlit ... life, t.e. knowing no other trade than their own by 
which to earn a livelihood. 

36. Daring ... teatb, recklessly facing the peril of rebellion* 

37. And danger ...them, and you will find their desperation 
very dangerous : danger Ib here almost personified. 

38. Wherein?... taxation? On what commodities are these 
taxes laid, and what is the amount imposed ? 

41-3. X know... me, in matters that pertain to the state my 
knowledge is but that of an individual («.«. the same as that of 
others), and I do but march in the same line with others : in 
front there does not seem to be any idea of priority or of boldness, 
but merely that of facing in the same direction like soldiers in a 
line : toll ... me, count stops with me, i.e. keep stop with me. 

44, S. but 3rou frame... alike, '<but you are the person who 
frame those thinffs that are altorwards proposed, and known 
equally by all " (Monok Mason). 

46-7. whloh are not . . . acquaintance, which are &r from pleasant 
to those who are compelled to become acquainted with them against 
their will 

48. would haye note, desires information : they, a redundancy 
owing to the parenthesis. 

50. The back... load, t.6. is more than human endurance is 
capable (tf . 

01, Si. or «lBe... exclamation, which if not true, the outcry 
against you is undeserved: Still exaction I Again that word 
** exaction *' ! 

55. tempting ot See Abb. § 178. 

56. grief, here cause of oomplaint, grievance. 

59, 80. And the pretenoo... France. We should now reverse 
subject and predicato and say *your wars in France are named as 
the excuse for this * : bold, audacious in their language. 

61, 2. Tongaea...them, your subjects repudiate with disgust 
all obligations to their king,, and their onoe-wann alkgiance has 
become icy cold. 



scKNB'ii.] NOTES. 117 

64, 5. This tractable ... will. Rowe changed Tbla to Thai^ «.e. 
8o that, and Dyce follows him. The sense would certainly be 
clearer, but the reading in the text may mean 'this obedience 
which was once so readily yielded has now become the slave of 
the resentment so universally felt.' 

67. There iB...lm8ixie88, there is nothing that calls more 
urgently for your consideration. 

69, 70. I liave . . . voice, I am no further responsible than for 
having given my vote in counciL 

70, 1. and that... judges, and even that vote I should not have 
given if I had not had on my side fhe approval of those learned 
m the law, whose judgment I might well suppose to be trust- 
worthy, 

73, 4. yet will be ... doing, and yet, in spite of that ignorance, 
are determined to be the chroniclers of my actions, as though 
they were competent to play that part. 

75. brake, thicket, tangled and prickly coppice. 

76, 7. We must ... actions, we must not put a limit to tnose 
actions of ours which our position demands of us. 

78. To cope ... censurers, of encountering men of malicious 
tongue ; for cope, cp. -4. F. 2/. ii. 1. 67, ** 1 love to cope him in 
these sullen fits." 

81-3. What we oft ...allowed, what are often our most praise- 
worthy actions are by jaundiced judges, occasionally weak ones, 
declared not to be our own, or, if admitted to be oiirs, are not 
applauded. This seems to be the meaning if once weak ones is 
genuine, which I do not believe. Wright gives " by interpreters 
who were in the first instance incapable of judging his motives, 
and have since become morbidly prejudiced asainst him." The 
proposition is, however, a general one, and this application of it 
seems to me too particular and special : allowed, in this use from 
Lat. cUlatidare, to applaud. 

83-5. what worst, . . . act, while our worst acts, suiting the taste, 
fitting in with the ideas, of the baser sort, are cried up as being 
our masterpieces. 

85-8. If we shall . . . only, if we are determined to remain inactive 
simply from fear that our actions may be ridiculed or cavilled at, 
we should become mere stocks or lifeless images of state : in shall 
there is the idea of obligation, fixed determination, and in the 
consequent clause, as Abbott points out, § 371, there is a change 
of thought, the sentence being equivalent to ''if we shall stand 
still (or rather, if we should, for we shall not) we should," etc. 

89. with a care, with proper deliberation, forethought. 

90. without example, with no precedent for a guide : issue, 
result. 



1 18 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act i. 

93, 4. We must not ... will, we must not, in dealing with our 
subjects, substitute arbitrary will for the regular course of the 
law. This is the general sense, but the figure is that of plucking 
up a flower from the soil in which it thrives and sticking it in 
one's dress for mere personal gratification. 

95. A trembling oontrilmtion I " i.e. a contribution attended by 
trembling (-ing being the gerund) ; cf. tUl-obeying breathy unre- 
calling crime, feeling sorrown" (Schmidt). The trembling is 
perhaps not merely that of those who are obliged to contribute, 
out of those who exact the contribution knowing how dangerous 
it is to drive the people to eirtremities. 

96. lop, the branches, that which is lopped oiF: the timber, 
that part of the tree which affords material for building, the main 
stem, or portions of it. 

98. will ... sap, and so cause it to wither. 

99. Where ...question'd, where this matter is being debated, 
where the people are protesting against such an exaction. 

103. writ. For the curtailed form of past participles, see 
Abb. § 343. 

104. Of, t.e. bearing tidings of. 

105. Hardly ... me, have hard thou(;hts about me : noised made 
publicly known. 

106. revokement, revocation. 

108. Farther ... proceeding, what further steps are to be taken 
m the matter. 

110. Is ran ... displeasure, has incurred your anger : on Is, see 
Abb. § 295. 

112. To nature ... bound, no one owes more to the gifts of 
nature ; no one has been more lavishly endowed with talents by 
nature. 

113. famish, 8C, with those things a teacher needs, his stock 
in trade of learning. 

114. And never ...himself, without having recourse to any 
treasures but those of his own mind, any store, or magazine, of 
learning but his own. 

115. beneflte, good gifts. 

116. Not well disposed, not turned to a good purpose, not made 
the best of. 

117. 8. ten times ...fair, an allusion to the saying corruptio 
optimi pessima, no corruption is so bad as that of what was once 
very good : complete. ** The form cdmplete always [in Shake- 
speare] precedes a noun accented on the first syllable, complete is 
always m the predicate .... One verse [t. e. the present one] seems 



80BNB II.] NOTESL 119 

to make an exception. But in consideration of the many metrical 
irregularities caused by a full stop in the middle of a verse, there 
can be no serious difficulty found in this seeming anomaly " 
(Schmidt, Appendix, i. 1). 

119. Who was ... wonders, who was looked upon as one of the 
wonders of creation. 

120. Almost ... listening, with an attention that was almost 
carried away by its intensity ; with an almost ecstatic attention. 

120, 1. conld not ... minute, could not bring ourselves to believe 
that so much as a minute had passed even when in reality he had 
been talking for a whole hour. The sentence is involved, but is 
equivalent &> ' This man who was enrolled, etc., and whose hour 
of speech we, listening with rapt attention, could not find,* etc. 

122. habits, dress. 

125. In trust, in his confidence, thoroughly trusted by him. 

126. Things ... sad, things that no man of honour could listen 
to without pain. 

127. practices, plots ; see note on i. 1. 204. 

127, 8. whereof ... much, of the details of which we cannot be, 
for our safety, too fully informed, and the efiects of which we 
trust we may never feel. 

130. careftil, ».e. of the welfare of your sovereign. 

130, 1. cOllocted... Buckingham, gathered and put together 
from your acquaintance with the life and actions of the Duke. 

132, 3. every day ... speech, it was a thing ever in his mouth 
and one that, so to speak, poisoned his language. 

134, 5. he'll carry ... his, he would so manage matters as to 
secure his succession to the crown : he'll, another instance of 
irregularity of sequence of tenses, and a sort of confusion between 
the direct and the oblique narration, i.e, between ** He said, * if 
the kins should die, etc., I will carry it,*" etc., and ** He said 
that if the king should die, etc., he would carry it," etc. 

137, 8. to whom ... cardinal, speaking to whom he swore that 
he would take revenge upon the cardinal. 

138, 9. note ... point, "note this particular part of this 
dangerous design " (Johnson). 

140, 1. Not ftiended ... malignant, if his wish, that you should 
die, is not realized and he cannot in this way attain his ends, he 
cherishes evil thoughts against your life, i.e. in default of his wish 
coming true, he is certain to employ violent means to remove you 
from his path. 

144. How grounded ... crown, upon what did he base his claim 
to the throne ? 



120 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act l 

145. Upon our fail, if we should die without issue : to tills 
point, bearing upon, having relation to, this point. 

149, 50. who fed him .., sovereignty, who was for ever feeding 
his pride by talking of his claims to the throne and his chances of 
succeeding you. 

152. the Rose, a manor belonging to the Duke which about 
1561 was bought by Richard Mill, sometime master of the 
Merchant Tailors Company and converted into Merchant Tailors 
SchooL 

157. To the king's danger, with the result of the king's life 
being put in danger. 

158. the fear, that which was especially to be feared, or perhaps 
what was generally feared. 

162. a choice hour, a picked hour, one specially fixed upon. 

164. under ... seaL The priest in the Catholic Church is bound 
by oath when receiving the confession of penitents not to reveal 
any information then entrusted to them, and here the monk 
before making his revelation binds the chaplain by that oath. 

167, 8. with demure ...ensued, with solemn manner and not 
without hesitation he confided to him this prophecy : demure 
is from O. Fr. de mursy i.e. de hons murSy of good manners, and so 
sober, staid, grave. 

174. spleen, spite ; the spleen being considered as the seat of 
strong passions, whether, as here, of malice, hatred, or merely of 
caprice, impetuosity, anger. 

175. And spoil ... soul, and in this way imperil your soul's 
welfare : your nobler soul may mean either your soul which will 
be the nobler if you do not thus give way to malice, or the 
nobler part of your nature, your soul. 

175, 6. I say ... you, I not only warn you, but from my heart 
entreat you. 

178, 9. I told... deceived, I told the duke that very possibly 
the monk's prophecy might be due to nothing else than some 
illusion the devil had cast upon him. 

180-2. until ... do, until by trusting in it he was led to form 
some design (against the king), which was likely to be the result 
of such trust. 

184. fail'd, died ; a euphemism. 

186. so rank? was his guilt of so gross and foul a nature? 
The figure is from grass, weeds, etc., growing to a great height 
and becoming offensive in smell. 

190. Sir William Blomer ** was repriuianded by the king in the 
star-chamber, for that, being his sworn servant, he had left the 



SCENE II.] NOTES. 121 

king's service for the Duke of Buckingham's. Edwards's M88," 
(Steevens). 

194. thought, 8C, that I should be committed. 

197-9. which if granted... him, and had this request been 
granted, he would, while pretending to tender his allegiance {sc. 
by approachinghis person to kneel &fore him), have stabbed him 
to the heart, ^or the ellipsis of the nominative, see Abb. § 399. 

199. A giant traitor I i.e, his treasons have swelled to gigantic 
proportions. 

200. may, is it possible T see Abb. § 307. 

201. And this ... prison, while this man is at liberty. 

202. There's something... thee, there is something more you 
are desirous of revealing ; something that is trying to force itself 
into utterance. 

204. He stretch'd him, he threw out his arms : him, reflexive. 

205. mounting, raising aloft ; cp. above, i. 1. 144. 

206. did discharge, gave vent to ; as though it were something 
with which his breast was loaded. 

207. evil used, badly treated {sc, by the king). 

209. There 's his period, there {sc. in my murder) is the furthest 
limit, the end, to which his steps are directed ; cp. B. Ill, ii. 1. 
44, "There wanteth now our brother Gloucester here To make 
the perfect period of this peace." 

210. attach'd, arrested. 

213. hy day and night, probably a form of asseveration, though 
Steevens takes it as = at all times, a sense that the phrase cer- 
tainly has in Lear, i. 3. 4. 

214. He's traitor ... height, his treason could not soar higher 
than it does. 

Scene HI. 

Stage Direction, the Lord Chamberlain, Sir Charles Somerset, 
created Earl of Worcester in 1515 ; died 1526. Lord Sands, ** or 
Sandys, was at this time Sir William Sandys, who was not 
created Baron Sandys of the Vine, near Basingstoke, till 1523. 
The chronology of this scene and the one which follows is hope- 
lessly confusea. Sir Thomas BuUen, who is mentioned in i. 4. 
92, 93, was not created Viscount Rochford till 18th of June, 1525, 
and yet the dancing scene is placed before the trial of Bucking- 
ham, which began on Monday the I3th of May, 1521. The first 
interview of Henry and Anne BuUen could not have taken place 
till after 1526, for in the description of the entertainment at 
which it is supposed to have occurred, as given in Cavendish's 



122 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [aoti. 

Life of Wolsey ... Lord Sands is represented as Lord CUamberlain, 
and he did not succeed to this office till the death of the Earl of 
Worcester in that year. For this reason the dramatist here 
makes the Lord Chamberlain and Lord Sands distinct persons " 
(Wright). 

2. mysteries, incomprehensible fashions. 

3. Thoagh ... ridiculoui, however ridiculous they may be ; the 
construction really is ' though they be so ridiculous as customs 
never were. * 

6. Imt merely, redundant. 

7. A lit ... face, some few new and violent grimaces. Wright 
well compares Lear, ii. 2. 87, ** A plague upon your epileptic 
visage ! " where the steward Oswald is contorting his face into 
horrible smiles : shrewd ones, downright villanous ones. 

8. hold *em, put them on, dress themselves in them : directly, 
without hesitation, emphatically. 

9. 10. Their very ... 80, those identical noses had belonged to 
the stately courtiers who gave advice to Pepin or Glotharius, 
such lordly arrogance did they express. Tnere were several 
Pepins and.several Glothaires, the former belonging to the Carlo- 
vingian dynasty of French kings which lasted from 752 to 987, 
the latter to the Merovingian dynasty, which preceded it, 418 to 
752. The dramatist of course means only kings of such a type, 
kings of ancient days and stately fashion. 

11. lame ones, ue, they afiPected a fashionable strut which 
made them appear as thouffh they were lame. So, in ii. H, IV. 
ii. 2. 23, the youth of Engmnd are spoken of as trying to catch 
the very trick of Hotspur's walk : ** He had no legs that prac- 
tised not his gait." 

12. That neyer ... before, who had never seen them walk before 
thev adopted this new fashion, and therefore knew that they 
could walk upright enough if they chose. 

12, 3. the Bpayin Or springhalt, two diseases of horses, pro- 
ducing lameness, the former being either an enlargement of 
the little bag, containing a mucous substance, on the inside of 
the hock at the bending, a hog-spavin ; or a distention by accumu- 
lated blood of the vein which passes over that bag, a Uood-npavin : 
the latter an aifection causing the animal to twitch up his legs 
when in motion. 

15. That, sore, ... Christendom, that clearly they must have 
exhausted every Christian fashion. 

18. clapp'd upon, suddenly stuck up upon. 

20. talk, and tailors, may perhaps be a hendiadys for talk of 
tailors. 



SCENE ra.] NOTES. 123 

21. our moxudeiirs, oar gallants who aifect French fashions. 

23. And never ... LouTre, without ever visiting the French 
-court. The Louvre was originally a prison- tower, constructed 
by Philippe Augustus in 1204. It afterwards became a library, 
and Charles VI. made it his palace about 1634. Francis I. began 
the new buildings in 1528, and these were enlarged by successive 
kings, particularly Louis XIV. Napoleon turned it into a 
museum. 

24, 5. leave those remnante... France, abandon such of the 
foolish fopperies acquired in France as they still cling to in their 
own country. The enormous size of the feathers worn in hats 
and caps was due to imitation of French fashions, though with- 
out such imitation they were large enough. Douce thinks that 
the allusion is rather to the feathers formerly worn by profes- 
sional fools in their caps. 

26,7. With all their... flreworkB. Instead of *' honourable 
points of knowledge," we come upon the bathos, *' honourable 
points of ignorance,'' knowlege on such points being ignorance in 
the eyes of the wise. In fireworks Steevens sees an allusion to 
the extraordinary fireworks which concluded the last day of the 
interview between the two kings ; the fights being the joustings 
at the tournament. 

28, 9. Ahusing... wisdom, the practice of abusing better men 
than they can ever hope to be, a practice due to their foreign- 
learnt wisdom. This is one of the things they must abandon. 

29, 30. renouncing: ... stockings, and further they must utterly 
abjure their passionate devotion to tennis, etc. With the French 
tennis was a particularly favourite game. Beaumont and 
Fletcher speak of being in France and playing tennis as almost 
synonymous : The Scornful Lady, i. 1 (where the elder Loveless 
is commanded to go to France for a year), **And after your 
whole year spent m tennis and broken speech," etc. The tall 
stockings reached high above the knee, and were there joined to 
short breeches. 

31. blister'd breeches. '* This word * blister'd ' describes with 
picturesque humour the appearance of the slashed breeches, 
covered as they were with little pufi& of satin lining which thrust 
themselves out through the slashes" (Grant White). So in 
Fletcher's Beggar's Bush, iv. 5. 45, ** That ape had paid it ... In 
his French doublet, with his blistered bullions. In a long stock tied 
up," where Dyce takes bvUions to mean '* some sort of hose or 
breeches, which were hoUed or hilled, t.e. swelled, pufiPed out." 

32. And understand, a pun, as in T. N, iii. 1. 89, ** My legs do 
better understand me, sir, than I understand what you mean by 
bidding me taste my legs " ; and a reference to their '' ignorance. 



124 KING HENJRY THE EIGHTH. [act l 

33. Or padc ... playfellows, or be off to join their companions 
in France who taught them these fashions. 

34. ' com priyilegio/ with privilege, i,e, with no one to inter- 
fere with them in their enjoyment of such fancies. 

34, 5. wear away ... at, continue to practise what is left to 
them of their dissolute habits, only to oe laughed at for their 
folly. 

38. of these ... canities, in being deprived of these dainty 
follie& 

40. A French ... fellow, in their estimation there is nothing 
like, nothing to equal, a French, etc. 

41. The devil fiddle 'em I may the devil make them dance with 
his fiddlestick ! may the devil deal with them ! 

43, 4. heaten ... play, no longer as active as I once was, not up 
to the pleasing tricks I once could play : plain-song, the simple 
melody as the fundamental part of music, in opposition to prtck- 
8<mg, or variegated music sung by note. 

