now strive for.” But that that was truly divine in him, was that he had the for. tune of a true Christian as well as of a great king, in living exercised and dying repentant; so as he had an happy warfare in both conflicts, both of sin and the oss.

cr He was born at Pembroke Castle, and lieth buried at Westminster in one of the stateliest and daintiest monuments of Europe, both for the chapel and for the sepulchre. So that he dwelleth more richly dead, in the monument of his tomb, than he did alive in Richmond, or any of his palaces. I could wish he did the like in this monument of his fame.


SCENE. A Street.
Enter Two Gentlemen, meeting.

I Gent. Whither away so fast !

2 Gent. O,-God save you!
Even to the hall, to hear what shall become
Of the great duke of Buckingham

1 Gent. I'll save you
That labour, sir. All's now done, but the ceremony
Of bringing back the prisoner.

2 Gent. Were you there?

1 Gent. Yes, indeed, was I.

2 Gent. Pray speak what has happen'd.
1 Gent. You may guess quickly what.
2 Gent. Is he found guilty?

1 Gent. Yes, truly is he, and condemn'd upon it.

2 Gent. I am sorry for 't.

1 Gent. So are a number more.

2 Gent. But, pray, how pass'd it !

1 Gent. I'll tell you in a little. The great duke
Came to the bar; where to his accusations
He pleaded still, not guilty, and alleg'd
Many sharp reasons to defeat the law.
The king's attorney, on the contrary,
Urg'd on the examinations, proofs, confessions
Of divers witnesses; which the duke desir'd
To have brought, vivá voce, to his face:
At which appear'd against him, his surveyor;
Sir Gilbert Peck, his chancellor; and John Car,
Confessor to him; with that devil-monk,
Hopkins, that made this mischief.

2 Gent. That was he
That fed him with his prophecies?
1 Gent. The same.

All these accus’d 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.
2 Gent. After all this, how did he bear himself?
1 Gent. When he was brought again to the bar, to hear
His knell rung out, his judgment, 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 show'd a most noble patience.
2 Gent. I do not think he fears death.
1 Gent. Sure, he does not,
He never was so womanish; the cause
He may a little grieve at.

2 Gent. Certainly
The cardinal is the end of this.
1 Gent. 'T is likely,

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

2 Gent That trick of state
Was a deep envious one.
1 Gent. At his return,

No doubt he will requite it. This is noted,
And generally, whoever the king favours,
The cardinal instantly will find employment,
And far enough from court too.

2 Gent. All the commons
Hate him perniciously, and, o' my conscience,
Wish him ten fathom deep: this duke as much
They love and dote on; call him bounteous Buckingham,
The mirror of all courtesy.

Enter Buckingham from his arraignment; Tipstaves before him; the are with the
edge towards him; halberds on each side; accompanied with Sir Thomas Lovell, Sir
Micholas Wauw, Sir William Sands, and common people.
1 Gent. Stay there, sir,
And see the noble ruin'd man you speak of.
2 Gent. Let's stand close, and behold him.
JBuck. 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 receiv'd 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, upon the premises, but justice:
But those that 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 world I ne'er hope,
Nor will I sue, although the king have mercies
More than I dare make faults. You few that lov'd 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.—Lead on, o'God's name.

Lov. I do beseech your grace, for charity,
If ever any malice in your heart
Were hid against me, now to forgive me frankly.

Buck. Sir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive you
As I would be forgiven : I forgive all:
There cannot be those numberless offences
'Gainst me that I cannot take peace with:
No black envy shall make my grave.
Commend me to his grace;
And if he speak of Buckingham, pray tell him,
You met him half in heaven: my vows and prayers
Yet are the king's ; and, till my soul forsake,
Shall cry for blessings on him: May he live
Longer than I have time to tell his years 1
Ever belov'd, 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 Vaux,
Who undertakes you to your end.

Wauw. 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,
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 them one day groan for 't.
My noble father, Henry of Buckingham,
Who first rais'd head against usurping Richard,
Flying for succour to his servant Banister,
Being distress'd, was by that wretch betray'd,
And without trial fell; God's peace be with him!
Henry the seventh succeeding, truly pitying
My father's loss, like a most royal prince,
Restor'd 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:
Yet thus far we are one in fortunes, Both
Fell by our servants, by those men we lov'd 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 too, when they once perceive
The least rub in your fortunes, fall away
Like water from ye, never found again
But where they mean to sink ye. All good people,
Pray for me ! I must now forsake ye; the last hour
Of my long weary life is come upon me.

And when you would say something that is sad,
Speak how I fell—I have done; and God forgive me !

[Eveunt Buckingham and Train.

151.--THE TRIAL OF QUEEN KATHARINE. CAvendish. (From the “Life of Wolsey.')

