King Henry the Eighth.

Cardinal Wolsey. Cardinal Campeius.
Capucius, Ambassador from the Emperor, Charles V.
Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury.

Duke of Norfolk. Duke of Buckingham.
Duke of Suffolk. Earl of Surrey.
Lord Chamberlain. Lord Chancellor.

Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester.

Bishop of Lincoln. Lord Abergavenny. Lord Sands.
Sir Henry Guildford. Sir Thomas Lovell.

Sir Anthony Denny. Sir Nicholas Vaux.
Secretaries to Wolsey.

Cromwell, Servant to Wolsey.

Griffith, Gentleman-Usher to Queen Katharine.
Three other Gentlemen.

Doctor Butts, Physician to the King.

Garter, King at Arms.

Surveyor to the Duke of Buckingham.

Brandon, and a Sergeant at Arms.

Door-keeper of the Council-Chamber. Porter, and his Man.

Page to Gardiner. A Crier.

Queen Katharine, 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; Spirits which appear to her; Scribes, Officers, Guards, and other Attendants.

SCENE, chiefly in London and Westminster; once at Kimbolton.

Surv.

He was brought to this

Sir, a Chartreux friar,

How know'st thou this?

By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Hopkins.
K. Hen. What was that Hopkins?
Surv.
His confessor; who fed him every minute

With words of sovereignty.

K. Hen.

Surv. Not long before your highness sped to

France,

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The duke being at the Rose, within the parish
Saint Lawrence Poultney, did of me demand
What was the speech amongst 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,
Hath sent to me, wishing me to permit
John de la Court, 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 ensu'd,-Neither the king, nor his
heirs,

(Tell you the duke) shall prosper: bid him strive To gain the love of the commonalty; the duke Shall govern England.

Q. Kath.

If I know you well,

You were the duke's surveyor, and lost your office On the complaint o' the tenants: Take good heed,

4

* The duke being at the Rose, &c.] This house was purchased about the year 1561, by Richard Hill, sometime master of the Merchant Tailors company, and is now the Merchant Tailors school, in Suffolk-lane.

You charge not in your spleen a noble person,
And spoil your nobler soul! I say, take heed;
Yes, heartily beseech you.

K. Hen. Go forward.

Surv.

Let him on:

On my soul, I'll speak but truth.

I told my lord the duke, By the devil's illusions The monk might be deceiv'd; and that was dang'rous for him,

To ruminate on this so far, until

It forg'd him some design, which, being believ'd,
It was much like to do: He answer'd, 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.

K. Hen.

Ha! what, so rank? Ah, ha! There's mischief in this man:-Canst thou say

Being at Greenwich,

After your highness had reprov'd the duke

About sir William Blomer,

K. Hen.

I remember,

Of such a time:-Being my servant sworn,
The duke retain'd 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 play'd The part my father meant to act upon

The usurper Richard: who, being at Salisbury, Made suit to come in his presence; which if granted, As he made semblance of his duty, would

Have put his knife into him.

so rank?] Rank weeds, are weeds grown up to great height and strength. What, says the King, was he advanced to this pitch? JOHNSON.

K. Hen.

A giant traitor!

Wol. Now, madam, may his highness live in

freedom,

And this man out of prison?

Q. Kath.

God mend all!

K. Hen. 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 his breast, mounting his eyes, He did discharge a horrible oath; whose tenour Was,-Were he evil us'd, he would out-go His father, by as much as a performance Does an irresolute purpose.

K. Hen.

There's his period,

To sheath his knife in us. He is attach'd;
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.

SCENE III.

A Room in the Palace.

[Exeunt.

Enter the Lord Chamberlain, and Lord SANDS. Cham. Is it possible, the spells of France should juggle

Men into such strange mysteries??

6 By day and night,] This, I believe, was a phrase anciently signifying-at all times, every way, completely. The king's words, however, by some criticks have been considered as an adjuration. I do not pretend to have determined the exact force of them. STEEVENS.

7 Is it possible, the spells of France should juggle

Men into such strange mysteries?] i. e. those fantastick manners and fashions of the French, which had operated as spells cr enchantments.

Sands.

Though they be never so ridiculous,

New customs,

Nay, let them be unmanly, yet are follow'd.

Cham. As far as 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 them, you would swear directly, Their very noses had been counsellors

To Pepin, or Clotharius, they keep state so.

Sand. They have all new legs, and lame ones; one would take it,

That never saw them pace before, the spavin,
A springhalt reign'd among them.

Cham.

Death! my lord,

Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too,

That, sure, they have worn out christendom. How

now?

What news, sir Thomas Lovell?

Lov.

Enter Sir THOMAS LOVELL.

'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 travell'd gallants, That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors. Cham. I am 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 these remnants

A fit or two o'the face;] A fit of the face is what we now term a grimace, an artificial cast of the countenance.

9 A springhalt-] The stringhalt, or springhalt, is a disease incident to horses, which gives them a convulsive motion in thei: paces.