45, 6. And have ... too, and be listened to for an hour, and my 
music be regarded as good music : by 'r lady, by our lady, t.e. by 
the Virgin Mary. 

47. colt's tooth, youthful spirits, gamesomeness. Cp. Mas- 
singer, The Guardian, i. 1. 144, *• The colt's tooth still in your 
mouth ! " 

48. Nor ...not. For the emphatic double negative, see Abb. 
§406. 

49. a-going, ue, on going, about to go ; see Abb. § 24. 

53. The beauty ... kingdom, the most lovely women to be found 
in the country. 

54. chnrclunan, ecclesiastic. 

56. His dews, his bounties. 

57. a black mouth, a scandalous tongue. 

58. has wherewithal, he has the means of doing so : for the 
ellipsis of the nominative, see Abb. § 400. 

60. of his way, so circumstanced as he is. 

62. so great ones, examples of such great munificence : My 
barge stays. ''The speaker is now [supposed to be] in the 
king's palace at Bridewell, from which he is proceeding by 
water to York-place (Cardinal Wolsey's house), now Whitehall^' 
(Malone). 

63. shall along. For the omission of the verb of motion, see 
Abb. § 405. 

65, 6. For I was ... comptrollers, for I and Sir Henry GuUdford 
were directed by the Cardinal to act as managers of the masque 



soENBiii.] NOTES. 125 

to be performed to-night. Sir Henry Guildford, Master of the 
Horse to Henry VIII., Standard-Bearer for England, and a K.G. 

66. I am your lordsliip's, I am at year conmiand, ready to do 
whatever you wish. 

ScaBNB IV. 

Stage Dibection. Hantboys, a kind of mnsiccd instrument ; 
from 0. F. fiatUty later hatU, high ... and F. boia ... a bush ... Thus 
the literal sense is * high wood ' ; the hautboy being a wooden 
instnmient of a high tone " (Skeat, Ety, Diet,) : state, a seat of 
dignity, a canopied chair : Anne Bullen, daughter of Sir Thomas 
Boleyn, a descendant of Edward I 

I. his grace, ac, the Cardinal. 

3. To £alr content and you, to the delight which your presence 
must surely give to all. 

4. l)evy. ** Derivation and early history unknown ... 1. The 
proper term for a company of maidens or .ladies, of roes, of 
quails, or of larks. 2. A company of any kind ; rarely , a collec- 
tion of objects "... (Murray, Eng, Diet,), 

6. As, first, good company. Theobald would read Jlrst-good, 
i,e, the best company in the land ; Hanmer, ** As first, good 
company, then good wine," etc. Dyce reads, ** As far's good," 
etc., i,e. as far as, suggested to him by HaUiwell's conjecture, 
* * As far good company. " 

II. Place, arrange in order. 

12. fireeze, be chilled by not having the company of men to 
keep you lively. 

13. Two women ... makes, here Two women placed together is 
equivalent to * the fact of two women being placed together,' and 
consequently we have makes, not maJce\ cp. T, G. iv. 5. 93, 
*' The combatants being kin Half stints their strife," %,e, the fact 
of the combatants being kin ; so. Hand, iii. 1. 182, " Whereon 
his brains still beating puts him thus From fashion of himself," 
i.e, the beating of his Drains on this puts, etc. 

14. keep 'em waking, prevent their being dull. 

18. it, the habit of talking a little wildly. 

21. kiss ...breath, kiss twenty women in no time; for the 
pleonastic yon, see Abb. § 220 : Well said, well done, bravo ! 

24, 5. For my little ... alone, leave me alone for avoiding such 

Ssnance, you may trust me not to allow thflftB ladies to be dulL 
r possibly cure may here have the sen|^Df curacy, spiritual 
charge or oversight, said jestingly. ^^ 

28. this, t.e. I drink this toast. 



126 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act i. 

30. Let me ... thanks, I should be glad to have suoh a bowl of 
wine to drink ofip in expression of my thanks. 

32. behOldixig', obliged, grateful ; the sense '* evidently origin- 
ated in an error for beholden, either from a confusion of the 
endings ... or, more probably, after beholden was shortened to 
behMe, behold, and its granmiatical character obscured ; the 
general acceptance of * beholding ' may have been due to a notion 
that it meant * looking {e,g, with respect, or dependence),' or to 
association with the idea of *holdmg of or *from a feudal 
superior * " (Murray, Eng. Diet, ). 

36. g^amester, in Anne*s mouth means frolicsome fellow, but 
Sands pretends to take it in fche special sense of gambler. 

37. if I make my play, if I am allowed to play my game in my 
own way. 

Stagb Direotiok. cliambers, small pieces of ordnance with- 
out a carriage, standing on their breech, used to fire salutes ; so 
called from a detached charge-piece in old ordnance to put into 
the breech of a gun. 

46. make, are making their way. 

52. a broken banquet, interrupted ; the tables having been 
removed : mend, improve (as by the banquet that follows), but 
with a play upon broken. 

Stage Directign. directly before, right in front. 

61. under ... conduct, being graciously introduced by you. 

69. Bliould be, is if I am not mistaken. 

75. take it, sc, the place of honour. 

76. By all ... leayes, if you will all pardon me for examining 
your appearance in order to find out him of whom I am in search. 

76, 7. ber ... Choice, I will choose out this one among you for 
my king. 

77. Ye have ... him. ** Holinshed says the Cardinal mistook, 
and pitched upon Sir Eklward Neville ; upon which the king 
laughed, and pulled off both his own mask and Sir Edward's 
(Steevens). 

80. unhappily, unfavourably ; putting a bad construction upon 
such wild revelry. 

81. pleasant, facetious, merry at my expense. 

84. The Viscount Rochford. See note on stage direction at 
opening of Scene UI. 

86. to take you out, to ask you to dance, to lead you forth to 
where the dancing is going on. 



SCENE ivj NOTESL 127 

87. And not ... you, without giving you the usual kiss. A kiss 
was formerly the recognized fee of a lady's partner at the end of 
a dance. 

89. banquet, here supper, but sometimes used for dessert. 

94. your ladles, i.e, those that had been their partners in the 
dance. 

97. a measure was a grave and stately dance with slow 
measured steps, ''full of state and ancientry" {M, A. ii. 1. 80), 
and something like the later minuet, but the word is sometimes 
used to express a dance in generaL 

99. knock It, strike up : It, used indefinitely ; see Abb. § 226. 



Act II. Scene L 

2. the hall, ac. Westminster Hall, where- Buckingham's trial 
began on Monday, May 13th, 1521. 

8. upon't, as the consequence of the verdict. 

11. in a little, in few words. 

13, 4. alleged ...law, brought forward in his defence many 
clever arguments to rebut the accusations and so to disappoint 
the law of its pre^r, escape the clutches of the law ; cp. ^. V. 
iv. 1. 175, ** Now, if these men have defeated the law and outrun 
native punishment, though they can outstrip men, they have no 
wings to fly from God." 

15. The king's attorney ''at this time was John Fitz- James 
who was appointed 26 Jan., 1519. He became Chief Baron of the 
Exchequer 8 Feb., 1522, and Chief Justice of the King's Bench 
23 Jan., 1626 (Foss, Judges of England, v. 96, 98, 100) " (Wright). 

16. Urged on, pressed against with all possible force. 

19. At which, whereupon, upon his*making this demand, 

23. That fed ... prophecies, see above, i. 2. 149, 50. 

24. which, «c. accusations, implied in accused. 

28. learnedly, " like a counsel ' learned in the law,' not merely 
skilfully like a practised orator " (Wright). 

28, 9. hut all ... forgotten, but whatever he might say, it only 
elicited a feeling of pity in those who heard him or was passed 
over unheeded. 

33. he sweat extremely, a circumstance mentioned by Holin- 
shed ; on -ed omitted in the past indicative of verbs endmg in -t, 
see Abb. § 341. 

35. fell ... again, recovered his self-possession. 



128 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [actii. 

40. iB the end of tbls, is at the bottom of all this. 

41. Kildare's attainder. Gerald Fitz-Gerald, Earl of Kildare, 
was recalled from Ireland, of which he was Deputy, in 1520, and 
the Earl of Surrey sent over in his place, on the suggestion, it 
was believed, of dardinal Wolsey. 

42. who removed, for the participle used with a nominative 
absolute, see Abb. § 376. 

44. his father, ».e. his father-in-law, Surrey having married as 
his second wife Buckingham's daughter, Katherine Stafford: 
That trick of state, that stroke of poficy, 

45. enviouB, malicious. 

46. requite it, pay him out for it ; cry quits with him. 
48. will find employment, 8c. for ; see Abb. § 201. 

60. perniciously, with a bitter hatred. 

Staob DiBEcnoN.' tipstaves, bailiffs : with the edge towards 
him, as was the custom when the prisoner had been condemned 
to death : Sir Nicholas Vanx, knighted for his conduct at the 
battle of Stoke, and by Henry vUI. created Lord Vaux of 
Harrowden in 1524. 

57. lose me, dismiss me from your thoughts. 

59-61. yet, heaven ... flEdthftil, yet, if I am not a loyal subject, 
let heaven bear witness against me, and mv conscience, if I have 
one, sink me to perdition at the moment of my death. 

63. upon the premises, supposing the evidence against me to be 
true. 

64. more ChristianB, more Christian-like. 

66. lodk, be careful. 

67. their evils. ''Steevens observes, *EvU8 in the present 
instance [as Dr. Grey has remarked], undoubtedly stands iovforicae 
[latrines] ' ; and Henley, * The desecration of edifices devoted to 
religion, by converting them to the most abject purposes of 
nature, was an eastern method of expressing contempt. See 
2 Kings, x. 27 ' " (Dyce, Olosa.). The word is used in tne same 
sense in M, M» ii. 2. 172. 

68. For then ...'em. Cp. Genesis, iv. 10, "The voice of thy 
brother's blood crieth unto me from the ground," said to God by 
Cain after he had slain AbeL 

70. have, though it should be that the king has ; the subjimctive 
indicating more doubt than hcLS, 

71. More than . . . faults, more in number than the faults I dare 
to commit ; but dare, which occurs in the next line, is suspicious. 



scBNB I.] NOTES. 129 

and DeliuB conjectures could, or durst ; Vaughan, *ld e'er ; and 
Wordsworth, can, 

74. Is only . . . dying, makes to him the sole bitterness of death. 

76. the Umg dlYorce of steel, the eternal separation of body and 
soul made by the axe. 

77, 8. Make ... heaven, offer up the sweet incense of your 
'prskjers and let it waft my soul to heaven ; an allusion to the 
Jewish burning of incense on the altar : o' Ck>d'8 name, on, i.e, in, 
God's name. 

79. for cbarity, out of kindly feeling. 

SI. fkttnkly, without reservation. 

82. free, freely, frankly. 

83. would be, desire to be. 

84. 5. Tbere cannot ... with, the offences against me cannot be 
so numberless as to be beyond my forgiveness : envy, hatred. 

86. Crommend ... grace, give my good wishes to the Cardinal. 

89. fozsake, 8C. my body ; not elsewhere in Shakespeare in this 
absolute sense. 

91. telL count 

93. And when .. end, and when in the fulness of years he shall 
pass away. 

97. undertakes you, has charge of you. 

101. my state ... me, to treat me with the state to which I have 
hitherto been accustomed would be a mockery. 

103. Edward Bohun. Though Buckingham was descended 
from the de Bohuns, his family name was Stafford, not Bohun. 
The mistake here is due to HoUnshed. 

105, 6. I now seal ... for 't, I now seal my truth, i,e. my loyalty, 
with my blood, and that blood thus unjustly shed shall one day 
make my accusers rue their deed. 

108. head, an armed force ; as very frequently in Shakespeare. 

110. distress'd, in the greatest peril. 

114. out of ruins, out of my ruined state building me up anew. 

119. needs, of necessity ; it would not be just of him not to 
admit that ; the old genitive used adverbially, as in whiles, twice 
{twies), etc. 

124. has ... all, has some good purpose in allowing such things. 

127. loose, too liberal, unrestrained; cp. Oth. iii. 3. 416, 
"There are a kind of men so loose of soul. That in their sleeps will 
mutter their affairs. 

I 



130 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act ii. 

129. rub, check, obstacle ; a technical term in the game of bowls 
when the bowl was diverted from its course by any impediment ; 
cp. K. J, iii. 4. 128, " For even the breath of what I mean to 
speak Shall blow each dust, each straw, each little ru6. Out of the 
path " : B, II, iii. 4. 4, " Twill make me think the world is full 
of rubs,** 

190, 1. neyer found... ye, and never show themselves again 
except when the opportunity comes of ruining you ; on the use of 
pou and ye in Shakespeare, see Abb. § 236. 

133. Of my ... life. Wright points out that the Duke was only 
forty-three years old wheil executed. 

140-2. yet I can fflve ... this, yet I can give you a hint of a 
calamity now threatening us, which if it really falls will be a 
greater one than the Duke's death. - 

143. fi&ith, good faith, trustworthiness. 

144, 5. 'twill require... it, it will put a ^reat strain upon a 
man's good faith not to reveal it ; will try his powers of keeping 
a secret to the utmost, so great will be the temptation to tell it 
to others : have it, be entrusted with it. 

146. I do ... muoh, I am not a mere chatterer, babbler. 

146, 7. I am . . . sir, I am sure of your discretion ; and therefore 
I wiU confide the secret to you. 

148. A buziliig, a rumour. 

149. it held not, it was soon dissipated, was but of a short life. 

162. allay, put a curb upon, mitigate the chattering of. 

. 156, 6. and held... it, and it is confidently believed that the 
king will run the risk which such a proceeding wfil invite : for 
the ellipsis, see Abb. § 382. 

157. some ... near, some closely allied to him and deep in his 
confidence. 

. 168. poBsess'd him ... soraple, filled his mind full of a doubt, 
suggested a doubt which has taken complete possession of his 
mind; cp. K, J. iy. 2. 145, "I find the people strangely 
fantasied ; Possessed with rumours, full of idle dreams." 

159. to confirm this too, and in support of what I say. 

161. Tis the cardinal, 8C, who is at bottom of all this. 

164. The archbishopric of Toledo. '* The richest see in Europe, 
regarded as a stepping-stone to the Papacy " (Rolfe). 

168. too open, in too public a place, too liable to be overheard. 

169. think, deliberate 



SCENE n.] NOTES. 131 



Scene n. 

1, 2. wltb all ... liad, with my utmost care. 

2. ftimislied, equipped ; «c. with harness, trappings, etc 

4, 5. a man, a servant. 

5, 1^ commission ... power, commissioned by him to do so, and 
using main force. 

6, 7. His master ...king, his master, he said, must have his 
needs supplied before a subject at all events, if not before the 
king : would implies the cardinal's determination, will, and the 
servant hints that, if need were, his master would hardly hesitate 
to tr^at the kmg in the same way with the Lord Chamberlain. 

11. Well met, I a^i glad to see you ; good day to you. 

13. private, in privacy, all alone. 

16. Has crept ... conscience, has found its way to his conscience 
and touched it acutely. In Suffolk's answer conscience is used 
with irony. 

18. tbe king-cardinal, this fellow who is called cardinal, but 
who is in reality king. Possibly there is a play upon the word 
cardinal in the sense of that on which everything hinges; 
another play upon the word occurs in iii 1. 103. 

19. That Uind priest. Here again there is a play upon the 
word Uind in allusion to Fortune who ** is painted blmd, with a 
muffler before her eyes, to signify to you that Fortune is blind," 
H. V. iii. 6. 33, 4. 

20. Turns what he list, turns matters in any waj he may 
choose ; with an allusion to Fortune's wheel : list, subjunctive. 

21. Fray Ood he do I God grant that he may do so, «c. know 
him. 

22. holily, of course ironical. 

24. the queen's great nephew. *' Charles was Katharine's 
nephew, being the son of her sister Joanna " (Wright). 

28. to restore the king, to bring the king again to that peace 
of mind which was his before he began to have doubts as to the 
legality of his marriage. 

37. These news. Shakespeare uses news both as a singular and 
as a pluraL 

39, 40. see this main . . . sister, are convinced that the one object 
in view is that the king may be free to marry the French king's 
sister. 

41, 2. that so long ... man, have so long been wilfully blind to 
the real character of this bold bad man. 



132 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act il* 

43. had need pray, we should do well to pray : had is here 
conditional, and there is an ellipsis of to. 

48. Into ... please, to such a height of dignity or such a depth 
of abasement as he may choose ; but pitch in connection with 
lump is suspicious, and Theobald conjectures batch as though the 
figure were from baking : please, subjunctive. 

50. As I ... him, as I owe nothing of my position to him, 

52. they 're breath ... in, perhaps an allusion to PacUms, xzxiLi. 
6, "By the word of the Lord were the heavens made ; and all 
the host of them by the breath of his mouth " ; or to Job, xxxiii. 
4, " the breath of the Almighty hath made me " ; for the omission 
of do before not, see Abb. § 305. 

59. Yon 11 find ... him, you'll find this a most, eta 

Stage Dibection. draws the curtain. '* When a person was 
to be discovered in a difierent apartment from that in which the 
original speakers in the scene are exhibited, the artless mode of 
our author's time was to place such person in the back part of the 
stage, behind the curtains, which were occasionally auspended 
across it. These the person who was to be discovered (as Menry, 
in the present case), drew back just at the proper time " ... 
(Malone). 

67. Malice ne'w meant, when no evil purpose was intended ; 
when, as in our case, the offence was from inadvertence. 

68. estate, state ; as often in Shakespeare. 

70. Ck> to, an expression sometimes, as here, of rebuke, some* 
times of encouragement. 

^TAOB Direction. Oampelos, or Oampeggio, Laurence, ''a 
native of Bologna, was Professor of Law in the famous University 
of Padua, Bishop of Feltrio in 1512, a Cardinal in 1517, and 
appointed Bishop of Salisbury in 1524. Being sent as papal 
legate to England, he was named co-adjutor to Wolsey to try the 
case of divorce between Henry VIII. and Queen Katherine. The 
trial began May 31, 1529, and lasted to July 23, 1530, when the 
court was prorogued by Campeius"... (French, STiahespeareana 
Oenealogiea) : a commission, 9C from the Pope. 

76, 7. My ffood ... talker, see to it that *' my professions of wel- 
come be not found empty talk " (Johnson). 

