Nay, wherefore should they, since that I myself
Find in myself no pity to myself?

Methought, the souls of all that I had murder'd,
Came to my tent: and every one did threat
To-morrow's vengeance on the head of Richard.
Enter RATCLIFF.

Rat. My lord,

K. Rich. Who's there?

Rat. Ratcliff, my lord; 'tis I. The early village cock

Hath twice done salutation to the morn;
Your friends are up, and buckle on their armour.
K. Rich. O, Ratcliff, I have dream'd a fearful
dream;-

What thinkest thou, will our friends prove all true?
Rat. No doubt, my lord.
K. Rich.
Ratcliff, I fear, I fear.-
Rat. Nay, good my lord, be not afraid of shadows.
K. Rich. By the apostle Paul, shadows to-night
Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard,
Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers,
Armed in proof, and led by shallow Richmond.
It is not yet near day. Come, go with me;
Under our tents I'll play the eaves-dropper,
To hear if any mean to shrink from me.

[Exeunt KING RICHARD and RATCLIFF. RICHMOND wakes. Enter OXFORD and others. Lords. Good morrow, Richmond.

Richm. 'Cry mercy, lords, and watchful gentlemen, That you have ta'en a tardy sluggard here. Lords. How have you slept, my lord? Richm. The sweetest sleep, and fairest-boding dreams,

That ever enter'd in a drowsy head,

Have I since your departure had, my lords. Methought, their souls, whose bodies Richard mur

der'd,

Came to my tent, and cried-On! victory!

I promise you, my heart is very jocund
In the remembrance of so fair a dream.
How far into the morning is it, lords?
Lords. Upon the stroke of four.
Richm. Why, then 'tis time to arm and give direction.
[He advances towards the troops.
More than I have said, loving countrymen,
The leisure and enforcement of the time
Forbids to dwell on yet remember this,-
God, and our good cause, fight upon our side;
The prayers of holy saints, and wronged souls,
Like high-rear'd bulwarks, stand before our faces;
Richard except, those whom we fight against,
Had rather have us win, than him they follow.
For what is he they follow? truly, gentlemen,
A bloody tyraut, and a homicide;

One rais'd in blood, and one in blood establish'd;
One that made means to come by what he hath,
And slaughter'd those that were the means to help
him;

A base foul stone, made precious by the foil
Of England's chair, where he is falsely set;
One that hath ever been God's enemy:
Then, if you fight against God's enemy,
God will, in justice, ward you as his soldiers;
If you do sweat to put a tyrant down,
You sleep in peace, the tyrant being slain;
If you do fight against your country's foes,
Your country's fat shall pay your pains the hire;
If you do fight in safeguard of your lives,
Your wives shall welcome home the conquerors;
If you do free your children from the sword,
Your children's children quit it in your age.
Then, in the name of God, and all these rights,
Advance your standards, draw your willing swords.
For me the ransom of my bold attempt
Shall be this cold corpse on the earth's cold face;
But, if I thrive, the gain of my attempt
The least of you shall have his share thereof.
Sound drums and trumpets, boldly and cheerfully!
God, and Saint George! Richmond and victory!

[Exeunt.

Re-enter KING RICHARD, RATCLIFF, Attendants, and Forces.

K. Rich. What said Northumberland, as touching Richmond?

Rat. That he was never trained up in arms. K.Rich. He said the truth: And what said Surrey then ?

Rat. My lord? K. Rich.

The sun will not be seen to-day: The sky doth frown and lour upon our army. I would, these dewy tears were from the ground. Not shine to-day! why, what is that to me, More than to Richmond? for the self-same heaven, That frowns on me, looks sadly upon him. Enter NORFolk.

Nor. Arm, arm, my lord; the foe vaunts in the field.

K. Rich. Come, bustle, bustle;-caparison my horse;

Call up Lord Stanley, bid him bring his power:
I will lead forth my soldiers to the plain,
And thus my battle shall be ordered.
My forward shall be drawn out all in length,
Consisting equally of horse and foot:
Our archers shall be placed in the midst;
John Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Earl of Surrey,
Shall have the leading of this foot and horse.
They thus directed, we ourselves will follow
In the main battle; whose puissance on either side
Shall be well winged with our chiefest horse.
This, and Saint George to boot!-What think'st thou,
Norfolk ?

Nor. A good direction, warlike sovereign.
This found I on my tent this morning.

