Cham. An't please your grace, Sir Thomas Bul

len's daughter,

The Viscount Rochford, one of her highness' women. K. Hen. By heaven, she is a dainty one.-Sweetheart,

I were unmannerly, to take you out,

And not to kiss you.-A health, gentlemen,
Let it go round.

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

Lov.

Wol.

Yes, my lord.

Your grace,

I fear, with dancing is a little heated".
K. Hen. I fear, too much.

Wol.

In the next chamber.

There's fresher air, my lord,

6 A kiss was anciently the established fee of a lady's partner. Thus in A Dialogue between Custom and Veritie, concerning the Use and Abuse of Dauncing and Minstrelsie, blk. I. printed by John Allde, no date :

But some reply, what foole would daunce

If that when daunce is doon

He may not have at ladyes lips

That which in daunce he woon.'

The custom is still prevalent among country people in many parts of the kingdom.

7 According to Cavendish, the king, on discovering himself, being desired by Wolsey to take his place under the state or seat of honour, said that he would go first and shift his apparel, and so departed, and went straight into my lord's bedchamber, where a great fire was made and prepared for him, and there new apparelled him with rich and princely garments. And in the time of the king's absence the dishes of the banquet were cleane taken up, and the tables spread with new and sweet perfumed cloths. Then the king took his seat under the cloth of estate, commanding no man to remove, but set still as they did before. Then in came a new banquet before the king's majesty, and to all the rest through the tables, wherein, I suppose were served two hundred dishes or above. Thus passed they forth the whole night with banquetting,' &c.

K. Hen. Lead in your ladies, every one. -Sweet

partner,

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 them once again; and then let's dream Who's best in favour.-Let the musick knock it3. [Exeunt, with trumpets.

ACT II.

SCENE I. A Street.

Enter two Gentlemen, meeting.

0,-God save you!

1 Gent. Whither away so fast? 2 Gent. 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.

1 Gent. Yes, indeed, was I.

2 Gent.

Were you there?

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.

8 Thus in Antonio and Mellida:

So are a number more.

Fla. Faith the song will seem to come off hardly.

Catz. Troth, not a whit, if you seem to come off quickly.

:

Fla. Pert Catzo, knock it then.'

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 Court,
Confessor to him; with that devil-monk,
Hopkins, that made this mischief.

2 Gent.

That fed him with his prophecies?

1 Gent.

That was he,

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 forgotten1.

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.

1 Either produced no effect, or produced only ineffectual pity.

'Tis likely,

The cardinal is the end of this.

1 Gent.

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.

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 2;

1 Gent. Stay there, sir, And see the noble ruin'd man you speak of.

Enter BUCKINGHAM from his arraignment; Tipstaves before him, the axe with the edge towards him; halberds on each side: with him, SIR THOMAS LOVELL, SIR NICHOLAS VAUX, SIR WILLIAM SANDS3, and common People.

2 Gent. Let's stand close, and behold him. Buck. All good people, You that thus far have come to pity me,

2 The report in the Old Year Book, referred to above, thus describes him:- Car il fut tres noble prince et prudent, et mirror de tout courtesie.'

3 The old copy reads 'Sir Walter.' The correction is justified by Holinshed. Sir William Sands was at this time (May, 1521) only a knight, not being created Lord Sands till April 27, 1527.

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.
Shakspeare probably did not know that he was the same person
whom he has already introduced with that title. The error
arose by placing the king's visit to Wolsey (at which time Sir
William was Lord Sands) and Buckingham's condemnation in
the same year; whereas the visit was made some years after-
wards.

4 Evils are forcia. So in Measure for Measure, Act ii. Sc. 2:

having waste ground enough,

Shall we desire to raze the sanctuary,
And pitch our evils there?'

5 Thus in Lord Sterline's Darius :

'Scarce was the lasting last divorcement made

Betwixt the bodie and the soule.'

• Johnson observes with great truth, that these lines are remarkably tender and pathetic.