80. no pride, said ironically and equivalent to ' a great deal ' ; 
cp. T. S. i. 2. 138, " Here's no knavery V* i \ H. IV, v. 3. 33, 
*• here's no vanity I " 

81. so sick, of his disease, se, pride : for his place, even to get 
the position he holds. 

83. one have-at-him, one stroke, blow, at him ; have ai him, 
you, etc., is an elliptical phrase common in the dramatists and 



soBNBii] NOTE& 133 

meaning Let me, ns, etc. , attack him, you, etc. ; a sort of wam^ 
ing like the En garde / of fencers. 

85. fireely, without reservation. 

88. The Spaniard, the Spanish people, as is shown by tli«y in 
the next line. 

90. the (derks, the clergy. 

92. Have their ftee Yoices, if this is the ^nuine reading must 
mean * are at liberty to express their opinion freely * ; but it is 
not easy to see how in any case they should not have had this 
liberty, or why only the learried clerks (which is emphasized) 
should have this liberty. Malone would understand the word 
sent, from the next line. More plausibly Grant White reads 
gave, for *' we know that nearly all the learned clerks in Christian 
kingdoms gave * their free voices' for Henry's divorce (the 
decisions of eight continental faculties of law and divinity to that 
effect are given in Hall's Chronicle) ; and therefore Wolsey may 
well say, *Who can be angry now?*" The objection to this 
reading is that we should expect * Have given * : the nurse of 
Judgement, who suckles, rears up, sound judgment ; a Latinism. 

94. One general ... man, this good man, the mouthpiece of the 
priesthood at large. 

98. the holy conclaye, the college of cardinals. 

99. such a man L On the ellipsis of cm, see Abb. § 281. 

103. The court ... commanding, at the bidding of the papal 
court. 

105. nnpartlal, impartial ; see Abb. § 442. 

106. equal, just. 

107. Oardiner, Stephen, was sent by Henry to Borne to obtain 
the Pope's consent to the divorce, and on his return in 1527 was 
made Secretary. He became Bishop of Winchester in 1531, in 
Edward the Sixth's reign was sent to prison as an enemy to the 
Reformed faith, but was released by Mary, and in 1533 was by 
her appointed Lord Chancellor. He died in 1555. 

109. 8o dear ... that, with such heartfelt affection as not, etc. 

110. of less place, of lower rank. 

111. Scholars, men learned in controversial matters of the 
kind. 

113. does best, shows the greatest skill in argument. 

115. a fit fellow, a fellow convenient to my purposes. 

117. Ton are ...now, yon belong to the king now, are his 
servant not mine. 

120. Dr. Pace " was Vicar of Stepney, and died there at the 
age of about forty, in the year 1532, if the inscription on his 



134 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH [acjt ii. 

monument, which is given by Weaver, .. but which has long 
since disappeared, is to be trusted. He sucoeeded Colet as Dean 
of St. Paulas in 1619 " (Wright). 

126. itt6k, hesitate. 

127. Kept ... ttUl, kept him employed in missions out of the 
country. 

129. Tliat '8 . . . enoogb, you can't expect of me greater Christian 
charity than to wish him that. 

190. There 'a ... rebnlEe, I shall find means of punishing them ; 
on the inflexion in -» preceding a plural noun, see Abb. § 336. 

131, 2. that good feUow ... appointment, he, Gardiner, readily 
obeys my instructions if I think fit to give him any ; good fellow 
is said with contemptuous good nature. 

133. I will... else, I will not allow anyone to be on such 
intimate terms unless he is prepared so to follow my directions. 

134. We live ... persons, I do not allow intimacy with men of 
low rank. 

136. Deliver ... queen, inform the queen with all respect of 
what I have said to you. See stage direction to 1. 121. 

137. For Bnoh . . . learning, for hearing such learned disputations, 
9C, upon the (question of divorce ; on transpositions in noun- 
claused containing two nouns connected by qfj see Abb. § 423. 

139. ftunish'd, got ready for the debate. 

141. bedfellow, wife ; of course this is said with hypocrisy. 



Scene III. 

1. Not for that neither. Anne and the old Lady enter con- 
tinuing a conversation in which we may suppose they have 
discussed the question why Katharine feels so oitterly on her 
divorce. 

6. coimes of the sun, years ; cp. 0th, iii. 3. 71, ''A sibyl, that 
had number'd in the world The sun to course two hundred 
compasses.'* 

7. In a majesty and pomp, in a state of majesty, etc. : the 
which, see Abb. § 270. 

8. To leave *■, to leave'is : I have followed Dyce in inserting '« ; 
for though the ellipsis of m is frequent in Shakespeare it seems 
very improbable here. According to Dyce the folio has a comma 
after leave which may easily be a misprint for '«. 

9. process, continued course of life. 



80KNB III.] NOTES. 135 

10. To giYB ... avannt, contemptuously to bid her stand out of 
his path, i.e, tarn her away ; a somewhat similiar expression is 
* to give one the go-by y* i.e. to outstrip one. 

11. a mon8t«r, one who had no feelings of humanity. 

13. tbougb *t be temporal, though it be a thing that must pass 
away sooner or later. 

14. that quarrel, fortane. Warburton explained quarrel as an 
arrow to which Fortune is likened from her striking so deep and 
suddenly. This explanation is in a measure supported by ." the 
slings and arrows of outrageous /or^uTie,'* Hand, iii 1. 58 ; '* Your 
shafts of fortune" Per. iii. 3. 6 ; the **dart of chance," 0th, iv. 1. 
278 (all quoted by Clarke), and perhaps, as Dyce suggests, ** by 
an earlier passage of the play where mention is made of the 
divorce occasioned by the cure, * And, as the long divorce of steel 
falls on me' [ii. 1. 76]." Staunton calls such an explanation 
" portentous," Grant White " almost puerile," yet many modem 
editors adopt it. Others take quarrel as the abstract for the 
concrete ; Steevens conjectured "fortune to," taking ** fortune " 
as a verb;. Collier, ** crttel fortune"; Lettsom, **fortune*« 
quarrel " ; Staunton, " that squirrely fortune," ** squirrel " being 
used of old for a loose woman ; Kinuear, " queasy fortune." 

15. 6. 'tis a sufferance ... severing, it is an agony as great as 
that of the parting of body and soul ; cp. A. G. iv. 13. 5, 6, 
" The soul and body rive not more in parting Than greatness 
going off": for panging = causing a pang, cp. Cymb, iiL 4. 98, 
** how thy memory will then be panged by me," For the ellipsis 
in soul and body's, see Abb. § 397. 

17. a stranger, an alien. 

20. range with, be on a level with, rank with. 

21. perk'd up, perched up : a glistering grief, the splendour 
of the throne which brings with it so much grief. 

22. a golden sorrow, a crown which is as often as not a crown 
of thorns. 

23. baying, possession; cp. M, W. iii. 2. 73, "the gentleman 
is of no having " ; and below, iii 2. 159 : maidenhead, maiden- 
hood, virginity. 

24. Besbrew me, I would, curses on me if I would not. 

26. For all ... bsrpocrisy, in spite of this smack of hypocrisy 
you now manifest. 

28. ever, always. 

29. Affected, was fond of, coveted. 
90. to say sooth, to tell the truth. 

81. Saying yonr mlndng, in spite of your affectation. 



136 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act il 

31-3. the capacity... It, vour elastic conBcience would find 
itself capable of receiving, if only you should make trial of its 
powers ; cbeyerll, here used as an adjective, is kid leather ; cp. 
Ji. J, ii. 4. 87, " O, here 's a wit of cfieveril, that stretches from 
an inch narrow to an ell broad " ; and Dekker's Old FortuncUus, 
1600, "as if the iDnocencj of those leather prisons should dispense 
with the cheveril consctences of the iron-hearted jailers. The 
word is from 0. F. chevreUt diminutive of ehevre^ from Lat. 
copm, a she-goat. 

34. troth, and troth, assuredly. 

36. a three-pence fww'd, a bent three-penny bit. Fairholt, 
who sees here an allusion to the old custom of ratifying an 
agreement by a bent coin, points out that three-pences were not 
known in Emgland till the close of the reign of Edward VI. 
Perhaps by a how'd three-pence we should rather understand one 
that was worthless in point of currency : hire, a dissyllable. 

37. queen it, play the part of queen ; for the indefinite it, see 
Abb. § 226. 

38. 9. limbs TO hear, limbs strong enough to bear. 

40, 1. What were't ... conference? How much should I give 
you to be told the secret of which you are gossiping ? So we 
say, ** A penny for your thoughts ! " 

42. Not yonr demand ... asking, our secret is not worth even 
your question; demand, as frequently in Shakespeare, means 
nothing more than '* question," and the second half of the line 
hero is but a 'repetition of the first ; for values not, = is not 
worth, cp. i. 1. 88. 

48-50. That 3roa may ... virtues, in proof of the fact that I 
mean what I say and that your many excellences have been 
richly appreciated. 

51. Ctommends ... you, conveys through me an expression of his 
good opinion. 

52. no less flowin^r, no less abundant, in measure nothing less, 
than the title of Marchioness of Pembroke. 

56. What kind ... tender, in what shape I should make pro- 
fession of my loyalty ; tender, offer ; Fr. tendrCf to hold out. 

57. More ... nothing, all that I can offer, and more than all I 
can offer, is as nothing. 

57, 8. nor my prayers .. hallow'd, even my pravers are not 
holy enough to express my gratitude. For the double negative, 
see Abb. § 406. 

60. Beseedi, I beseech; so often "pray" for "I pray," 
** prythee " for ** I pray thee." 

63. royalty, kingly dignity. 



scBNuiii.] NOTES. 137 

64. I Bball not ...conceit, I shall not when reporting your 
answer to the king fail to confirm the high opinion, etc. : conceit, 
literally, what is conceived, conception ; the bad sense the word 
now commonly has when meaning a man's conception of his own 
merits being due to the fact that tnat conception is iisually higher 
than it should be. 

67. caught, as in a net, trammelled, fascinated. 

68, 9. But from ... isle ? A prophecy of the birth of Elizabeth. 
** Perhaps [certainly] " says Johnson, alluding to the carbuncle, 

a gem supposed to have intrinsic light, and to shine in the dark : 
** any other gem may reflect light, but cannot give it. " Steevens 
compares T, A, ii. 3. 227, ''A precious ring that lightens all 
the hole." 

71. this it is, this is how matters stand with me. 

74. Crome pat ... late, could manage to come just at the right 
moment. 

76. A very .. here, who have only just now begun to swim in 
these waters. 

77. compeU'd fortune, good fortune forced upon you. 

79. forty pence, t.6. I wager forty pence; Steevens quotes 
from old writers several instances of this as a proverbial expres- 
sion for a small wager. '* Forty" was also often used for an 
indefinite number. 

82. For all ...Egypt, t.e. for all the wealth of Egypt, the 
fertility of the country being due to the mud or ooze of the Nile 
overflowing the land. 

S3, pleasant, facetious. 

83, 4. With your theme ... lark, if I had the same subject for 
my pleasant thoughts that you have, viz., the Marchioness-ship 
of Pembroke, I could soar above the lark in the expression of 
my joy. 

86. No other obligation I the king's '* pure respect '* being the 
only consideration that compelled him to ofler you this honour ! 
Of course the old lady means to insinuate that the king's reasons 
were of a far more selfish nature. 

87. moe, or mo, according to Skeat, was in early times used 
only of number, more of size. 

89. hear a duchess, bear the weighty honour of being a 
duchess. 

91, 2, Kake ... on % jest upon any subject that is congenial to 
your fancy so long as you do not make me the subject of your 
witticisms. 

93. salute my Uood, cause my cheeks to glow, cause the blood 
to bound within my veins, with any sense of exultation. The 



138 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act ii. 

word Balnte being from the Lat. scUtis, health, the idea is that of 
a healthy exhilaration being given to the blood. Walker com- 
pares Sdnn. cxxi. 6, '*For why should others' false-adulterate 
eyes Give acUtUcUion to my sportive Uood ? *' : it faints me, it 
causes me to feel faint, to have a sinking at the heart. 

96. In our lon^: alMMnce, in being so long absent from attendance 
upon her. 

ScacNB IV. 

Stage Dibection. sennet, a particular set of notes on a 
trumpet : Scribes, writers to take down the proceedings : Arch- 
bishop of Canterbury, Dr. William Warham, Bishop of London 
in 1502, appointed to the primacy in 1504, died 1532 : Lincoln, 
Dr. John Xongland, b. 1476, canon of Windsor 1519, bishop of 
Lincoln 1528-1547, the date of his death: Ely, Ihr. Nicholas 
West, 1513-1533 : Bocliester, Dr. John Fisher, 1509-1535 : St. 
Asaph, Dr. Henry Standish, 1518-1535 (French, 8, 0,)i with 
some small distance, se& Abb. § 194 : silver pillars, "some of 
the ensigns of dignity carried before cardinals'* ... (Johnson) : 
a consistery primarily a council-chamber ; then, as here, a court 
for ecclesiastical causes. 

1. our commission, the commission appointing us to try the 
case. 

13, 4. Sir, I desire ... on me. For the omission and subsequent 
insertion of to, see Abb. § 250. 

17. indifferent, impartial. 

18. equal firiendship and proceeding, goodwill and justice in 
the decision of the case. 

21. put me off, divorce me. 

22. good grace, affection as shown in acts. 

26. subject ... countenance, obedient to your looks, fashioning 
my looks in conformity with yours. 

30. strove. On the curtailed forms of participles, see Abb. 
§343. 

31. were. On this word used in dependent sentences after the 
verb to hnow^ see Abb. § 301. 

32. That had ... anger, who had drawn your anger upon him ; 
from Lat. derivare, to drain, draw off water. Cp. A, W. v, 3. 
265, " things which would derive me ill will to speak of." 

33. nay, fi^ve notice, nay, did not give notice ; Johnson would 
insert not ^fore notice, but that word may be supplied from 
1. 30. Steevens conjectures " nor gave notice." 



SCENE IV.] NOTES. 139 

35. in tills olMdienoe, with this complete obedience of which I 
have just spoken. 

37-41. if, in the course ... person, if during all those long years 
you can report .anything done contrary to my honour, to the 
pledges I made when marryine you, to my love and duty, or 
anything hostile to your sacred person, and substantiate such 
charge. 

42, 3. let the foulest ... me, let me be driven forth loaded with 
the foulest terms of disgrace. For the omission of the definite 
article before door, see Abb. § 82. 

45. was reputed for, had the reputation of being. 

47, wit, intelligence. 

48, 9. one The wisest, the wisest above all ; cp. Cymb, i. 6. 
164, '* he is one The trtiest mannered"; and below, L 153, *' one 
the least word." 

49, 50. by many .. before, that has reigned for many preceding 
years. We should not now express superiority or inferiority bv 
Yay unless two- things or peittons of the same kind were comparea, 
since by originally means near. Thus we might say, ' He is the 
wisest man oy many,' «.e. he is the wisest man other men being 
near« or * this is the brightest day we have had by many,* t.e. the 
brightest day, many others being put in comparison with it. 

58. And of your choice, and those of your own choosing. 
These were the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishops of Ely, 
Rochester, St. Asaph, and others. 

62. That you ... court, if the reading is eenuine, must mean, 
* desire a more distant trial,* *pray for a longer day.* Dyce, 
who ridicules such a meaning, reads, with the fourth folio, defer, 
but that expression would also be an unusual one, and Elatharine 
could hardly of her own will put off the day. 

63, 4. to rectifjr ... king, to quiet the scruples felt by the king. 

70. I am ... weep, I am, or rather I was, about to weep. 

71. certain, certainly. 

76. potent drcumstanoes, t.e. circumstances that powerfully 
affected his own interests. 

77, 8. make ...Judge, assert my legal claim not to be judged 
by yon ; challenge, a legal phrase still retained in challenging 
jurors. 

79. Have blown ... me, have done your best to fan the fire of 
this dispute between, etc, 

80. dew, dc, of mercy. 

81. 2. I utterly ... Reftise. *< These are not mere words of 
passion, but technical terms in the canon law. Detestor and 
Reeuso, The former, in the huiguage of canonists, signifies no 



140 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act ii. 

more than — ^I protest against *' (Blackstone). The words, how- 
ever, are from Holinshed. 

^ 86. Have stood to charit7» have taken your stand by, have 
sided with, been firm in the cause of ; cp. Cor. iiL 1. 208, " Or 
let us stand to our authority Or let us lose it." 

90. For you, to apply to you, to use against you. 

92. the consistory, here the ecclesiastical senate in which the 
Pope, presiding over the whole body of cardinals, deliberates 
upon the affairs of the church. 

96. That I ... deed, that I deny what I have really done ; to 
e^ainsay is to speak against, from A.S. gegn, against, and E. say, 

96, 7. how may he ... falsehood 1 how easily and how well may 
he expose my falsehood and injure my character ! 

98-100. If he know... wrong, if it be that he knows I do not 
come within the scope of your report, he consequently knows 
that I do come within the scope of your wrong, t.e. that I have 
good reason to complain of being calumniated. 

102. Bemove ... you, sc, by showing that there is no truth in 
your assertions. 

102-5. the which ... more, but before he shall speak upon this 
point, I beg of you to reconsider what you have said, and for the 
future not to repeat such charges. 

108, 9. You sign... humility, you proclaim your holy calling 
by an ostentation of meekness ana humility. Meekness and 
humility are the outward and visible mask, but beneath that 
mask is a msuss of arrogance, etc. 

112. Gone sUg^htly o'er, easily and rapidly surmounted. 

113-5. Where powers ... office, where the powers you have 
acquired are the vassals of your pleasure, and your words, 
humble servants to your will, perform what duty you may set 
them. She seems to be referring specially to his ''cunning" in 
argument, and in making things take any shape he pleases. 
This use of powers is perhaps supported by iii. 2. 187, below, 
*' Your brain and every function of your power." Steevens and 
others explain powers as = powerful persons, the abstract for the 
concrete, but this does away with the correspondency evidently 
intended in retainers and domestics. Tyrwhitt conjectures 
wards for words, giving the whole passage a literal sense, the 
wards being the youns noblemen and gentlemen under his 
guardianship as Chancellor. 