[Giving a scroll. K. Rich. Jockey of Norfolk, be not too bold. [Reads. For Dickon thy master is bought and sold.

A thing devised by the enemy.

Go, gentlemen, every man unto his charge:
Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls
Conscience is but a word that cowards use,
Devis'd at first to keep the strong in awe;
Our strong arms be our conscience, swords our law.
March on, join bravely, let us to't pell-mell;
If not to heaven, then hand in hand to hell.-
What shall I say more than I have inferr'd?
Remember whom you are to cope withal;
A sort of vagabonds, rascals, and run-aways,
A scum of Bretagnes, and base lackey peasants,
Whom their o'er-cloyed country vomits forth
To desperate ventures and assur'd destruction.
You sleeping safe, they bring you to unrest:
You having lands, and blessed with beauteous wives,
They would restrain the one, disdain the other;
And who doth lead them, but a paltry fellow,
Long kept in Bretagne at our mother's cost?
A milk-sop, one that never in his life
Felt so much cold as over shoes in snow?
Let's whip these stragglers o'er the seas again;
These famished beggars, weary of their lives;
Who, but for dreaming on this fond exploit,
For want of means, poor rats, had hang'd themselves.
If we be conquer'd, let men conquer us,
And not these bastard Bretagnes, whom our fathers
Have in their own land beaten, bobb'd, and thump'd
And, on record, left them the heirs of shame.
Shall these enjoy our lands? lie with our wives?
Ravish our daughters ?-Hark, I hear their drum.
[Drum afar off.
Fight, gentlemen of England! fight, bold yoemen!
Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head!
Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood.
Amaze the welkin with your broken staves.

Enter a Messenger.
What says Lord Stanley ? Will he bring his power?
Mess. My lord, he doth deny to come."

K. Rich. Off instantly with his son George's head. Nor. My lord, the enemy is pass'd the marsh; After the battle let George Stanley die.

K. Rich. A thousand hearts are great within my
bosom.

Advance our standards, set upon our foes:
Our ancient word of courage, fair Saint George,
Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons!
Upon them! Victory sits on our helms.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-Another part of the field.
Alarums: Excursions. Enter NORFOLK, and
Forces; to him CATESBY.

Cate. Rescue, my Lord of Norfolk, rescue, rescue!
The king enacts more wonders than a man,
Daring an opposite to every danger;

His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights,
Seeking for Richmond in the throat of death:
Rescue, fair lord, or else the day is lost!

Alarum. Enter KING RICHARD.

K. Rich. A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!

Cate. Withdraw, my lord, I'll help you to a horse. K. Rich. Slave, I have set my life upon a cast, And I will stand the hazard of the die :

I think, there be six Richmonds in the field:
Five have I slain to-day, instead of him :-
A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!

[Exeunt.

Alarums. Enter KING RICHARD and RICHMOND; and exeunt, fighting. Retreat, and flourish. Then enter RICHMOND, STANLEY bearing the crown, with divers other Lords, and Forces.

Richm. God, and your arms, be prais'd, victorious friends:

The day is ours, the bloody dog is dead.

Stan. Courageous Richmond, well hast thou acquit thee!

Lo, here this long usurped royalty,
From the dead temples of this bloody wretch
Have I pluck'd off, to grace thy brows withal.
Wear it, enjoy it, and make much of it.

Richm Great God of heaven, say, amen, to all!

But, tell me first, is young George Stanley living P Stan. He is, my lord, and safe in Leicester town: Whither, if it please you, we may now withdraw us.

Richm. What men of name are slain on either side?
Stan. John Duke of Norfolk, Walter Lord Ferrers,
Sir Robert Brakenbury, and Sir William Brandon.
Richm. Inter their bodies as becomes their births.
Proclaim a pardon to the soldiers fled,
That in submission will return to us;
And then, as we have ta'en the sacrament,
We will unite the white rose with the red :-
Smile heaven upon this fair conjunction,
That long hath frown'd upon their enmity!-
What traitor hears me, and says not,-amen?
England hath long been mad, and scarr'd herself;
The brother blindly shed the brother's blood,
The father rashly slaughter'd his own son,
The son, compell'd, been butcher to the sire;
All this divided York and Lancaster,
Divided, in their dire division.-

O, now let Richmond and Elizabeth,
The true succeeders of each royal house,
By God's fair ordinance conjoin together!
And let their heirs (God, if thy will be so)
Enrich the time to come with smooth-fac'd peace,
With smiling plenty, and fair prosperous days!
Abate the edge of traitors, gracious Lord!
That would reduce these bloody days again,
And make poor England weep in streams of blood:
Let them not live to taste this land's increase,
That would with treason wound this fair land's peace.
Now civil wounds are stopp'd, peace lives again;
That she may long live here, God say-Amen!

