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Buck. My surveyor is false: the o'er-great

Cardinal

Hath showed him gold. My life is spanned al

ready :

I am the shadow of poor Buckingham,

Whose figure even this instant cloud puts on, By darkening my clear un.-My lord, farewell.

[Exeunt.

Cornets.

SCENE II.-The Council-chamber.

Enter King HENRY, leaning on the Cardinal's shoulder, the Nobles, and Sir THOMAS LOVELL: the Cardinal places himself under the King's feet on his right side.

K. Hen. 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 called before us
That gentleman of Buckingham's in person
I'll hear him his confessions justify;

And point by point the treasons of his master
He shall again relate.

A noise within, crying, 'Room for the Queen I' Enter the QUEEN, ushered by the Dukes of NORFOLK and SUFFOLK: she kneels. The KING riseth from his state, takes her up, kisses, and placeth her by him.

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

K. Hen. Arise, and take place by us :-half your

suit

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

Q. Kath.

That

you

Thank your majesty.

would love yourself, and in that love

Not unconsidered leave your honour, nor
The dignity of your office, is the point

Of my petition.

K. Hen.

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 com

missions

Sent down among 'em, which hath flawed the

heart

Of all 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,
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, compelled 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.

K. Hen.

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,

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 frame Things, that are known alike, which are not whole

some

To those which would not know them, and yet

must

These exactions

Perforce be their acquaintance.
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

They are devised by you; or else you suffer
Too hard an exclamation.

K. Hen.

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 boldened
Under your promised pardon. The subjects' grief
Comes 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:

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

That tractable obedience is a slave

To each incensed will. I would, your highness

Would give it quick consideration; for

There is no primer business.

K. Hen.

This is against our pleasure.

Wol.

By my life,

And for me,

I have no further gone in this, than by

A single voice, and that not passed me but
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.

Our necessary actions in the fear

Το cope

We must not stint

malicious censurers, which ever, As ravenous fishes, do a vessel follow

That is new-trimmed, but benefit no further
Than vainly longing. What we oft do best,
By sick interpreters, once weak ones, is
Not ours, or not allowed; what worst, as oft,
Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up

For our best action. If we shall stand still,

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