116. tender, hold in regard, hold dear ; from F. tendre, Lat. 
tener, tender, delicate. & HarrU. L 3. 107, 9, Polonius plavs 
upon the two senses, or in reality uses two different words of the 
same spelling, " Tetuier yourself more dearly ; Or ... you '11 tender 
me a fool." See note on ii. 2. 104, above. 



SCENE IV.] NOTES. .^ 141 

120. Us holiness, here the title of the Pope ; bo in A. G:L 2. 
20, '* his prescience " is jestingly used as the title of a soothsayer. 

122. apt to aecase, given to accusing. Something more than 
the mere tendency seems here implied. 

128. keep yonr way, keep on your way, do not pause or loiter. 

130. patience, endurance. 

. 133. tliy wasrs, here wasrs is the old genitive, used adverbially, 
of i.e. on your way. Cp. needs, etc. 

138. government, self-control ; cp. iii. II. VI. i. 4. 132, <* 'Tis 
government that makes them [women] seem divine. " 

139. Obeying in commanding, obeying the dictates of self- 
restraint even when giving commands. 

.139, 40. thy parts ... else, your other supremely excellent and 
pious gifts ; parts, those qualities apportioned to a person by 
nature : could ... out, could fully show what you really are ; so 
in M. A. ilL 2. 112, ** to paint out her wickedness,'' ana in Cor, 
iv. 5. 127, ** thou hast .beat me out Twelve several times," there 
is the same idea of thoroughness, completeness. 

143. Carried herseU; behaved. 

144. I require yonr highness, I ask of your highness ; require^ 
like demand, wa& of old used in a much less imperative sense 
than at present. 

145. 6. in hearing .. . ears. For omission of the definite article, 
see Abb. § 90. 

146-8. for where ... satisfted, / my in the hearing of ail present, 
for in no other place than that in which I was robbed and 
bound must I be set free, even though the complete satisfaction 
of my wrongs be not there tendered. In robb'd and hound Wol- 
sey is using Biblical language to express the injury done to him 
by the queen, full satisfaction for which he hints will not be 
given even by the king's disavowal of her charges. 

150. Laid ...way. Here there is an allusion to the literal 
sense of scrapie^ which is that of a small stone getting into one's 
shoe. 

151. Induce 3ron ... on't, lead you to the debating of it. 

152. 3. snch ... lady, a lady so worthy of her royal rank. 

153. one the least word, even so much as a single word of the 
slightest kind ; cp. above, 11. 48, 9, '' one The wisest prince." 

155. Or touch ... person, or injurious comment on her as a 
woman. 

162, 3. But Will yon ... business, but if you desire further justi- 
fication thou this, I will further add that you always wished 
that this matter should be allowed to rest. 



142 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act n. 

165. The iMUi8aire8...1t, the approaches made towarda it, 
everything that at all led up to its being entered upon. 

166. I speak ... point, thus far I describe him as he is ; so 
below, iii. 1. 126, ** let me speak myself," and iv. 2. 32, ** Yet 
thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak him," 

167. what moyed me, in regard to what influenced me. 

168. I will be . . . attention, I will venture to ask your attention, 
even though I shall have to speak at some length. 

172. the Bishop of Bayoxme. ''Not Jean du Bellay, Bishop 
of Bayonne, but Grammont, Bishop of Tarbes. The error was 
made by Cavendish, and copied by Holinshed" ...(Wright). 

173. on the debating, for the purpose of discussing ; on the 
preceding a verbal that is followed by an object, see Abb. § 93. 

176. Ere, here a preposition. 

178. advertise, authoritatively inform ; accented on the second 
syllable, as always in Shakespeare. 

180. Respecting, taking into consideration. 

181. Sometimes and sometime are used indifferently by Shake- 
speare in the sense of formerly, 

181, 2. This respite ...conscienoe, the delay during which he 
occupied himself in determining this point, shook my conscience 
to its very depths, sc, with doubts as to whether he had not been 
living in adultery. In the passage of Holinshed, from which 
this IS taken, we have " Which words, once conceived within 
the secret bottom of my conscience," etc. Theobald therefore 
adopted Thirlby's conjecture bottom, and is followed by Dyce. 

184-6. which forced ... caution, which opened the door to many 
other bewildered thoughts that in company with this doubt 
forcibly made their way into my conscience. 

189-91. Bhoiild ... dead, should be but as a living tomb to 
them. 

193. had air'd them, literally, had exposed them to the air, i,e. 
since they had come into the world. 

196. Be gladded in't by me, be gladdened by me in the 
matter of an heir. 

199. hulling, tossed about first in one direction and then in 
another by my stormy reflections. To htUl is to drive hither and 
thither when masts and sails are gone, or when the sails are all 
taken in during a calm, and the hull or body of the vessel is 
almost all that is^ seen above water ; in such circumstances no 
steering is possible. For the figurative use of the verb, cp. 
Marston, Sophonisba, i, 2. 193, ** since the billow (sc. of war) Is 
risen so high we may not htUl," 



80BNB IV.] NOTES. 143 

201, 2. whereupon ... togrether, the consideration of which is 
the purpose of our meeting here. 

203. to rectify, to clear of all scruples. 

203, 4. which I then ...well, which I then felt to be sorely 
out of health, and which even now is by no means at ease. 

208. my oppression, the scruples that troubled me : did reek, 
the idea is that of a body smoking under a weight of clothes, etc. 

209. Very well, i,e, I remember very well. 

212-7. The question ...^here, so greatly was I at first bewildered 
by the question Submitted to me, involving as it did circum- 
stances of the greatest importance, and issues terrible to contem- 
plate, that I dared not do more than give, with hesitation, the 
advice that you eObould adopt the course of action which you are 
now following in this conference. Schmidt explains consequence 
of dread as *' dreadful importance," which taken with mighty 
moment, seems tautologicat 

221, 2. But by particular ... seals, t.e. he was not contented to 
have their oral assent, but took care to have a signe4 and sealed 
expression of their views. 

228. our mortal ... come^ the remainder of our life. 

230. That's paragon'd ...world, who is by the world allowed 
to be without her equal. 

231. *tis ... fitness, it is necessary and fit. 

235. I may perceive, I can perceive ; see Abb. § 307. 

236. These cardinals ... me. Whether out of impatience at the 
delay, or for other reasons, Henry deprived Campeius of his 
English bishopric. 

238, 9. My leam'd ... return. Cranmer, as will be seen from 
iii. 2. 401, was at this time absent from court on an embassy. 

241. set on, set out on the way to the palace. 



Act III, SoBNB 1. 

Stage Dibection. The Queen's apartments, in the palace at 
Bridewell, on the site of which was afterwards founded the 
well-known prison (originally a reformatory), pulled down in 
1863-4. The whole of this Act passes in this palace. 

3. Orpheus, a mythical personage who was regarded by the 
Greeks as the most celebrated of the poets before the time of 
Homer. Among the many stories about him the one most com- 
monly received was that he was presented with the lyre by 
Apollo and instructed in its use by the Muses, that he enchanted 
with its music not only the wild beasts, but the trees and rocks 



144 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act in. 

npon Mount Olympiis, so that they moved from their places to 
follow the sound of his golden harp. 

4. fireese, from being so high np in the air. 

7. Ever, constantly : as, as though, as they would have done if 
the sun, etc See Abb. § lOTt 

11. lay 1^, ceased to swelL 

■ 13. KUling' care, that care which wears a man to death, etc. 

17. the presence, the presence chamber, the state room for 
receptions. 

22. flhoiild he, ought to be, from their profession: as righteavm, 
se. as they from their profession should be good. 

23. Bat all ... monkB, but many wear the monk's cowl without 
living the monk's life, i,e, a pious life ; an aUusion to the old 
Latin proverb, CucuUus rum facit monachum, it is not the cowl 
that makes the monk. 

24. part of a honsewlfe, engaged iii some of the duties of the 
mistress of a household. Cavendish says she entered '* having a 
skein of red silke about her neck, being at work with her 
maidens." 

25. I would ..■ happen, in anticipation of the worst that may 
happen, bearing in mind that I may be cast out into the .world 
without a friend to help, I wish I were not only partly hv^.. 
wholly qualified for such duties. 

26. What are ... me, what is it that you wish to say to me? 

28, 9. we shall give ... coming, we will tell you at full length 
what it was brought us here. 

31. Deserves a comer, needs to be spoken of in secrecy. 

32. firee, innocent, guiltless. 

33. 4. 80 much ... ntunher to that extent I am happier than 
many of my sex. 

36. Envy, hatred, malice. 

37. I know ... even, so consistent in its integrity I know my 
life to have been ; for even, cp. /. (7. ii 1. 133, ** The even virtue 
of our enterprise.** 

37, 8. If your boslnese ... in, if the business on which you come 
bid you inquire into matters connected with my behaviour as a 
wife. Rowe gave taise for wife, i,e. matters in which I have 
knowledge ; but certainly not with any improvement in sense. 

41, 1. Tanta...8ereni8sima, so great, most mighty queen, is 
jour loyalty of purpose towards you. 

43. truant, 8€. in the study of English. 

44. the language ... in, the Icmguage I have spoken for so many 
years of my life. 



soENBi.] NOTES. 146 

45. A strange ... snsplcious, to use a strange ({.e. foreign) 
language will only give my cause an air of mystery and suspicion 
which it need not have. She is anxious that her women should 
not suppose that there was some charge against her which would 
not bear to be spoken in English. Pyce and Abbott read 
'* strange-suspicious," the latter remarking that there are some 
passages, this being among them, which are only fully intelligible 
when this combination is remembered." 

49, 50. The wilUng'st ... English, no sin of mine, even the 
most besetting, is so heinous that absolution of it may not be 
given in the English language. 

51-3. I am sorry ^. me%t, I am sorry that my sincerity of 
purpose, and my loyal service alike to his majesty and to you, 
should give birth to such suspicion, where all was intended in 
good faith. There seems no necessity to transpose 11. 52, 3, as 
Edwards suggested. Grant White remarks that * ' integrity cannot 
alone breed suspicion; it must be joined with misunderstood 
service to produce such an effect"; but this is perhaps hyper- 
criticism. 

58. How ... minded, what your sentiments, feelings, are. 

60. free, unbiased. 

63. still bore, always bore and still bears. 

64. censure, expressed opinion. 

65. whieh ... £Eur, which went farther in its unfavourable char- 
acter than it should. 

71. so near mine honour, so closely affecting my honour. 

72. wit, intelligence, judgment. 

74. was set, was sitting ; as often in Shakespeare. 

77. For her...1)een, for the sake of what I once was, viz., 
a queen. 

77, 8. for I feel ... greatness, for I feel mv greatness passing 
from me like an ague fit that is shaken off at last, good yonr 
e^races, for the transposition, see Abb. § 13. 

82, 3. In England ... profit, if I have any friends in England, 
their friendship can be of little use to me. 

83-7. can you think... subject? Is it possible for you to 
believe that any Englishman would dare to give me advice, or, if 
he were so reckless of consequences as to be honest, would 
venture to be known as my friend, in the teeth of the king's dis- 
pleasure, and yet be allowed to live in England ? 

88. weigh out^ outweigh, counterbalance, make up for. 

89. They that ... to, they to whom I must now learn to cling. 
94, 5. 'twill he ... cause, it will be much better for, etc. 

K 



146 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act hi. 

06, 7. For if ... dlflgraoed, for if you allow trial by law to come 
upon you, you will lose your cause and as a consequence will go 
away a disgraced woman, ae, for obstinately maintaining your 
rights against the opinion of all fitted to judge in the matter. 

102. The more ... ye, " if I mistake you, it is by your fault, not 
mine ; for I thought you good '' ( Johnison). 

107. lost among' ye, an outcast among you. 

113. envy, malice, hatred ; as above, L 36, and generally in 
Shakespeare. 

117. ohurchmen's habits, mere priestly vestments ; Kolfe well 
compares H, V, IL 2. 117, ''glistering semblances of piety." 

118. my side cause, my cause that is so feeble of itself. 

119. has banished, i.e. the love of him who has banished. 
** For two years before October 1528 " (Wright). 

120. I am old. Though only in her forty-fourth year, she was 
six or seven years older than Henry, and relatively a good deal 
more. 

123,4. all your studies ...this, the result of all your en- 
deavours, schemes, is to bring upon me not the good you profess 
to ofifer (1. 113) but the bitterest misery. 

125. speak myself. See note on ii. 4. 166. 

129, 30. Have I ... king? Have I always given him the fullest 
love for love ? 

131. Been ... superstitious to him, served him with idolatrous 
devotion. 

132. to content him, in order to pleasure him. 

134. a constant ... husband. For the transposition, see Abb. 
§419a. 

136, 7. And to that ... patience, and in my own person I will 
ffive example of one who has excelled her at her best by the 
further virtue of great patience. 

140. To give up, as to give up. 

145. Te have angels* faces, an allusion, no doubt, to the old 
pun attributed to Gregory the Great, Non Angli sed Angdi. 

151, 2. like ... field. Holt White compares the Faery Queene, 
ii. 6. 16, ** The lily, lady of the flowering field." 

156. Upon what cause ? For what reason, with what object ? 

156, 7. our places ...it, our position and sacred calling are 
against our acting in such a way. 

160, 1. utterly ... carriage, completely estrange yourself from 
the king's love by behaving in this way. 

162. kiss obedience, welcome with the greatest warmth. 



80BNB I.] NOTES. 147 

166. eyen, equable, placid. 

172. lose it not, «c. the king's love, implied in the verb loves. 

176. used myself, behaved myself. 

179. do my service, express my duty; little more than a 
phrase of compliment. 

184. she should ... dear, i.e. as to stoop to beg the favour of 
any one. 

Scene IL 

Stage Direction, the Earl of Surrey. Wright points out 
that this personage was really the Duke of Norfolk, he having 
succeeded his father in 1524, eund that the appeareunce here of the 
Duke of the earlier scenes is an anachronism. 

2. And force ... constancy, and persistently press them. 

3, 4. if you omit ... time, if you let slip the opportunity that 
now presents itself; cp. Temp. ii. 1. Id4, ''Do not omit the 
heavy offer of it" ; and Bacon, Essay xxi., "For Occasion [i.e. 
Time] ... turneth a bald noddle, after she hath presented her 
locks in front, and no hold taken. " 

6. With, together with, in addition to. 

7-9. that may give ... him, that may put me in mind of my 
duty to be revenged upon the Cardinal for the death of my 
father-in-law, the Duke (of Buckingham). 

9-11. Which of the peers . . . neglected 7 Who among the peer- 
age is there whom he has failed to treat with scorn, or at least 
with strange neglect? i.e. there is not one of the peerage whom, 
etc. The negative in uncontemn'd has to be supplied with 
neglected. (^a.Cymb, iv. 2. 59, ''And let the stinking elder, 
grief, untwine rLiB {>erishinff root with the increasing vine ! ** i.e. 
let grief cecue to tvoine his destructive root with, etc. 

13. Out of himself, except in his own person. 

15, 6. What we can ... fear, how we shall be able to avenge 
our injuries upon him, even though the time is favourable to us, 
I greatly doubt ; Qives way to us, does not stand in our way, 
allow us free passage ; cp. Cor. iv. 4. 25, "if h&give me wayy I *11 
do his country service." 

20. His spell ... out, the charm of his tongue no longer works 
upon the king. 

22, 3. No, he's settled, ... displeasure, no, there's no fear of his 
being able to influence the king ; he is plunged in his (the king's) 
disgrace beyond the hope of extrication. The idea is that <n a 
morass into which a man has sunk. 



148 KING HENBY THE EIGHTH. [act iil 

26. his contrary proceedings, his actions that were so opposed 
to his words ; he, while professins eagerness to hurry on the 
divorce, doing his best to delay the Tope's decision. 

34-6. 'I do,' ... 'Bullen,' I see clearly that the king is caught by 
the fascinations of Anne Bullen, and will at once marry her 
instead of the French king's sister. The fact of his being 
fascinated by Anne would not interfere with Wolsey's projects so 
far as to make him wish to delay the Pope's judgment, if it were 
not for the result which was sure to follow. 

37. Hte the king this 7 does the king know of this ? 

38, 9. The king... way, this shows the king clearly ''how he 
creeps stealthily along his own path, like a vessel which follows 
all the windings of the coast, or like one who skulks under 
shelter of the hedgerows " (Wright). For the redundant object, 
him, see Abb. § 414. 

40. founder, perish in the waters, go to the bottom ; from F. 
fond, bottom; a continuation, as Wright says, of the nautical 
part only of the metaphor. 

40, 1. tarings... death, or according to the common proverb, 
* shuts the stable door after the steed is stolen.' 

44. you have it, your wish is an actual fact. 

44, 5. Now, all my Joy ... conjunction! may all the joy I can 
wish follow their union ; with all my Joy Grant White compares 
The Coxcomb, iv. 4, **Now, all my blessing on thee!" trace, 
follow in the footsteps, track ; cp. 1 H.IV,m., 1. 48, "Can tra^ 
me in the tedious way of art"; for conjunction, cp. B, III. 
V. 5. 20, ''Smile heaven upon this fair conjunction/ Wright 
sees here an allusion to astrology ; if so, it was " Saturn and 
Venus ...in conjunction!", as ]nnnce Hal says of Falstaff and 
Dollin2ir. /r. ii. 4. 286. 

47. this is ... yt)ung, this news is but fresh. 

50. I persuade me, I am assured, confident 

61, 2. which shall... memorized, which in that blessing shall be 
made memorable ; another prophecy of Elizabeth's birth. Cp. 
Macb* i. 2. 40, "Or m^emori'ie another Golgotha." 

53. Digest, take it down into his stomach as food he can 
assimilate, i.e. endure it without revolting against it, be so com- 
placent as to pass it by without anger. 

57. hath ta'en no leave. " According to Cavendish, Cardinal 
Campeggio took leave of the king at Grafton in Northampton- 
shire, and crossed from Dover 26tn October, 1629 " (Wright). 

58. Has left...unhandled, has abandoned the king's cause 
without bringing it to any conclusion^ 



SCENE II.] NOTES. 149 

61. cried Ha I uttered an exclamation of angry surprise* 

64. He Is ... opinionB, i.e, not in person, but in the opinions he 
has collected abroad and sent home to represent him; 

67. Almost, for the transposition, see Abb. § 420. 

68. publiBh'd, made publicly known. 