[Exeunt.

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

KING HENRY THE EIGHTH.
CARDINAL WOLSEY.

CAPUCIUS, Ambassador from the Emperor, Charles V.
CRANMER, Archbishop of Canterbury.

DUKE OF NORFOLK.

DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.

DUKE OF SUFFOLK.

DUKE 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 Katherine.
Three other Gentlemen. Garter King at Arms.
Doctor BUTTS, physician to the King.
Surveyor to the Duke of Buckingham.
BRANLON, and a Sergeant at Arms.
Door-keeper of the Council Chamber.

Porter, and his man. Page to Gardiner. A Crier. QUEEN KATHERINE, 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 Katherine.

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.

PROLOGUE.

I come 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,

The play may pass: if they be still, and willing,
I'll 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 yellow,
Will be deceiv'd: for, gentle hearers, know,
To rank our chosen truth with such a show
As fool and fight is, besides forfeiting
Our own brains, and the opinion that we bring
(To make that only true we now intend),
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 you; think, ye see
The very persons of our noble story,

As they were living; think you see them great,
And follow'd with the general throng, and sweat,
Of thousand friends: then, in a moment, see
How soon this mightiness meets misery!
And, if you can be merry then, I'll say,
A man may weep upon his wedding-day.

-

ACT I.

SCENE I.-London. An Ante-chamber in the Palace.

Enter the DUKE of NORFOLK, at one door: at the other the DUKE of BUCKINGHAM, and the LORD ABERGA

VENNY.

Buck. Good morrow and well met. How have you done,

Since last we saw in France ?

Nor. I thank your grace: Healthful; and ever since a fresh admirer Of what I saw there.

Buck.
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 Arde.

Nor. 'Twixt Guynes and Arde: I was then present, saw them salute on horseback; Beheld them, when they alighted, how they clung In their embracement, as they grew together; Which had they, what four thron'd ones could have weigh'd

Such a compounded one ? Buck.

All the whole time
I was my chamber's prisoner.
Nor.
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 clinquant, all in gold, like heathen gods
Shone down the English; and, to-morrow, they
Made Britain India: ev ery man, that stood
Show'd like a mine. The dwarfish pages were
As cherubims, all gilt; the madams too
Not us'd to toil, did almost sweat to bear
The pride upon them, that their very labour
Was to them as a painting: now this mask
Was cry'd 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
Still him in praise: and being present both,
'Twas said, they saw but one; and no discerner
Durst wag his tongue in censure. When these suns
(For so they phrase them) by their heralds challeng'd
The noble spirits to arme, they did perform
Beyond thought's compass; that former fabulous
story,

Being now seen possible enough, got credit,
That Bevis was believ'd.

Buck.

O, you go far.

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

Buck.

Who did guide,
I mean, who set the body and the limbs
Of this great sport together, as you guess?
Nor. One, certes, that promises no element
In such a business.

Buck.
I pray you, who, my lord?
Nor. All this was order'd by the good discretion
Of the right reverend cardinal of York.

Surely, sir,

Buck. The devil speed him! no man's pie is free'd 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. There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends: For, being not propp'd by ancestry, (whose gruce Chalks successors their way,) nor call'd upon 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. Aber.

I cannot tell

What heaven hath given him, let some graver eye Pierce into that: but I can see his pride

Peep through each part of him: Whence has he that ?

If not from hell, the devil is a niggard;
Or has given all before, and he begins
A new hell in himself.

Buck.

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? He makes up the file
Of all the gentry; for the most part such
Too, whom as great a charge as little honour
He meant to lay upon : and his own letter,
The honourable board of council out,

Must fetch him in the papers._

I do know

Aber. Kinsmen of mine, three at least, that have

'Like it, your grace,

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
Together to consider further, 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, it may be said,
It reaches far; and where 'twill not extend,
Thither he darts it. Bosom up my counsel,
You'll find it wholesome. Lo, where comes that
rock,

That I advise your shunning.

Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, (the purse borne before him,) certain of the Guard, and Two Secretaries with papers. The CARDINAL in his passage fixeth his eye on BUCKINGHAM, and BUCKINGHAM on him, both full of disdain.

