Lov. I do beseech your grace, for charity, If ever any malice in your heart

Wére 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;

prayers

There cannot be those numberless offences
'Gainst me, I can't 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
Yet are the king's; and, till soul forsake me,
Shall cry for blessings on him: May he live
Longer than I have time to tell his years!
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!

my

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.

Vaux.

Prepare there, The duke is coming: see, the barge be ready; And fit it with such furniture, as suits

The greatness of his

Buck.

person.

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 8:

7 Shakspeare, by this expression, probably meant to make the duke say, No action expressive of malice shall close my life. Envy is elsewhere used by Shakspeare for malice or hatred. Unless with Warburton we read mark my grave;' a very plausible emendation of an error easily made; and which has indeed happened in an instance in King Henry V. Act ii. Sc. 2, where the old copy erroneously reads:

To make the full fraught man, and best endued

With some suspicion.'

The name of the duke of Buckingham most generally known

Yet I am richer than my base accusers,

That never knew what truth meant: I now seal it9; 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 10; for those you make friends,

And give your hearts to, when they once perceive The least rub in your fortunes, fall away

Like water from ye, never found again

was Stafford; it is said that he affected the surname of Bohun, because he was lord high constable of England by inheritance of tenure from the Bohuns. Shakspeare follows Holinshed.

9 I now seal my truth, my loyalty with blood, which blood shall one day make them groan.

10 This expression occurs again in Othello :

There are a kind of men so loose of soul

That in their sleeps will mutter their affairs.'

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.

Farewell:

And when you would say something that is sad 11, Speak how I fell.-I have done; and God forgive me! [Exeunt BUCKINGHAM and Train. 1 Gent. O, this is full of pity!-Sir, it calls, I fear, too many curses on their heads,

That were the authors.

2 Gent.

If the duke be guiltless,

"Tis full of woe: yet I can give you inkling Of an ensuing evil, if it fall,

Greater than this.

1 Gent.

Good angels keep it from us!

Where may it be? You do not doubt my faith, sir? 2 Gent. This secret is so weighty, 'twill require A strong faith 12 to conceal it.

1 Gent.

I do not talk much.

2 Gent.

Let me have it;

I am confident:

You shall, sir: Did you not of late days hear
A buzzing, of a separation

Between the king and Katharine ?

1 Gent.

Yes, but it held 13 not: For when the king once heard it, out of anger He sent command to the lord mayor, straight To stop the rumour, and allay those tongues That durst disperse it.

11 Thus also in King Richard II. :

:

'Tell thou the lamentable tale of me,

And send the hearers weeping to their beds.'

12. Great fidelity.

13 Steevens erroneously explains this passage, saying to hold is to believe: it held not' here rather means it did not sustain itself,' the rumour did not prove true. So in King Richard III. Act ii. Sc. 2:

'Doth the news hold of good King Edward's death?'

But that slander, sir,

2 Gent.
Is found a truth now; for it grows again
Fresher than e'er it was; and held for certain,
The king will venture at it. Either the cardinal,
Or some about him near, have, out of malice
To the good queen possess'd him with a scruple
That will undo her: To confirm this too,
Cardinal Campeius is arriv'd, and lately;
As all think, for this business.

"Tis the cardinal;

1 Gent.
And merely to revenge him on the emperor,
For not bestowing on him, at his asking,
The archbishoprick of Toledo, this is purpos'd.

2 Gent. I think, you have hit the mark: But is't not cruel,

That she should feel the smart of this? The cardinal

Will have his will, and she must fall.

1 Gent.

We are too open here to argue this;
Let's think in private more.

"Tis woful.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. An Antechamber in the Palace.

Enter the Lord Chamberlain, reading a Letter. Cham. My lord,-The horses your lordship sent for, with all the care I had, I saw well chosen, ridden, and furnished. They were young, and handsome; and of the best breed in the north. When they were ready to set out for London, a man of my lord cardinal's, by commission, and main power, took 'em from me; with this reason, -His master would be served before a subject, if not before the king: which stopped our mouths, sir.

Í fear, he will, indeed: Well, let him have them: He will have all, I think.

Enter the Dukes of NORFOLK and Suffolk. Nor. Well met, my good lord chamberlain. Cham. Good day to both your graces.

Suf. How is the king employ'd?

Cham.

I left him private,

What's the cause?

Full of sad thoughts and troubles.

Nor. Cham. It seems, the marriage with his brother's wife Has crept too near his conscience.

Suf.

Has crept too near another lady.

No, his conscience

"Tis so;

Nor. This is the cardinal's doing, the king-cardinal: That blind priest, like the eldest son of fortune, Turns what he list. The king will know him one day. Suf. Pray God, he do! he'll never know himself else.

Nor. How holily he works in all his business! And with what zeal! For, now he has crack'd the league

Between us and the emperor, the queen's great nephew,

He dives into the king's soul; and there scatters
Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience,
Fears, and despairs, and all these for his marriage :
And, out of all these to restore the king,
He counsels a divorce; a loss of her,
That, like a jewel1, has hung twenty years
About his neck, yet never lost her lustre;
Of her, that loves him with that excellence
That angels love good men with; even of her
That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls,
Will bless the king: And is not this course pious?

See The Winter's Tale, Act. ii. Sc. 2, p. 20, note 43.