71. This same, a phrase almost always used with a suspicion of 
sarcasm, and even here with patronizing good nature. 

75. moody, sullen, in a bad mood. 

76. The packet, ac, of papers. 

78. Presently, at once, without delay; as more usually in 
Shakespeare. 

80. a heed, an expression of attentive thought. 

83. abroad, out of his bedchamber : by this, ac. time. 

85. Duchess of Alen9on, Margaret of Yalois, daughter of Charles 
of Orleans, Count of Angoul6me, married to Charles, Duke of 
Alen9on, who died in 1625. Wright points out that if any 
negotiations for her hand ever took place, it must have been in 
1526, for in 1527 she was already married to Henry of Navarre. 

87. I 'U no . . . him, I will have nobody such as Anne BuUen for 
him ; 1 will take care he does not marry any one such as, etc. 

88. There 's more . . . visage, we need something more than a 
pretty face in the woman he is to marry. 

89. 90. speedily ...Borne, 1 hope that news from Rome may 
quickly arrive. 

92. Does whet ... him, is sharpening the anger he already feels 
against him. 

92, 3. Sharp enough . . . Justice ! may it be whetted sharp enough 
to satisfy God's justice ! 

94. a Imight's dauffhter, of no higher rank than the daughter 
of a knight. 

96. This candle... it. Staunton remarks, ** There may be a 
play intended on the word Bvllen^ which is said to have been an 
ancient provincial name for a candle " ; Kay, Phillips, Halliwell, 
and other Dictionaries of provincial words give 'hemp-stalks 
peeled ' as the meaning of the word, and Wright suggests that 
"if these were used iov wicks, as rushes were, they might give 
their name to a candle." For a similar figure, though there of 
the light of life, cp. 0th. v. 2. 10-13. 

97. what though, what does it matter though, etc. ? 

99. spleeny, headstrong, violent : not wholesome to, injurious 
to the health of. Delius explains *' and it is not wholesome," but 
possibly the construction may be *' one not wholesome to lie," etc. 



16Q KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act in 

101. bard-mled, difficult to be guided, not easily managed. 

103. Hath crawl'd, who hath crawled ; for the omission of the 
relative, see Abb. § 244. 

106. The master-cord ... heart, that cord in his heart the snap- 
ping of which, by constant rubbing, would be fatal to him. 

108. 1^ the honr, perpetually. 

115, 6. straight ... gait, forthwith begins to stride up and down 
the room with rapid steps. 

120. There is ... mind, his mind is in a state of convulsion ; cp. 
/. C. ii. 1. 67-9, ** the state of man. Like to a little kingdom, 
suffers then The nature of an insurrection.'' 

122, 3. and wot you ... unwittingly 7 and what do you suppose I 
found inadvertently placed among them ? 

124. an inventory ... importing, an inventory to this purport. 
** That the Cardinal," says Steevens, "gave the king an inventory 
of his own private wealth, by mistake, and thereby ruined him- 
self, is a known variation from the truth of histo^. Shakespeare, 
however, has not injudiciously represented the mil of that great 
man as owing to an incident which he had once improved to the 
destruction of another." He then gives at length the story ot 
Thomas Kuthall, bishop of Durham, as told in Holinshed. 

125. parcels, particulars, details. 

126-8. which I find ... subject, which articles I find to be of a 
value far beyond what a subject ought to possess; it, used 
indefinitely. 

129. Some spirit, some good angel. 

130-3. If we did think ... musings, if I thought his mind were 
at this moment contemplating things higher than those of earth, 
and were fixed on some object of spiritual gaze, I would not 
interrupt his musings ; were indicates improbability ; for object, 
Dyce and Walker read, with the fourth folio, ** object*," the 
latter observing that that must surely be the right reading, 
** unless, indeed, object had then some meaning with which we 
are not now acquainted." 

1.34. are below the moon, are upon mere mundane matters. 

135. Heaven ...me! said as though in thinking of heavenly 
matters he had failed to notice the king's presence. 

137, 8. Tou are full ... mind, you are full of heavenly matters, 
and bear in your mind the list of those virtues which do you 
most grace, f.e. and are ever mindful of those holy thoughts that 
so w^l become you. In his ironical compliment the king by 
mentioning stuff and Inventory leads up to the subject of the 
schedule which he presently springs upon him. For stuff in this 
figurative sense, cp. above, i. 1. 58. 



80BNB II.] NOTES. 151 

199-41. you have ... andlt, you scarcely have time to steal from 
that portion which is devoted to spiritual affairs a few moments 
to attend to business of an earthly character. ** Leisure," says 
Grant White, *' seems to be opposed, not to occupation, but to 
toilsome and compulsory or necessary occupation." He compares 
B, III, V. 3. 97, "The leisure and the fearful time Cuts off the 
ceremonious love, And ample interchange of sweet discourse." 
Strictly speaking, the word means * that which is permitted.' 

142. an ill husband, a poor economist; cp. Macb. it 1. 4, 
*' There 's husbandry in heaven ; their candles are all out," i.e. the 
heavens are in an economical mood. 

142, 3. am glad ... companion, am glad to find that there are 
othera besides myself who are careless in matters of economy. 

144. offices, duties. 

147. Her times of preservation, periods in which the bodily 
powers must be conserved, recreated. 

149. tendance, attention. 

150-2. And ever ... sajringl And ever may you find my good 
deeds going in couples with my good words, which will be the 
case if my endeavours are of any avail. 

155, 6. and with his deed... you, and by his action towards 
you gave completeness to his words, or, to vary the figure, put 
the coping stone on the edifice ; Steevens compares Macb. iv. 1. 
149, ** To crown my thoughts with actSf be it thought and done ": 
my office, that of king. 

159. But pared... havings, but stinted myself; havings, pos- 
sessions, income. 

160. What should this mean 7 what can possibly be the mean- 
ing of this ? See Abb. § .325. 

161. The Lord... business! I pray God that the matter may 
not end here. 

162. prime man, first in importance; cp. Temp, i. 2. 72, 
** Prospero the prime duke." 

164. if you ... it, if you find yourself able to confess that it is 
true. 

168, 9. which went... endeavours. Johnson refers which to 
purposes, Malone to graces. In the former case the sense will 
be * which exceeded all human efforts '; in the latter, * which no 
human efforts could requite '; and, supposing the text to be cor- 
rect, the latter explanation seems to me pre&rable since Wolsey 
would hardly say that his purposes exceeded all human efforts 
and immediately afterwards that they were commensurate with his 
abilities. But, looking at the abruptness of the next clause, my 



152 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [Acrm. 

•Bdeayoura, etc., I have not the least donbt that the first en- 
deayonrs has been canght from the second. Hanmer conjectared 
man's ambition ;• but this, though it suits the context well enough, 
can only be regarded as a guess. 

171. filed... abilities, marched in a line, kept step, with my 
abilities. 

172. Have been . . . that, have only so far been mine as they, etc. 

176. allegiant, loyal; according to Murray's Dictionary, not 
elsewhere found till late in the present century, and then 
obviously copied from this passage. 

178. Wliieb eyer ... he. For the ellipsis of been, see Abb. § 395. 

. 181. lUnstrated, exemplified, manifested. 

181-3. the honour ... punishment, the honour of being such is 
in itself a sufficient reward, as on the contrary the dishonour of 
not beinff such is its own proper punishment ; the punishment, 
the well-known, notorious, appropriate ; see Abb. § 92. 

187-90. every fiinction...any, every capacity that belongs to 
▼ou, setting aside, independently of, that duty by which you are 
bound to me, should as a matter of personal love, be dedicated to 
the service of me, your friend, above all others ; as in 1. 186 On 
you than any means on you than on any, so here To me . . . than 
any means to me than to any ; notwithstanding has not here its 
commoner sense of * in spite of,' but of 'besides,' * independently 
of ' ; for in love's particular cp. Cor. v. 1. 3, ' who loved him In a 
most dear particular." 

192. that I am true and will be. This is Singer's conjecture. 
The old copies give "that am, have, and will be," to which it 
has been endeavoured to give some sense by marking an aposio- 
pesis, or an anacoluthon, as though Wolsey's excitement was 
too great for coherent language. Conjectures in plenty have 
been made, and some editors suppose a line to have been lost. 
Singer's reading involves nothing more than the insertion of /, 
which however is not absolutely necessary, and a change from 
Juive to true ; and those who are familiar with the misprints of 
compositors will be aware how often tr is converted into h. It 
gives excellent sense, for Wolsey is to the end of the speech em- 
phasizing his truth, i.e. his loyalty. 

197. the chiding flood, the resounding flood-tides ; cp. I H, IV. 
iii. 1. 45, "the sea That chides the banks of England. 

204. how have I reaped it, what seeds have I sown that I should 
reap such a harvest ? i.e. what have I done to deserve this ? 

205. chafed, irritated, provoked* 
207. gall'd, slightly wounded. 



SCENE II.] NOTES. 153 

208. Tlien...notliing, then reduces him to nothing, tears him 
to pieces. 

209. I fear ... anger, in which I fear that I shall find what will 
eiq[)lain his anger. 

211. world of wealth, immensity, heap, of wealth. 

214. what cross devil, what perverse devil, what devil intent 
upon thwarting me. 

215. main secret, secret of more importance than any other one. 

216. to cure, to remedy. 

219. if it take right, if it act upon him as I hope it may. 

220. bring ... again, bring me safe out of the difficulty. 

221. as I live, by my life ; a petty form of oath. 

226. exhalation, meteor; so called from the idea that they 
were vapours which the sun had drawn up from the earth and 
condensed ; cp. B. J. iii. 5. 13, *' It is some meteor that the sun 
exluiles," 

229. the gnreat seal, which he bore as Lord Chancellor. 

231. Asher House, or Esher House, as it was later called, near 
Hampton Court, was one of the houses belonging to the Bishopric 
of Winchester, which Wolsey since the death of Fox, Bishop of 
that See, in 1528, had held in commendam, i.e. as a benefice he 
was permitted to hold along with his own preferment. It has 
therefore been proposed to read "Winchester" for **Win- 
chester'*," but the reading in the text may mean only to mark 
that the house was that of the See, not Wolsey 's own, especially 
as a little later on the king condemns him (1. 342) " To forfeit all 
your goods, lands, tenements." 

234. cross, thwart, run contrary to. 

235. Bearing, seeing that they bear. 

237, 8. Till I find ... malice, till I am shown ** more authority 
for rendering up the seal than a verbal expression of your 
malicious wiU " (Wright) : offldous, literally, ready to do a duty, 
task, is almost always used in a bad sense of ot;er-eagemess to 
undertake it. 

238. deny, refuse to give up. 

241. As if ... ye, as if to do so was meat and drink to you. 

241, 2. how sleek ... ruin, what a lusty and well-fed look every- 
thing that helps towards my ruin gives you. 

244. Ton have . . . 'em, said of course ironically. 

250. Tied it hy letters-patents, assured it by the issue of letters- 
patents to that effect ; letters-patents, official documents, con- 
ferring a privilege, which are open to the inspection of all men ; 



154 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act ni 

the form of the word is a literal translation of the Latin, and 
was the one in use in Shakespeare's day ; cp. Ji, IL ii. 1. 202, 
iL 3. IdO. 

253. Witliln ... hours, only a few hours ago ; forty was often 
used for an indefinite number. 

255. Thou scarlet sin, *' alluding to the red soutaine of the 
cardinal" (Schmidt); as in 1 i/. VL i. 3. 56, ''out scarlet 
hypocrite." 

259. Weiffli'd not, were not worth. 

260. Ton sent me deputy, it was at your instance that I was 
Bent as deputy ; see above, ii. 1. 43. 

262. gavest him, attributed to him. 

264. Aheolyed ... axe. Wright aptly compares ii. H, VI Ay, 7. 
96, "Ye shall have a hempen caudle then and the help of 
hatchet," where ** help " means ** cure.'* 

265. talking, chattering ; fond of hearing his own tongue wag : 
lay ... credit, bring against my good name. 

267, 8. innocent ...From, cp. 2 If. VI, iii. 1. 69, *'innoceiU 
From meaning treason." 

271. honesty, truth. 

272. That, I.e. I that, I who ; the personal pronoun being 
supplied from 1. 269, above. 

274. mate, cope with : sounder, more honest ; cp. below, 
V. 3. 81. 

275. all that ... follies, all of his kidney. 

279. And ... fellow, arroeance that would be unbearable in any 
one, and that is doubly unbearable in such a wretch as this. 

280. jaded, treated like jades, spurned with contempt : a piece 
of scarlet, the allusion is to the cardinal's cap, which like his 
dress was of a scarlet colour, and also to a common method of 
snaring larks by means of small mirrors fastened on scarlet cloth 
which dared them, i.e. caused them to cower upon the ground 
and so enabled the fowler to draw his net over them. Birds 
were also dared when by a falcon in the air they were terrified 
from rising and so could be taken by the hand. Cp,H. V, iv. 2. 
36, '* For our approach shall somucn dare the field That England 
shall crouch down in fear and yield." 

281. go forward, keep on in his insolent way. 

284. into one may mean either * into one heap or possibly 
' into one grasp,' s^ that of your own hands. 

286. The goodness ... packets, the goodness manifested in your 
bundles of papers. 

291. issues, sons. 



SCENE II.] NOTE& 155 

293, 4. tbe arttdes ...life, the pftrticulars of his crimes as 
shown in t^e story of his life. 

297. are ... hand, have been placed in the king's hands, 

298. thus much, I will say thus much of them. 

299. And spotless, probably means * and more spotless ' ; for 
the ellipsis of the inflection, see Abb. § 398. 

302. ont they shall, and I will now make them known. 

304. honesty, goodness, decent shame. 

305. objections, charges. 

306. want, lack, be without. 

307. Haye at you, as we say colloquially ' here goes,* for my 
accusation ; see note on ii. 2. SiS, above. 

309, 10. Tou wrought ... bishops, you schemed to have yourself 
appointed the Pope's legate in England, thus curtailug the 
authority of all bishops in the country by the precedence which 
the appointment gave you. 

312. Ego et Rex mens, I and my king ; good Latinity but bad 
courtiership. 

313. still, ever. 

318. Item, likewise ; Lat. itenif in like manner : large, giving 
him great latitude of action. 

319. Cassado, properly '*Cassalis," which Dyce substitutes, 
but Shakespeare found Cassado in Hall's Chronicle, 

320. allowance, permission. 

321. Ferrara, t.e. the Duke of Ferrara, in Italy. 

323. Tour holy . . . coin. '* This was certainly one of the articles 
exhibited against Wolsey, but rather with a view to swell the 
catalogue, than from any serious cause of accusation ; inasmuch 
as the Archbishops Cranmer, Bainbrigge, and Warham, were 
indulged with the same privilege" (Douce). But, Wright 
points out, the offence lay in the cardinal's hat being **the 
emblem of a foreign title." 

324. innumerable substance, untold treasure, an immense 
amount of money. 

326, 7. To fUmish ... dignities, to supply the wants of the 
Pope, and to pave the ways you take in acquiring dignities: 
mere, absolute ; the word literally means ' pure,' * undiluted.' 

329. they are... odious, they concern you, and are therefore 
hateful. 

331. Press not, do not be too hard upon : 'tis virtue, sc. not to 
press too heavily upon a man so circumstanced. 

332. lie ... Iaw8» are exposed to the correction of the laws. 



156 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act in, 

337. power tegatlne, power as the Pope's legate. 

338. Fall ... prsBmiinire, come within the scope of a prsemmiire ; 
a pnBmunire, a statute framed to check the encroachments of 
the Papal power in matters of jurisdiction, the bestowal of 
bishoprics, etc., before they became void. There were several 
statutes of this name enacted by Edward L, Edward III., 
Richard II., and Henry lY., but the one commonly referred to 
is that by Richard II., passed in 1392. The name is said to be 
from the two first words iVomonert, or PrcBmuniri, facias s 
cause to be warned. 

339. be sued against yon, be sought for in law. 

340. tonemonts, literally holdings by a tenant or vassal, 
especially houses, as here. 

342. Ont... protection, an outlaw: my charge, that which I 
was bidden to announce to you. 

334. For, as regards. 

347. my little ... cardinal, my lord cardinal, in whom there is 
so little good ; the ordinary address would be **my good lord," 
etc., and Norfolk takes advantage of this for a taunt, Wolsey in 
the next line throwing back the words in his teeth. 

349. Farewell! The folios put a note of interrogation after 
the word, and this punctuation Hunter would retain, explaining 
" * Farewell,' — did 1 say * Farewell ? ' did I repeat the word after 
the man ? — ^Yes, it is too surely so — a long farewell to all my 
greatness." But such a subtlety is very improbable. 

351. hopes. Grant White remarks, '* The 8 may be a scribe's 
or printer's superfluity. ... But there is an appreciable, though a 
delicate, distinction between 'the tender leaves of hope' and 
' the tender leaves of hope^ ' ; and the idea conveyed to me by 
the latter, of many desires blooming iuto promise of fruition, is 
the more beautiful, and is certain^ less commonplace"; blos- 
Boms seems certainly to be a verb here, though some take it as a 
substantive. 

354. good easy man, i.e. in his complacent self-assurance. 

355. a-ripening, on ripening, about to ripen. 

357. wanton, frolicsome, light-hearted. 

358. This many summers, this period extending over many 
years; cp. M. M, i. 3. 21, **thi8 nineteen years" ; and see Abb. 
§87. 

360. broke nnder me, burst like a bladder supporting me. 

362. rude, rough, violent. 

364. new open'd, ready to welcome thoughts such as have 
hitherto been strangers to my mind ; new, an adverb. 



SCENE II.] NOTES, 157 

366. aspire to, mount to, soar to ; more coimnonly now of the 
desire to rise, not the accomplishment. 

367. their ruin, the ruin they cause ; their used subjectively. 

369. like Lucifer, an allusion to Isaiah, xiv. 12, "How art 
thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning ! " 
Lucifer, the light-bringer, the day-star, a name applied to Satan. 

370. how now, Cromwell I what is the matter with you that 
you stand there as though thunder-struck ? 

373. decline, fall from his high estate ; literally to bend aside 
from. 