Wol. The duke of Buckingham's surveyor ? ha? Where's his examination ? 1 Sec.

Here, so please you.

Wol. Is he in person ready? 1 Secr.

Ay, please your grace. Wol. Well, we shall then know more: and Buckingham

Shall lessen his big look.

[Exeunt WOLSEY, and Train. Buck. This butcher's cur is venom-mouth'd, and I Have not the power to muzzle him: therefore, best Not wake him in his slumber. A beggar's hook Out-worths a noble's blood.

Nor. Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot 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 it run o'er, In seeming to augment it, wastes it? Be advis'd:

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.

'Faith, and so it did. Buck. Pray, give me favour, sir. cardinal

The articles o' the combination drew,

This cunning

As himself pleas'd; and they were ratified,
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
England and France, might, through their amity,
Breed him some prejudice; for from this league
Peep'd harms that menac'd him: he privily
Deals with our cardinal; and, as I trow,-
Which I do well: for, I am sure, the emperor
Paid ere he promis'd; whereby his suit was granted
Ere it was ask'd-but when the way was made,
And pav'd with gold, the emperor thus desir'd;
That he would please to alter the king's course,
And break the aforesaid peace. Let the king know
(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.

Buck.

No, not a syllable;

Bran.

Here is a warrant from

Buck.

Bran.

O, Nicholas Hopkins. He.

Buck. My surveyor is false; the o'er-great card nal

Hath show'd him gold: my life is spann'd already:
I am the shadow of poor Buckingham:
Whose figure even this instant cloud puts out,
By dark'ning my clear sun.-My lord, farewell,
[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-The Council-Chamber.

Cornets. Enter KING HENRY, CARDINAL WOLSEY, the Lords of the Council, SIR THOMAS LOVELL, Officers, and Attendants. The KING enters, leaning on the CARDINAL's shoulder.

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-charg'd confederacy, and give thanks To you that chok'd it.-Let be call'd 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.

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 Sent down among them, which have flaw'd 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 es

capes 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, compell'd 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 P-My Lord Cardinal,
You that are blam'd 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 Perforce be their acquaintance. These exactions Whereof my sovereign would have note, they are Most pestilent to the hearing; and, to bear them, The back is sacrifice to the load. They say,

Too hard an exclamation.

Wol.

By my life,

And for me,

I have no further gone in this, than by
A single voice; and that not pass'd me, but
By learned approbation of the judges.

If I am traduc'd by 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,
As ravenous fishes, do a vessel follow

That is new trimm'd; but benefit no further
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 where we sit, or sit State statues only.

K. Hen.

Things done well,

And with a care, exempt themselves from fear;
Things done without example, in their issue
Are to be fear'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! 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 question'd, send our letters, with
Free pardon to each man that has denied
The force of this commission: pray, look to't;
I put it to your care.
Wol.

A word with you.

Let there be letters writ to every Of the king's grace and pardon.

mons

[To the Secretary. shire,

The griev'd com

Yet see,

When these so noble benefits shall prove

Not well dispos'd, 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 enroll'd 'mongst wonders, and when we
Almost with ravish'd list'ning, could not find
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

Surv. First, it was usual with him, every day It would infect his speech,-That if the king Should without issue die, he'd carry it so To make the sceptre his: these very words I have heard him utter to his son-in-law, Lord Aberga'ny; to whom by oath he menac'd Revenge upon the cardinal.

Wol.

Please your highness, note This dangerous conception in this point. Not friended by his wish, to your high person His will is most maliguant; and it stretches Beyond you, to friends.

your

Q. Kath. Deliver all with charity.

K. Hen.

My learn'd Lord Cardinal,

Speak on:

How grounded he is title to the crown,

Upou our fail? To this point hast thou heard him At any time speak aught?

Surv.

He was brought to this

By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Hopkins.
K. Hen. What was that Hopkins?
Surv.

Sir, a Chartreux friar,

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

K. Hen.
How know'st thou this ?
Surv. Not long before your highness sped to France,
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 of 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

On my soul, I'll speak but truth.

I told my lord the duke, by the devil's illusious
The monk might be deceiv'd: and that 'twas 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 fur-
ther ?

Surv. I can, my liege.

K. Hen.

Surv.

Proceed.

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.
K. Hen.
A giant traitor!
Wol. Now, madam, may his highness live in free.
dom,

And this man out of prison ?