“Ye shall understand, as I said before, that there was a court erected in the Blackfriars in London, where these two cardinals sat for judges. Now will I set you out the manner and order of the court there. First, there was a court placed with tables, benches, and bars, like a consistory, a place judicial (for the judges to sit on). There was also a cloth of estate, under the which sat the king ; and the queen sat some distance beneath the king: under the judges' feet sat the officers of the court. The chief scribe there was Dr. Stephens (who was after bishop of Winchester); the apparitor was one Cooke, most commonly called Cooke of Winchester. Then sat there within the said court, directly before the king and the judges, the archbishop of Canterbury, Doctor Warham, and all the other bishops. Then at both the ends, with a bar made for them, the councillors on both sides. The doctors for the king were Doctor Sampson, that was after bishop of Chichester, and Doctor Bell, who after was bishop of Worcester, with divers other. The proctors on the king's part were Doctor Peter, who was after made the king's chief secretary, and Doctor Tregonell, and divers other.

Now on the other side stood the counsel for the queen, Doctor Fisher, bishop of Rochester, and Doctor Standish, some time a grey friar, and then bishop of St. Asaph in Wales; two notable clerks in divinity, and in especial the bishop of Rochester a very godly man and a devout person, who after suffered death at Tower Hill; the which was greatly lamented through all the foreign universities of Christendom. There was also another ancient doctor, called, as I remember, Doctor Ridley, a very small person in stature, but surely a great and excellent clerk in divinity.

“The court being thus furnished and ordered, the judges commanded the crier to proclaim silence: then was the judges' commission, which they had of the pope, published and read openly before all the audience there assembled; that done, the crier called the king, by the name of “King Henry of England, come into the court,’ &c. With that the king answered and said, ‘Here, my lords.' Then he called also the queen, by the name of ‘Katharine queen of England, come into the court,’ &c.; who made no answer to the same, but rose up incontinent out of her chair, where as she sat ; and because she could not come directly to the king for the distance which severed them, she took pain to go about unto the king, kneeling down at his feet in the sight of all the court and assembly, to whom she said in effect, in broken English, as followeth.“‘Sir, quoth she, “I beseech you for all the loves that hath been between us, and for the love of God, let me have justice and right; take of me some pity and compassion, for I am a poor woman and a stranger born out of your dominion; I have here no assured friend, and much less indifferent counsel; I flee to you as to the head of justice within this realm. Alas! sir, wherein have I offended you, or what occasion of displeasure ? Have I designed against your will and pleasure; intending, as I perceive, to put me from you? I take God and all the world to witness that I have been to you a true, humble, and obedient wife, ever conformable to your will and pleasure, that never said or did anything to the contrary thereof, being always well pleased and contented with all things wherein you had any delight or dalliance, whether it were in little or much ; I nevergrudged in word or countenance, or showed a visage or spark of discontentation. I loved all those whom ye loved only for your sake, whether I had cause or no, and whether they were my friends or my enemies. This twenty years I have been your true wife, or more, and by me ye have had divers children, although it hath pleased God to call them out of this world, which hath been no default in me. “‘And when ye had me at the first, I take God to be my judge, I was a true maid without touch of man; and whether it be true or no, I put it to your conscience. If there be any just cause by the law that ye can allege against me, either of dishonesty or any other impediment to banish and put me from you, I am well content to depart to my great shame aad dishonour; and if there be none, then here I most lowly beseech you let me remain in my former estate, and receive justice at your hands. The king your father was in the time of his reign of such estimation through the world for his excellent wisdom, that he was accounted and called of all men the second Solomon; and my father Ferdinand King of Spain, who was esteemed to be one of the wittiest princes that reigned in Spain many years before were both wise and excellent kings in wisdom and princely behaviour. It is not therefore to be doubted but that they elected and gathered as wise councillors about them as to their high discretions was thought meet. Also, as me seemeth, there was in those days as wise, as well-learned men, and men of as good judgment, as be at this present in both realms, who thought then the marriage between you and me good and lawful; therefore it is a wonder to hear what new inventions are now invented against me, that never intended but honesty, and cause me to stand to the order and judgment of this new court, wherein ye may do me much wrong, if ye intend any cruelty; for ye may condemn me for lack of sufficient answer, having no indifferent counsel, but such as be assigned me, with whose wisdom and learning I am not acquainted. Ye must consider that they cannot be indifferent counsellors for my part which be your subjects, and taken out of your own council before, wherein they be made privy, and dare not, for your displeasure, disobey your will and intent, being once made privy thereto. Therefore, I most humbly require you, in the way of charity, and for the love of God, who is the best judge, to spare me the extremity of this new court, until I may be advertised what way and order my friends in Spain will advise me to take : and if

« ForrigeFortsett »