380. pillars. Adee, quoted by Rolfe, sees an allusion to the 
insignia of his office mentioned in the Stage Direction to ii. 4, 
but this seems over-subtlety. 

381. too much honour, in apposition with load. 

383. that hopes for heaven I Since it diverts his thoughts 
from heavenly matters. 

384. of it, of the misfortune that has befallen him. 
388. weak-hearted, pusillanimous. 

396. sleeps in blessings, sleeps in death, blessed by all who 
knew him. 

397. a tomb ... 'em, that is, a tomb which, in addition to the 
benedictions of all who knew him, will be watered by orphans* 
tears. For the conceit, Steevens compares Druminond of Haw- 
thomden's Teares for the decUhe of Moeliades, "The Muses, 
Phoebus, Love, have raised of their teares A crystal tomb to him, 
through which his worth appears. ** Johnson points out that the 
chancellor is the general guardian of orphans. 

402. in open, openly; "a Latinism [in aperto] perhaps intro- 
duced by Ben Jonson, who is said to have tampered with the 
play *' . . . (Steevens). 

403. the voice, the common rumour. 

404. Only about, about that to the exclusion of all other 
subjects. 

406. has gone beyond me, has overreached and so disappointed 
me ; somewhat similarly in 2 JI. IV, iv. 4. 67, "you look beyond 
him," means 'you misconstrue him.' 

407. In that one woman, i.e, in consequence of the king's 
marrying her. 

409. the noble troops, perhaps especially referring to the well- 
bom gentlemen who were among his retainers. The number of 
persons who composed Wolsey's household was something like 
two hundred, but was sometimes exaggerated to five, and even 
eight hundred. 



168 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act iv. 

415-7. Some little ... too, he will not so entirely forget me as 
to let your meritorious services to me go altogether unrewarded. 

«318. maka use now, do not let the present advantage slip, 
seek his service while his heart is softened by my downfsdl. By 
some, use is taken in the sense of interest, a sense which it often 
has as applied to money. 

428. Oat ...truth, as a consequence of your loyalty: to play 
the woman, to weep ; cp. Macb, iv. 3. 230, *' O, I could play the 
woman with mine eyes. 

431, 2. where no mention ... of, where I am certain to be for- 
gotten ; for the reduplication and the transposition of the pre- 
position, see Abb. §§ 409, 424. 

437. that that^ that which. 

448. And, — ^prithee...in. Here his emotion is too much for him, 
and he breaks ofif in his admonitions. 

449. an inyentory. '* This inventory Wolsey actually caused 
to be taken upon his disgrace, and the particulars may be seen 
at large in Stowe's Chronicle "... (Johnson). 

453-5. Had I ... enemies. Wolsey's words uttered to Sir 
William Kingston were, '* if I had served God as diligently as I 
have done the king, he would not have given me over in my 
grey hairs." 

Act IV. Scene 1, 

I. You're well met, see note on ii. 2. 13. 

8. have shown... minds, have fully shown their devotion to 
the king ; with royal minds, cp. ** royal choice," i. 4. 86. 

9. As, let *em ... forward, as, to do them justice, they are ever 
eager to do. 

II. Pageants, eorgeous spectacles ; the word originally meant 
a movable scaffold, such as was used in the representation of 
the old mystery plays. 

11, 2. Never greater ... taken, these shows were never more 
magnificent nor ever more acceptable to those in whose honour 
they are displayed. 

19. earl marshal. This dignity is hereditary in the family of 
the Buke of Norfolk. 

21. beholding. See note on i. iv. 32, above. 

27. Dnnstahle, in Bedfordshire, now a great seat of straw- 
plaiting industry. *'Cranmer held his court at Dunstable 
Priory, and the divorce was pronounced in the Lady Chapel" 
(Wright). 



SCENE I.] NOTES. 159 

28. Amptliill. Ampthill Castle, built in the fifteenth century, 
was demolished early in the seventeenth century ; a cross with 
an inscription in memory of Katharine now marks the site of 
the castle : lay, resided ; cp. M, W. ii. 2. 63, ** when the court 
lay at Wmdsor." The term is still used of regiments encamped. 

29. dted, summoned by legal process. 

30. 1. for not ... scruple, for refusing to appear before the 
court, and in consequence of the scruple as to the legality of his 
marriage which tlie king of late has felt; we should now say 
either for * non-appearance,' or * for not appearing ' : the main 
assent, the general assent. 

33. late marriage. Steevens takes this to mean ** the marriage 
loUdy considered as a valid one " ; but there seems no reason why 
late should not mean simply ' former ' ; in iii. 2. 94, Katharine is 
called '* The kUe queen.*' 

34. Eimbolton Castle in Huntingdonshire, now the seat of the 
Duke of Manchester, where many relics of the queen are still 
preserved. ^ ^ 

Stage Dibection. Oarter, t.e. Garter Kin^-at-Arms, or chief 
herald ; here Thomas Wriothesley, appointea by Henry in 1529. 
In English heraldry there are three such officers, the first in 
rank Garter, the second Clarencieux, and the third Norroy : his 
coat of arms, his official dress, emblazoned with the royal arms : 
Collars of SS., a collar adopted by Henry IV., the letters being 
supposed by some to stand for *' souveraigne," in reference to his 
claim to the crown, by others to be in honour of St. Simplicius, 
a martyr : fonr of the Cinque-ports, t.e. four of the wardens 
of the Cinque-ports, viz., Dover, Hastings, Sandwich, Hythe, 
and Romney, ports on the southern coast of England which, 
lying opposite to France, were entrusted to special guardians. 
So, in Dekker's King's Entertainment, etc., the king comes 
in " richly mounted on a white jeunet, under a rich canopy 
sustained by eight barons of the Cinque-ports." The war- 
denships of the Five Ports (to which were afterwards added 
Bye and Winchelsea) were constituted by William I. and suc- 
ceeding kings, who required the wardens to supply ships to 
defend the coast. The peculiar jurisdiction of the wardens was 
abolished in 1855 : in her hair richly adorned. Walker and Dyce 
omit in, but the expression appears to mean with her hair down, 
hanging loose about her shoulders, as was the custom with brides 
in those days : pearl, used collectively for pearls, as in H. V, iv. 
1. 280, ** The intertissued robe of gold and pearl " ; and Marlowe, 
Edward the Second, iv. 1. 414, " He wears a short Italian hooded 
cloak, Larded with pearV^ : On each side her, so in u4. C. ii. 2. 
206, *' on each side her stood pretty boys" : a coronal, what we 
should now call a ' coronet.' 



160 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act iv. 

45. all tbe IndleB, all the wealth of the East, as we might say. 

46. Btrains, holds tightly in his amis. 

47. blame Ids conscience, «c. for having scruples about the 
legality of his marriage with Katharine. 

50. all are near her, all who are near her. 

55. And ... ones, and not always as virtuous as they might be. 

56. where ... broiling ? where have you been that you are in 
such a state of heat ? 

57* Abbey, Westminster Abbey, where the coronation, from 
which the procession is returning, took place. 

57, 8. where a finger ... more, where the crowd was so great 
that you could not have wedged in another finger. 

58, 9. I am stifled ... joy, cp. J, G, i. 2. 245-9, " the rabblement 
... uttered such a deal of stinking breath because Ceesar refused 
the crown that it had almost choked Caesar." 

64. the choir, that part of a church, cathedral, abbey, etc., in 
which the service is sung, the choir, or band of singers (from Lat. 
c?toru8), being placed in opposite rows along the length of the 
building. 

64, 5. fell off ... her, retired to a distance from her. 

67, 8. opposing ... people, facing them so that her beauty could 
be seen by all ; cp. ii. H, VL iv. 10, 48, ** Oppose thy steadfast- 
gazing eyes to mine." 

72. the shrouds, the standing rigging of a vessel, from A.S. 
»criid, a garment, clothing, hence that in which a vessel is 
dressed. 

74. Doublets, an inner garment answering pretty much to the 
waistcoat of to-day ; literally, a little double, i.e. of the outer 
garment. 

75. they . . . lost, they would have flung them up too in their joy. 

77. rams, battering-rams. 

78, 9. would shake ... 'em, constantly forced their way through 
the crowds ; a thing which would be possible for women in their 
condition only under the greatest excitement. 

80, 1. all were ... piece, i.e. so complete was the confusion that 
it was quite impossible for husbands and wives to keep together. 

85. bow'd her, bowed herself, made her bow. 

87. all the royal ... queen, all those things which go to the 
completion of the coronation ceremony. 

88. holy oil, with which the sovereign is still consecrated at 
coronation ; called in H. V. iv. 1. 277, " the balm" ; Edward ... 
crown, the crown of Edward, called, from his piety, the Con- 
fessor, was of old used at coronations. 



SCENE I.] NOTES. 161 

S9. rod, a kind of sceptre ; bird of peace, the wand headed by 
a dove as an emblem of peace. 

91. tlie choicest music, the best musicians. 

92. Te Deum, a psalm of thanksgiving in the Church Service, 
so called from its first words, Te Deum lavdamus, "We praise 
thee, O Lord " : parted, departed. 

94. where . . . held, in reality the feast was held in Westminster 
Hall. 

99. Is fresh about me, still stays in my memory, so that I 
cannot easily bring myself to use the new name. 

1 02. Newly . . . secretary, recently promoted from being secretary 
to the king to the bishopric of Winchester. 

113. without all doubt, beyond all doubt, doubtlessly. 

116. Something ... command, my position there wiU enable me 
to offer you some entertainment. 



Scene XL 

Stage DmEcriON. Grlflath, **here Katharine's gentleman 
usher was Griffin Richardes, her receiver-general" ... (Wright). 

3. Willing ... burthen, unwilling to bear their load {sc, of the 
body) any longer. 

6. the great . . . honour, whom honour loved toj)et as a favourite 
child ; cp. 1. 60, below. Wright points out that Wolsey died 
more than five years before Katharine, on the 29th November, 
1530. 

10. happily, haply, perhaps; so conversely hafly is used 
8ia = happily in T, G, i. 1. 32, **If Aop^y won, perhaps a hapless 
gain. " 

11. the voice, the common talk. 

12. the stout ... Northumberland, Henry Percy, who in early 
life was betrothed to Anne Bullen, the match being broken on 
by Wolsey in the king's interests. 

13. at York, where he was residing in Cawood Castle : brou^rht 
him forward, brought him on his way. 

14. sorely tainted, in deep disgrace as a traitor : to his answer, 
in order that he might meet the charges to be brought against 
him. 

15. He fell ... suddenly, '<at Sheffield Park, a seat of the Earl 
of Shrewsbury, where he stayed eighteen days" ... (Wright). " 

17. with easy roads, by easy stages. 

L 



162 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act iv. 

19. covent, convent ; a form of the word which still survives in 
Covent Garden. 

23. Give Mm ... charity I be charitable enough to give him 
burial. 

24. eagvrly, sharply, violently; cp. Haml, i. 4. 2, **It is a 
nipping and an eager air." 

30. His ttlessed part, his penitent soul. 

32. to speak him, see note on ii. 4. 140L 

34. Of . . . stomacli, of boundless arrogance. 

35. 6. one tbat ... kingdom, one who by underhand practices 
plundered the whole land of immense treasure. With Byce, 
Grant White, and others, I have adopted Hanmer's correction 
of Ty'de qr Ty^d of the folios. Those who retain Tied explain it 
as "brought into a condition of bondage by his exactions and 
commissions," " infringed the liberties, etc. The words are a 
counterpart of Holinshed's narrative, *'This cardinal was of a 
great stomach, for he computed himself equal with princes, and 
by craftie suggestions gat into his hands innumerable treasure," 
etc. Tith'd, which it is not of course necessary to take in its 
literal sense of taking a tenth part, is in keeping with simony, 
another ecclesiastical term. 

36. simony was fair-play, in his eyes simony was no offence 
but a perfectly fair practice ; simony is the crime of trafficking 
in ecclesiastical preferment, and is so called from Simon Magus, 
who wished to purchase the gift of the Holy Ghost with money. 

37. i' the presence, even before the king. 

38. doable, given to duplicity, insincerity. 

39. 40. he was never ... pitifUl, if ever he showed himself com- 
passionate, it was towards those whom he intended to ruin ; ».e. 
his appearance of kindness was only a blind to hoodwink those 
against whom he had the worst designs. 

43. Of his ... ill, in matters of morality he was a great sinner. 

46, 6. Men's evil ... water, cp. J. G. iii. 2, 80, 1, "The evil 
that men do lives after them. The good is oft interred with their 
bones." 

50. Was fashioned . . . cradle, from his earliest days was destined 
to much honour. The folios have a full stop after honour ; with 
the sense that from his cradle he was a ripe scholar. The cor- 
rection is Theobald's and is generally accepted. The speech is a 
close transcript from Holinshed, where we are told that Wolsey 
" was a man undoubtedly born to honour." 

62. Exceeding, exceedingly ; so Shakespeare uses passing = 
surpassingly. 

68. in you, apostrophizing Ipswich and Oxford* 



SCENE II.] NOTES. 163 

59,60. Ipswich ...it. Wolsey was founder of a college at 
Ipswich that did not long survive him, and of Christchurch 
College, at Oxford, originafiy called Cardinal College : the good 
is variously explained as **the wealth and munificence of the 
founder," "the good man," and "the goodness," which last 
seems to me the most probable meaning. Various conjectures 
also have been made to emend the line, as " the good he did it," 
"the good that rear'd it," " the hand that fed it," etc 

62. So excellent in art, so eminent for learning. 

65. he felt himself, he came to a true knowledge of himself 

71. from corruption, from decaying as the body does after 
death. 

74. modesty, moderation. 

76. set me lower, i.e. in a more recumbent position. 

78. note, musical air. 

Stage Direction, vizards, masks : as it were by inspiration 
as though inspired from above. 

84. And leave ... ye? without taking me, as I had hoped you 
would, up to heaven with you ? 

92. I shall, assuredly, but assuredly I shall wear them before 
long. 

94. the music, the musicians : leave, cease playing. 

95. They are harsh ... me, instead of soothing me, they vex me. 

98. And of an earthy cold, and cold as a dead body ; Singer 
conjectured colour, which Dyce and others adopt, but without 
improvement, as it seems to me, for the ashy colour does not 
come on till some time after death. 

100. An 't ... grace, if it pleases your grace. 

102. Knowing ...greatness, Knowing, as you ought to do, 
that she refuses to be treated in any other way than as a queen, 
in spite of her being divorced. Her pertinacity on this point is 
said to have been largely due to the feeling that any abatement 
of her claims would compromise the legitimacy of her daughter. 

105. 8ta3rlng, waiting for admission. 

107. Admit him entrance, give him entrance. 

110. Gapudus, Eustachius, ambassador from Charles V., in 
whose presence Katharine expired. 

112. The times ... strangely, so changed are the times with me 
that I no longer can claim to be addressed by the same titles 
that were mine when last we met. 

122. had cured, would have cured. 

127. Banish'd, i.e. shall he banished, the ellipsis being supplied 
from shall in the previous line. 



164 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act v. 

131. commended ... groodneas, recommended her to his good 
care. 

132. model, copy, image; used by Shakespeare (1) as the 
pattern of something to be made, (2) as the thing shaped after 
the likeness of such pattern. 

141. hoth. my forttmes, me in adversity as well as in pros- 
perity. 

143. And now ...lie, and now that I am on my death-bed, it 
would be doubly sinful for me to lie, i.e. you may be sure that I 
am not likely to lie. 

146. let bim "be a noble, even though he should be a nobleman; 
cp. R. II. i. 1. 69, " Setting aside his high blood's royalty. And 
let him he no kinsman to my liege." 

159. Or let me ... man 1 or let me no longer be thought worthy 
of the name of a man. 

162. Mb long trouble, she who so long has been a trouble to 
him. 

168, 9. Btrew me ... flowers, cp. Hand. v. 1. 255, 6, " Yet here 
she is allow'd her virgin crants^ Her maiden strevmierUs," where 
crants means a coronet of flowers worn by maidens till they are 
married. 



Act V. Scene 1. 

2, 3. Tbese Bhonld ... deligbts, we should look upon these late 
hours as meant for necessary sleep, not for revelry. 

5. Gtood ... night, I wish you a good night. 

7. prlmero, a fashionable game at cards then, and long after, 
Introduced from Spain or from Italy. 

11, 2. an lf...to't, if there is no great objection to your 
doing so. 

13. Some tonch, some hint, inkling : that walk, that have not 
been allowed to rest, are still in active progress. 

15. wilder, more tumultuous. 

17. commend, deliver, commit ; cp. L. L. L. iii. 1. 169, "And 
to her white hand see thou do commend This seaPd-up coimsel." 
The word is a doublet of command ; the former being the Latin 
the latter the French form. 

18. work, matter, business, which you call so wild. 

19. 20. and fear'd ... end, and it is feared that she will die in 
childbirth ; for the ellipsis, see Abb. § 403. 

20. The froit ... with, the child with whom she is in labour, 
22. Good time, a happy birth. 



SCENE I.] NOTES. 165 

22, 3. but for . . . how, but for the parent stock, I wish it could 
be rooted up at once, i.e. that Anne might die. Gardiner, like 
Wolsey, hated her as *'a spleeny Lutheran." 

24. the amen, the so-be-it that should complete your prayer. 

28. Of mine own way of thinking in matters of religion. 

30. take 't of me, rely upon what I say. 

34. is made, he is made. 

34, 5. master . . . rolls, an equity judge, deriving his title from 
having the custody of all charters, patents, commissions, etc., 
entered upon rolls of parchment. 

36. Stands ... preferments, stands where promotion must of 
necessity come to him, cannot pass him by ; gap, ** the opening 
through which preferments pass " (Wright) ; trade, trodden 
path ; of the word so used in a literal sense, Skeat quotes an 
instance from Surrey's translation of Vergil, Aen. ii. 593, **A 
common trade y to pass through Priam's house." Steevens com- 
pares B. II. iii. 3. 156, ** Some way of common trade," ».e. com- 
monly trodden. 

38. dare, would dare ; subjunctive. 

43. Incensed, stirred up to believe, heated their minds with 
the belief. Nares, Gloss. 8.v. incense^ says "more properly 
insense, To put sense into, to instruct, inform. A provincial ex- 
pression still quite current in Staffordshire, and probably War- 
wickshire, whence we may suppose Shakespeare had it " ; and he 
so explains B. III. iii. 1. 152, and M. A. v. 1. 242. If Nares be 
right, there would, I think, be additional reason for reading, 
with Dyce, in the previous line, ** Sir, I may tell it you, I think, 
— ^I have," i.e. linking " I think " with ** I may telJ you," instead 
of with "I have." 

44. For 80 ... he is, with the present punctuation the sense will 
be both they and I know him to be ; but the line may, I think 
be made more forcible and more in character with Gardiner's 
arrogance if a comma be put after For. The meaning will then 
be, For, provided I know him to be so, they also know him to be 
so, ** they'll tell the clock to any business that " I ** say befits the 
hour," Temp. u. 1. 289, 90. 

46. moved, stirred up ; which seems to support incensed in 
1. 43. 

47. Have broken ... king, made a disclosure to the king; cp. 
T. O. iii. 1. 59, ** I am to break with thee of some affairs." 

48. of his gredX gn:ace, out of his gracious consideration. 

50. hath commanded, that he has commanded ; the construc- 
tion is, " hath so far given ear to our complaint " that, etc. 

52. convented, summoned. 



166 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act v. 

57. My mind's not on't, my thoughts are wandering, I cannot 
keep my attention fixed upon the game : too hard for ine, too 
much for me, more than a match for me. 

60. when my fancy's . . . play, when I am in the humour for play. 

67. is she cr3rin£r out ? ac. with the pangs of labour. 

68, 9. and that . . . death, and that her agony was so great that 
each throe was almost a death in itself. 

71. traTall and travel are doublets of each other, the sense of 
both being toil, labour ; but the former (except in figurative lan- 
guage) is now reserved for the special toil, labour, of a woman 
m childbirth, the latter for the toil, labour of a journey. In 
Shakespeare the two forms are used indiscriminately. 

71, 2. to the gladding ... heir, so that your highness may be 
gladdened by the birth of an heir. 

74. estate, state, condition. 

75, 6. For I must ... to, for my thoughts must be upon subjects 
to which company would not be favourable, with which the 
presence of another would but interfere. The king is thinking of 
his coming interview with Cranmer. 

Stage Direction. Sir Anthony Denny, groom of the state to 
Henry, and one of his Privy Council. 

79. what follows 7 se, upon your appearance. What have you 
come to tell me ? 

83. attends, waits. 

85. Avoid, quit ; cp. Cor. iv. 5. 25, " Pray you, avoid the 
house": Hal... said, an exclamation of surprised irritation at 
his not leaving at once ; I have given you my orders and yet you 
are still there. ** Ha ! " says Wright, ** appears to have been an 
exclamation characteristic of Henry, for in Rowley's When you 
see me you know me ... we find, * Am I not Harry ? am I not 
England's king ? Ha !' On which the king's jester, Will Somers, 
comments : * So la ! Now the watchword's given, nay, an he once 
cry Ha ! ne'er a man in the court dare for his head speak again. ' " 

87. Tis his ... terror, it is the look he puts on when he wishes 
to strike terror into any one. 

93. walk ... together, take a turn, walk up and down, together 
for a while. 

96. right sorry, thoroughly sorry. 

100, 1. Have moved ... ns, have prompted us to summon you 
before us. 

102. with such freedom, so completely. 

103-6. But that . . . Tower, so as to prevent the necessity of 
your patiently retiring to the Tower until those charges to which 



J 



SCENE I.] NOTES. 167 

your answer will be required have been further examined ; 
take ... to you, fortify yourself with patience, take it as an ally ; 
cp. Philaster, i. 1, "Shrink not, worthy sir, But add your /cUher 
to you," i.e. all manly resolution. 

106-8. you a brother ... you, you being one of our number {i.e. 
a member of the Privy Council), it is necessary to proceed in this 
way, as otherwise no one would venture to bear witness against 
you. 

109. to catcb, to seize, take advantage of. 

110. throug^Uy, thoroughly : where, in which process. 

114, 5. Thy truth ... friend, I, your friend, am firmly convinced 
of your thorough sincerity ; Is because truth and integrity is one 
idea, as in 1. 122, "my truth and honesty." 

116. holidame, halidom, sacred oath; from A.S. hdlig, holy, 
with suffix -dom. 

117. I look'd, I fully expected. 

121. in durance, durance in the Tower, confinement. 

122. The good I stand on, the goodness on which I rely as my 
safe defence. 

123. with mine enemies, like my enemies, just as much as they. 

124. weigh not, think of no value, care nothing for. 

125. Being ... vacant, if it is devoid of those virtues. 

127. How your state ... world? how the whole world regards 
the position in which you are placed ? 

128. practices, plots, stratagems. 

129. Must ... proportion, are sure to be in proportion to their 
number and greatness. 

129-31. and not ever ...it, and it is not always that a just 
cause secures the verdict it deserves ; here again the verb is in 
the singular, the idea being one. 

131-3. at what ...you? Do you consider how ecusily men of 
corrupt minds might suborn knaves as corrupt as themselves to 
give false evidence against you ? Dyce puts a note of admiration 
instead of one of interrogation after you ; for the varying accent 
on corrupt, see note on complete, i. 2. 118, above. 

134, 5. Ton ... size, you have powerful enemies whose malice 
is equal to their power. 

135-8. Ween you ...earth? Do you expect to be more for- 
tunate in respect to perjured evidence than your Master, Christ, 
was when He was upon this wicked world ? naughty, literally, 
* of naught,' * worthless,' then * wicked ' : whiles, the old genitive 
of while, time, used adverbialJy. 



168 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act v. 

139. Ton take ... danger, you look upon a precipice as though 
it were a leap easily taken. 

142. is laid, which is laid. 

143. give way to, allow. 

144. Keep comfort to you, be not dismayed : see, take care. 

146. to commit, so, to prison. 

147-9. The best ... you, do not fail to employ the most per- 
suasive arguments against such treatment with all the strength 
of language that the occasion prompts. 

149-50. if entreaties ... remedy, if it turns out, if it is destined, 
that, entreaties shall not, etc. See Abb. § 321. 

153. Ctod's ... motlier 1 I swear by the Virgin Mary, the mother 
of Christ. 

154, 5. and a sonl ... kingdom, and a soul whose better there is 
not in, etc. Get you gone, ** an idiom ; that is to say, a peculiar 
form of expression, the principle of which cannot be carried out 
beyond the particular instance. Thus we cannot say either Make 
thee gone, or He got him (or himself) gone. Phraseologies, on the 
contrary, which are not idiomatic are paradigmatic, or may serve 
as models or moulds for others to any extent. All expression is 
divided into these two kinds "... (Craik on J. G. ii. 4. 2). 

156, 7. He lias ... tears, his tears choke his utterance. 

159. Will make... manners, will excuse my forcing my way 
here. 

164. And ...'boy, in her eagerness to please the king the old 
lady declares that it is a boy, a statement which she directly 
qualifies by saying '* at least, if not a boy, a girl who promises to 
be the mother of many boys. " Boswell thinks that ** the humour 
of the passage consists in the talkative old lady, who had in her 
hurry said it was a boy, addinc bJess her before she corrects her 
mistake "; but her with equal likelihood refers to the queen. 

167. Desires yonr visitation, is anxious that you should pay her 
a visit, go to her. 

170. marks, a mark was worth thirteen shillings and four- 
pence. 

171. By this light, a petty oath. 

172. is for such payment, " is fit to receive. We might invert 
the expression without changing it and say * such payment is for 
an ordinary person'" (Wright). 

175. nnsay 't, recall my words. 

175, 6. and now ... issue, and I will strike when the iron is hot ; 
make my demand before his generosity has time to cool. 



SCENE II.] NOTES. 169 



Scene IL 

Stage Direction. FarBulTaxits, attendants on heralds, liter- 
ally, those who are following ; F. jxmrauivrei to follow. 

3. AU fSLSb 7 what, are all the doors closed ? 

5. cannot help you, i,e, by giving you admission. 

Stage Dibbction. Doctor Butts, Sir William Butts, chief 
physician to the king, who knighted him, and bestowed upon 
him the manor of Thornaee, in Norfolk, his native county. He 
died November, 1745, and was buried in Fulham church. 

8. liappUy, fortunately. 

9. Bball ... presently, shall be told of it without delay. 

13. Pray heaven... disgrace I Delius takes sound to mean 
diagnose the nature of my disease, i.e. my disgrace, as a physician 
does ; Schmidt as = fathom, search with a plummet ; Bolfe 
and Wright as = proclaim. To me Schmidt's explanation seems 
the most probable ; Butts was a firm friend to Cranmer, and 
would hardly be thought likely to proclaim his disgrace abroad. 
He has just said '* the king Shall understand it presently," which 
at aU events shows what his intention was. 

15. torn their hearts, incline their hearts to greater charity : 
I never ... malice, I never did anything to provoke their ill-will. 

16. To quench mine honour, the construction is "This is of 
purpose laid to quench," etc. 

21. I think ...day, the construction is here again interrupted 
by the king's question. 

22. Body o' me, a petty oath, softened from *8 hody^ i.e, by 
Grod's body, a very common form of imprecation. 

23. The high promotion, of course Ironical. 

27. one above 'em, sc, himself. 

28. parted, shared. 

31. To dance . . . pleasures, to let him kick his heels outside until 
they are pleased to admit him. 

32. a post, a letter-carrier. 

34. Let 'em alone, i.e. do not give them any warning of my 
being near at hand, but let me be a secret spectator of their 
doings. 

Scene III. 

Stage Direction. The Lord Chancellor. "If the date of 
Cranmer's appearance before the Council was 1544 or 1545, the 
Chancellor was Sir Thomas Wriothesley, afterwards Earl ol 



170 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [acjt v. 

Southampton, the grandfather of Shakespeare's friend. It is 
probable that the dramatist supposed it was Sir Thomas More ; 
but, as Theobald pointed oift, he had surrendered the seals on 
May 16, 1532, a year and more before the birth of Elizabeth, and 
was succeeded by Sir Thomas Audley, who resigned April 21, 
1544, and died on April 30 following. ... Cromwell, who is sup- 
posed to act as Secretary to the Council, was beheaded July 28, 
1540. He became a member of the Privy Council in 1531 after 
the death of Wolsey " (Wright). 

I. Speak to the bosineBS, open the business by teUing us its 
nature. 

9. at tills present, now used in legal phraseology only. 

II, 12. and capable . . . flesh, '* subject to the temptations of our 
fleshly nature" (Schmidt); cp. K, J. iii. 1. 12, "For I am sick 
and capahle of fears." Various emendations have been proposed, 
but seemingly without reason. 

19. not reform'd, if not corrected. 

20. Which, and this. 

22. Pace . . . hands, do not school them, teach them their paces, 
simply by leading them by the bridle ; cp. Per. iv. 6. 68-70, 
" My lord, she 's not -paced yet ; you must take some pains to 
work her to our manage.^* 

23. But stop ... bits, but thrust heavy and powerful bits Into 
their mouths. It must be remembered that the bits of those days 
were of a much more mouth-filling make than those of modem 
use, and so the word stop, i.e. fill up, is appropriate. 

24. the manage, the handling, the control, of the rider ; a 
technical term in horsemanship ; cp. I H. IV. ii. 3. 52, ** Speak 
terms of manage to thy bounding steed." 

25. onr easiness, our easy temper. 

30. The upper Germany, referring, says Grey, "to the heresy 
of Thomas Muntzer, which sprang up in Saxony in the vears 
1521 and 1522," or, adds Wright, "to the sedition of the 
Anabaptists of MUnster in 1535." 

31. Tet freshly ... memories, pity for which is still fresh in our 
memories; the construction is "as our neighbours, the upper 
Germany, yet freshly, etc., can witness." 

34. study, anxious effort. 

34-6. that my teaching ... safely, that my teaching and the 
power which my authority gives me should go hand in hand in 
the same direction, and that direction a safe one ; i.e. that he had 
endeavoured to guide those under his spiritual care in the safe 
path alike by the persuasions of his teaching and, where it was 
necessary, by the exercise of his power as a prelate. 



SCENE III.] NOTES. 171 

38. with a single heart, with all sincerity ; singleness of pur- 
pose is the opposite of duplicity. 

39. more stirs against, is more actively opposed to. 

40. place, office. 

43-5. Men that make . . . best, men who feed upon hatred and 
treacherous ill-will, will not scruple to strike their fangs into 
even the noblest. 

47. Be what they will, be they who they may ; whoever they 
are. 

48. finely ... me, openly state their charges against me ; nrge, 
used intransitively in this absolute sense, is not elsewhere found 
in Shakespeare. 

50. by that virtue, by virtue, in consequence, of that position. 

53. And our consent, with which we are in accord, harmony : 
for better ... you, so that your examination may be more con- 
veniently conducted. 

57. are provided for, are prepared to meet and answer. 

59. pass, is accepted by the Council. 

60. I shall ...Juror, t.e. I shall find you both judge and juror. 
64. modesty, humility. 

65-8. That I shall ... wrongs, that I shall be able to prove my 
innocence, however great be the load you put upon my endurance, 
— I have as little doubt as you have scruple in doing evil deeds 
every day of your life. 

69. calling, profession : modest, moderate. 

70. a sectary, a heretic. 

71,2. your painted ... weakness, beneath the fair but false 
complexion you put upon matters, those who know your nature 
detect mere feeble verbiage ; words and weakness are a 
hendiadys ; discovers, reveals. 

74. too sharp, too eager in yoiir hostility. 

75, 6. yet should . . . been, should yet be treated with respect if 
only on account of what they once were. 

77. To load ... man, cp. above, iii. 2. 331, '* Press not a falling 
man too far. " 

78. I cry . . . mercy, I beg yoiir worship's pardon ; said of course 
ironically. 

78, 9. you may ... so, you sire the last person here who should 
say so. 



172 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [acjtv. 

SI. sotuul, orthodox. 

83. Men's prayers ... fears, you would then be followed by 
men's prayers, not by their curses. 

86. for shame, if you have any regard for decency. 
88. I take it, sc. for granted. 

92. Is there... mercy, is there no other way, and a merciful 
one? 

93. But I ... Tower, without the necessity of my being sent to 
the Tower. 

96. RecelYe him, t.e. into your custody. 

100. the gripes, the vicious clutch ; we should now use the 
singular. 

108. How much . . . him, if he would not suffer the little finger of 
this man to be injured, we may judge in how much higher esti- 
mation he holds his life. 

109. out on't, 8C. this business : My mind gave me, I had a 
misgiving, I was troubled with the feeling that, etc. Cp. Cor, 
iv. 5. 157, *'and yet my mind gave me his clothes made a false 
report of him"; in Fletcher's Chances, iv. 1. 49, the phrase is 
used of anticipation without any suspicion, "my mind gives me. 
Before night yet she is yours." When it went out of use I do 
not know, but Dryden has it in Sir Martin MaralU 

110. In seeking... informations, in hunting up vague stories 
such as informers are ever ready to supply. 

111. 2. whose honesty ... at, of whose truth none but the devil 
and his followers are jealous. 

113. Ye blew ... ye, dependent on ** My mind gave me" : now 
... ye, now arm yourselves for the issue, for the kmg is upon you. 

117. in all obedience, with all due deference to the church. 
He was soon to show this obedience with a vengeance. 

118-21. and, to strengthen... offender, and to emphasize that 
holy duty, out of the heartfelt reverence he bears her, is present 
in person to hear and pass sentence in the cause, etc. ; dear is 
used as an intensive in a variety of senses. 

122. Ton were . . . commendations, you were never at a loss for 
flattering speeches to meet a sudden occasion. 

123-5. But know, ... offences, but understand that I do not 
come to listen to such flattery now ; moreover such flattery 
uttered in my presence is too transparent to hide offences. The 
reading in the text is that of the first folio ; most modem editors 
follow Capell in putting a semicolon or a colon after presence, 



SOENB III.] NOTES. 173 

but, as Wright points out "to hear in my presence" is tauto- 
logical : Rowe altered flattery to flatteries to agree with They, 
which- Dyce accepts ; but They may refer, as some think, to 
commendations, or, as it seems to me, may be inherent in flattery 
= flattering terms. 

126. To me, ... spaniel, to me, whom your teeth cannot reach, 
you play the spaniel. The folios read ** To me you cannot reach. 
You play," etc., a reading retained by Delius and others ; the 
punctuation in the text is Mason's conjecture. 

131. He, see Abb. § 216 : hat wag, do so much as wag. 

133. Than hut ... not, than so much as once think that you are 
out of place in this seat in Council. The king has just bidden 
Cranmer to the vacant seat at the Council table which rightly 
belonged to him. 

136. of my council, among the members of, etc. 

140. At chamher-door, see Abb. § 90. 

146. mean, the means ; frequent in Shakespeare in the 
singular. 

151. If there ... men, if men are ever to be trusted. 

152. fiair purgation, ... world, complete exculpation in the eyes 
of the world. 

153. I'm sore, in me, I am sure of this, at all events for my 
own part. 

156. beholding, see note on i. 4. 32. 

159. Make me ... ado, do not let me see any more hesitation 
about this; ado, trouble, bother; "properly verb infinitive -&t 
do, which was the fuller form ... (l)pres. inf. To do ; ... (2) In 
doing, being done ; at work, astir ... Hence through such phrases 
as much culo, etc., by taking the adverbs as adjectives qualifying 
adOf the latter was viewed as a substantive "... (Murray, jSng, 
Diet. ). 

162. That is, altered by Rowe to **t?iere is" ; but the construc- 
tion probably is, " That (ac. my suit) is, you must be godfather to 
and answer for a fair young maid, etc. ; her being the redundant 
object. 

163. answer for her, as a godfather does in baptism by taking 
the sins of the child upon his head until such time as it is able to 
answer for them itself. 

167. you 'Id spare your spoons, you wish to excuse yourself 
in order to escape having to give the customary present at the 
christening. * ' It seems to have been an old custom for sponsors 
at christenings to give one or more such spoons [i.e. Apostle 



174 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act v. 

spoons] to the child for whom they answered ; usually the spoon 
would bear the figure of the saint in honour of whom the child 
was named, or the patron saint of the donor, each apostle being 
distinguished by his own particular emblem " (Cripps, College and 
Corporation Plate, quoted by Wright). The custom of giving 
Apostle spoons has revived of late years. 

169. Lady Marquess Dorset, Margaret, daughter of Sir Robert 
Watton, second wife, and at this period widow, of Thomas 
Grey, second Marquess of Dorset. We should now write 
Marchioness for Marquess, which is a doublet of Marquis, the 
male title, literally meaning a prefect of the marches. 

172. true, sincere. 

173. brother-love, love such as that of a brother. 

174. this confirmation, this assurance, given by his embrace. 

178. shrewd, ill-natured ; properly pp. of to shrew, to curse. 

179. trifle ... away, waste time over trifles. 

180. made a Christian, baptized, christened. 

181. made ye one, reconciled you ; aioTied you, as Shakespeare 
often writes. 

182. So, in that way by your union. 



Scene IV. 

1. leave, cease : You *11, used imperatively ; see Abb. § 320. 

2. Paris-g^arden, sometimes miscalled ** Parish-garden," was a 
celebrated bear-garden, i.e. garden for the baiting of bears, long 
a favourite sport, deriving its name from Robert de Paris who 
had a house there in the time of Richard the Second : gaping^, 
shouting. 

3. I belong: to the larder, I am one of the servants of the king's 
larder. 

6. these are . . . 'em, these make no impression on their hides. 

6, 7. I'll scratch your heads, a jocular way of saying **I'll 
thrash you well," perhaps said as he sees one of the crowd 
scratching his head. Cp. 2 H. IV. ii. 1. 66, "I'll tickle your 
catastrophe." 

8. ale and ca.kes, part of the usual fare at weddings, feasts, 
etc. Cp. T» N, ii. 3. 124, 5, ** Dost thou think, because thou art 
virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale ? " 

9. much impossible, see Abb. § 51. 

12. May-day morning. " Bounce tells us how the young people 
were in the habit of rising a little after midnight and walking to 



SCENE IV.] NOTES. 175 

some neighbouring wood, accompanied with music and the blow- 
ing of horns, where they broke down branches from the trees, 
which, decorated with nosegays and garlands of flowers, were 
brought home soon after sunrise, and placed at their doors and 
windows ... In Chaucer's * Court of Love' we read that early on 
May-day * Fourth goth al the Court, both most and lest. To 
fetche the flow'rs fresh and blome.' In the reign of Henry the 
Eighth, it is on record that the heads of the Corporation of 
London went out into the high ^oimds of Kent to gather the 
May, and were met on Shooter's Hill by the king and his queen, 
Catherine of Arragon, as they were coming from the palace of 
Greenwich" (Dyer, Folklore of Shakespeare^ pp. 287, etc.). 

13. We may ... 'em, we may just as well hope to knock down 
St. Paul's Cathedral by pushing against it, as try to move them. 

14. and be hang'd, curses on you. 

15. how gets the tide in ? when you tell me how the tide gets 
in, I will tell you how they got in ; the one question is as sensible 
as the other. 

17. You see ... remainder, you see how much is left of it after 
my use of it on their heads and shoulders : could distribute, was 
able to disperse them. 

18. I made no spare, I used it freely enough. 

19. Sir Guy, of Warwick, who slew Colbrand tne Giant, the 
Danish champion, in the presence of Athelstan, as described by 
Drayton in his PolyolhUm. 

22. Let me ... again. ** Spoken like a beefeater. The gentle 
dulness of Mr. Collier's MS. Corrector led him to substitute 
* queen ' for * chine ' " (Wright). The chine is the backbone of 
an animal, here of an ox ; Wright's •* beefeater" is particularly 
happy since the yeomen of the guard were called ** beefeaters." 

24. And that ... cow. Staunton, who would read "my cow," 
says, "The expression *my cow, God save her !' or, *my mare, 
God save her ! ' or, * my sow, God bless her ! ' appears to have 
been proverbial "... And Dyce adds from a writer in the Literary 
Gazette for January 25, 1862 ... "Plausible as the alteration 
seems" [viz. that of crown for cow proposed by Collier's MS. 
Corrector], "its value is annihilated by the fact ... that a phrase 
evidently identical with that used by Shakespeare (or Fletcher), 
in the passage in question, exists and is in use to this day in the 
south of England. ' Oh ! I would not do that for a cow, save 
her tail,* may still be heard in the mouths of the vulgar in 
Devonshire"... 

29. Moorflelds, where the trainbands, the militia of the day, 
were exercised in their drill, and of course attended by a vast 
concourse of the rabble. 



176 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [act v. 

31. a brazier ** was both a worker in brass and a portable fire- 
place " (Wright) : by Ms face, to judge by his fiery complexion. 

31, 2. the dog-days, the hottest days in the year; so called 
because Canicula, or Sirius, the dog star, then reigned in the 
ascendant. 

33. the line, the equinoctial line, where the heat is intense : 
fire-drake, used for *'a fiery dragon, a meteor, and a sort of fire- 
work " (Dyce, Olo88. ). Here, as is seen from 1. 45, the second 
of these senses is intended. 

35. discluuged against me, let fly at me, as a fire-arm would 
do ; i.e. each time I struck him I gave him a bloody nose. 

35, 6. a mortar- piece, what we should now call a mortavj a wide- 
mouthed piece of ordnance for discharging shells, originally so 
named from its resemblance to a mortar for pounding sub- 
stances in : to blow us, 8c, into the air. 

36. a liaberdaslier's ... wit. Malone quotes from Jonson's 
McLffnetic Lady, ''and all haberdashers of small wit," where the 
meaning no doubt is petty traders in wit, as just before, in 
reference to poets, we are told "we have divers that drive that 
trade," «c. poetry. But this does not seem to me to justify 
Wright's explanation here, *'who dealt in small wit, and had a 
ready tongue. " 

37. pinked porringer, cap "moulded on a porringer,'* i.e. por- 
ridge bowl, as Petruchio says in T. S. iv. 3. 64, and with its 
edges stamped or cut out in notches. Schmidt, followed by 
Skeat, e^^lains pinked as "reticulated and pierced with small 
holes" ; Wright as "pinked with eyelet holes." 

38. 9. for kindltng ... state, for being such a political fire-brand. 

40. * Clubs ! ' the usual cry by which the prentices of the city 
were rallied to a disturbance in the streets with a view to their 
parting the rioters, though their clubs, or truncheons, were often 
used to raise a fray. 

41. draw to her succour, come together to help her ; pro- 
bably with a pun on draw, in the sense of drawing a weapon. 

41, 2. the hope ... Strand, the dlite, the picked prentices, of the 
Strand. 

42. where ... quartered, in which quarter of the city she 
lived : fell on, attacked me. 

42, 3. I made ... place, I was not to be beaten back. 

43, 4. at length ... to me, at last they got within the length 
of a broorastaff {i.e, the handle of a broom) of me. 



sciansiv.] NOTES. 177 

45. loose Bbot, random marksmen, young scamps ready to pelt 
anyone ; a sbot was of old a foot- or horse-soldier armed with a 
gun in distinction from one armed with a pike ; cp. 1 H, VI, 
i. 4. 53, " Wherefore a guard of chosen aliot 1 had " ; and Peele, 
Battle of Alcazar, iv. 1. 67, ''Hamet, my brother, with a thou- 
sand aJiot On horseback." 

45, 6. that I was ... in, that I was glad to retire without 
further assertion of my honour : win the work, carry the forti- 
fication. 

49. bitten apples, apples that had already been gnawed and 
thrown away. 

49-51. that no audience . . . endnre. " The allusion," says Dyce, 
''is, I believe, to certain puritanical congregations: one of the 
characters in Jonson's Alchemist is named 'Tribulation Whole- 
some, a pastor of Amsterdam * ; and Mr. Grant White notices that 
'within the memory of men now livins "Tribulation" was a 
common name among New-England families of Puritan descent.' 
Steevens observes ; ' I can easily conceive that the turbulence of 
the most clamorous theatre has been exceeded by the bellowings 
of puritanism against surplices and farthingales. ...The phrase 
dear brothers is very plainly used to point out some fraternity of 
canters allied to the TrihvkUion both in pursuits and manners, 
by tempestuous zeal and consummate ignorance. * " ... This idea 
of an allusion to puritanical congregations, originally due to 
Johnson, is ridiculed by some editors ; but no other explanation 
of the passage at all satisfactory has yet been given ; limbs of 
Umehonse, young imps from Limehouse, a k>w quarter of 
Lfondon ; the full phrase is "limbs of the devil." 

51, 2. in Umbo Patmm, in prison. ' ' The linibus patrum, in the 
language of churchmen, was the place bordering on hell, where 
the saints of the Old Testament remained till Christ's descent 
into hell " (Schmidt). The word linibus means border, and the 
original phrase was in limbo ; " the word limbo" says Skeat, 
" came to be used as a nominative all the more readily, because 
the Italian word is limbo," 

53. besides ... come, besides the flogging which is in store 
for them ; a running banquet, in its literal sense, is either a hasty 
banquet in contrast with a regular or protracted meal, or, as 
here, what we now call 'dessert,' and "in this case," as Rolfe 
remarks, " a whipping was to be the dessert of the rioters after 
their regular course m Limbo," 

54. Heroy o' me, a petty oath, originally ' God have mercy on 



me.' 



55. grow, increase in number. 



178 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [aot v. 

57. Te liave ... liand, a pretty piece of business you have made 
of this ! So we say a man is a good hand at a thing. Cp. Gor, 
iv. 6. 117> " You have made fair handsy ... you have crafted 
fair ! " 

58. a trim rabUe, a nice lot of roughs. 

59. the 8alnirb8, where the dregs of the populace lived. 

60. Great store, abundance. 

63. Not ... a-pieces, without being torn to pieces ; we still use 
the phrase a-piece, but not a-piecea, 

64. role, control, keep in order. 

65. 6. I'll lay... heels, I'll bundle you off to prison; cp. 
ii. H, IV, i* 2. 141, ** To punish you by the heels would amend the 
attention of your ears." 

67. round, heavy, rigorous. 

68. baiUng of bombards may mean either 'broaching hogs- 
heads (of liquor),' or * drinking heavily from hogsheads ' ; in the 
former, the sense will be that of worrying, as dogs worry bears, 
etc., in the latter that of taking refreshment ; the word in either 
case being the causal of bUe; bombards were large leathern 
vessels for carrying liquors ; &o in I H, JV, ii. 2. 497, the Prince 
caUs Falstaff *' that huge bombard of sack." 

72. the troop, the procession. 

73. A Marshalsea ... months, a prison that shall keep ^ou well 
employed for the next two months. The Marshalsea prison was 
in Southwark. 

74. great, fat. 

76. camlet, a light stuff in which wool is the principal mate- 
rial ; '* the ultimate origin [of the word] is obscure ; at the 
earliest known date the word was associated (bv Europeans) with 
camel, as if the stuff was made of camel's hair '' ... (Murray, £ng. 
Diet,) : get up ... rail, get down from the railing. 

77. pec*, or pick, t.e. pitch ; cp. Gor, i. 1. 204, " as high As I 
could pick my lance." 

Scene V. 

Stage Direotion. standing-bowls, bowls elevated on 
pedestals. 

5. Vj noble partners, i,e, the other two sponsors. 

7. laid up, stored up. 



SCENE v.] NOTES. 179 

12. gossipB, sponsors; the word literally means 'related in 
God,' t.e. by the ceremony of christening : prodigal, sc, in their 
gifts. The Archbishop gave a standing cup of gold ; the Duchess 
of Norfolk a standing cup of gold, fretted with pearl ; the 
Marchioness of Dorset three gilt bowls, pounced (».e. perforated) 
with a cover, and the Marchioness of Exeter three standing- 
bowls, graven, all gilt, with a cover. 

14. Wben she ... Kngltsh, when she knows enough English to 
do so. 

17. still, ever. 

21. can... goodness, can expect to live long enough to behold, 
etc. 

23. Saba, the queen of Sheba, who came to test the wisdom of 
Solomon, of which she had heard so much ; see 1 Kinga, L, etc. 

26. Tliat mould up, that go to the completion of. 

27. attend, belong to, wait upon like handmaids. 
31. beaten, ac, by the tempest. 

34. Under his own vine, from Micah, iv. 4, " But they shall sit 
every man under his vine and under his fig-tree ; and none shall 
make them afraid." 

37. shall read, shall learn. 

35. And by those ...blood, and rest their claim to greatness 
upon following those ways, not upon being of high descent. 

40. the maiden phceniz, that knows no mate, and that is bom 
again out of her own ashes ; cp. Samson Agonistes, 1703-5, " Like 
that self -begotten bird In the Arabian woods embost, That no 
second knows nor third." 

42. admiration, wonder. 

43. one, «c. James I. 

44. this doad of darkness, this world in which we wander for 
a time in darkness until made sharers in the light of heaven. 

49. grow to him, cling to him as the vine clings to the elm. 

52. new nations. Malone thinks that these lines probably 
allude to the settlement of the colony of Virginia in 1607. 

53. reacb, spread forth. 

56. to the happiness, with the result of happiness to, etc 

59, 60. but she ...virgin. Dyce and Delius punctuate thus, 
" but she must die, — She must, the saints must have her, — ^yet a 
virgin ; A most," etc., which is perhaps an improvement. 



180 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH, [act v. so. v.] 

65. any tbing, i,e, so well worth getting. 

09. lord mayor, " Sir Stephen Pecocke '* (Wright) 

70. your good hretbren, the aldermen and Court of Common 
CouncU. 

74. no man think, let no man think. 

75. Has business, that he has business. 



Epilogue. 

I. ten to one, t.e. long odds. 

5. nangbt, worthless. 

8. All ... bear, aU the fondly anticipated kind words that we 
are likely to hear. 

10. construotion, interpretation, verdict. 

II. For Bucb.. 'em, for the play we have shown them is one 
that deserves this. 

13. aire ours, will be won over to applaud us. 

14. bold, 8C. back. 



j 



INDEX TO NOTES. 



A 

Ado, V. 3. 159. 
Advertise, ii. 4. 178. 
Allegiant, iU. 2. 176. 
Allowed, i. 2. 83. 
Andren, i. 1. 7. 
Attached, 1. 2. 210. 



B 



Baiting, v. 4. 68. 
Banquet, a running, v. 4. 53. 
Beholding, i. 4. 32. 
Bevy, i. 4. 4. 
Bombards, v. 4. 68. 
Book = learning, i. 1. 122. 
Bores (vb.),i 1. 128. 
Bosom (vb.), i. 1. 112. 
Brazier, v. 4. 31. 
Breeches, blistered, i. 3. 31. 



C 



Camlet, v. 4. 76. 
Capable, v. 3. 11. 
Certes, i. 1. 48. 
Chambers, st dir., i. 4. 37. 
Cherubins, 1. 1. 23. 



Cheveril, ii. 3. 32. 
Chiding, iii. 2. 197. 
Chine, v. 4. 22. 
Clinquant, i 1. 19. 
Clubs, V. 4. 40. 
Commend, v. 1. 17. 
Complete, i. 2. 118. 
Condition, i. 2. 19. 
Conjunction, iii. 2. 45. 
Consistory, ii. 4. 92. 
Covent, iv. 2. 19. 



D 



Day and night, by, L 2. 213. 
Demure, i. 2. 167. 



E 

Eagerly, iv. 2. 24. 
Envy, iii 1. 113. 
Exhalation, iii. 2. 226. 



F 



Fire-drake, v. 4. 33. 
Forty, u. 3. 79. 



181 



182 



KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 



G 



Gave me, my mind, v. 3. 109. 
Grossips, y. 5. 12. 
Govermnent, ii. 4. 138. 
Grievance, i. 2. 20. 
Guarded, Prol. 16. 



H 

Habits, iii. 1. 117. 
Happily = haply, iv. 2. 10. 
Hard-ruled, m. 2. 101. 
Hautboys, st. dir., i. 4. 
Holidame, v. 1. 116. 
Hulling, ii. 4. 199. 
Husband, iii. 2. 142. 



Incensed, v. 1. 43. 
Indurance, v. 1. 121. 



K 
Keech, i. 1. 55. 



Letters-patents, iiL 2. 250. 

Level (sb.), i. 2. 2. 

Limbs of Limehouse, v. 4. 50. 

Loose, ii. 1. 127. 

Lop (sb.), i. 2. 96. 

Louvre, the, i. 3. 23. 



M 

Madams, the, i. 1. 23. 
Manage, the, v. 3. 24. 
Memorized, iii 2. 52. 



Model, iv. 2. 132. 
Moiety, i. 2. 12. 
Motley, ProL 16. 



N 
No = much, IL 2. 80. 





Office, i. 1. 44. 
Orpheus, iii. 1. 3. 



Pageants, iv. 1. 11. 
Panging (trs. vb.), ii. 3. 15. 
Papers (vb.), i. 1. 79. 
Paris-sarden, v. 4. 2. 
Parted, iv. 1. 92. 
Passages, iL 4. 165. 
Peck, V. 4. 77. 
Phoenix, v. 5. 40. 
Pinked porringer, v. 4. 37. 
Primero, v. 1. 7. 
Praemunire, iii. 2. 338. 



Q 
Quarrel, ii. 3. 14. 



Refuse, iL 4. 82. 
Repeat, i. 2. 13. 
Require, ii. 4. 144. 
Rub(sb.), iL L 129. 



INDEX TO NOTES. 



183 



S 



Saba, V. 3. 23. 
Sad, Prol. 3. 
Salute, ii. 3. 9a 
Shot, V. 4. 45. 
Shrouds, iv. 1. 72. 
Simony, iv. 2. 36. 
Sound (vb.), v. 2. 13. 
Spavin, i. 3. 12. 
Spoons, V. 3. 167. 
Springhalt, i. 3. 13. 
Standing-bowls, v. 5. 1. 
Stockings, tall, i. 3. 30. 
Suggests, i. 1. 164. 



Tender (sb.), ii. 3. 56. 
Tender (vb.), ii. 4. 116. 
Tenements, iii. 2. 340. 
Tennis, i. 3. 20. 
Touch, V. 1. 13. 
Trade, v. 1. 36. 
Travail, v. 1. 71. 
Tribulation, v. 4. 49. 



W 

Worship, i. 1. 39. 



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