Buck. I read in's looks Matter against me, and his eye revil'd Me as his abject object; at this inftant He bores me with fome trick, he's gone to th' King: Nor. Stay, my lord; And let your reafon with your choler question Buck. I'll to the King, And from a mouth of honour quite cry down. Nor. Be advis'd; Heat not a furnace for your foe fo hot, More stronger to dire& you than yourfelf; Buck. Sir, I'm thankful to you, and I'll go along By your prescription; but this top proud fellow, From fincere motions; by intelligence, And proofs as clear as founts in July, when To be corrupt and treasonous. Nr. Say not, treafonqus. [ftrong Buck. To th' King I'll fay't, and make my vouch as As fhore of rock. Attend. This holy fox, As he is fubtle; and as prone to mifchief, As As able to perform't ;) his mind and place That fwallow'd fo much treasure, and like a glafs Nor. Faith, and fo it did. [dinal Buck. Pray give me favour, Sir.This cunning CarThe articles o'th' combination drew, As himself pleas'd; and they were ratify'd, As he cry'd, let it be to as much end, As give a crutch to th' dead. But our Court-Cardinal Nor. I am forry To hear this of him; and could wish, you were Buck. No, not a syllable: I do pronounce him in that very fhape, Enter Enter Brandon, a Serjeant at Arms before him, and two or three of the guard. Bran. Your office, Serjeant; execute it. My lord the Duke of Buckingham, and Earl Buck. Lo you, my lord, The net has fall'n upon me; I fhall perish Bran. I am forry 1 To fee you ta'en from liberty, to look on The business prefent. You fhall to th' Tower. 'Tis his Highness' pleasure Buck. It will help me nothing To plead mine innocence; for that dye is on me, my lord Aberga'ny, fare ye well. Bran. Nay, he must bear you company. The King Is pleas'd you fhall to th' Tower, 'till you know How he determines further. Aber. As the Duke said, The will of heav'n be done; and the King's pleasure Bran. Here is a warrant from The King, t'attach lord Montague; and the bodies And Gilbert Peck, his chancellor. (5) (5) One Gilbert Peck, his Counsellour.] So the Old Copies have it, but, when I publifh'd my SHAKESPEARE reftor'd, I, from the Authorities of Hall and Holingfhead, chang'd it to Chancellour. And our Poet himself, in the Beginning of the fecond Act vouches for this Correction. At which; appear'd against him his Surveyor, Sir Gilbert Peck his Chancellor Mr. Pope, in his last Edition, has vouchsaf'd to embrace my Correction. i Buck, Buck. So, fo; These are the limbs o'th' plot: no more, I hope? Buck. Nicholas Hopkins? (6) Bran. He. Buck. My furveyor is falfe, the o'er-great Cardinal [Exe. SCENE changes to the Council-Chamber. Cornet: Enter King Henry, leaning on the Cardinal's foulder; the Nobles, and Sir Thomas Lovel; the Cardinal places himself under the King's feet, on his right fide. King. M Y life it felf, and the beft heart of it, [level To you And point by point the treafons of his mafter A noife within, crying, Room for the Queen. Enter the Queen. Nay, we must longer kneel; I am a fuitor. King. Arife, and take your place by us; half your fuit Never name to us; you have half our power: The other moiety, ere you ask, is given; Queen. Thank your Majefty. (6) Michael Hopkins ?] So all the Old Copies had it; and fo Mr. Rowe and Mr. Pope from them. But here again, by the Help of the Chronicles, I have formerly given the true Reading; which Mr. Pope has likewife adopted in his laft Edition. That you King. Lady mine, proceed. Queen. I am follicited, not by a few, And thofe of true condition, that your fubjects Are in great grievance. There have been commiffion's [To Wolfey. (My good lord Cardinal) they vent reproaches Moft bitterly on you, as putter onpudo Of these exactions; yet the King our mafter (Whofe honour heav'n fhield from foil) ev'n he escapes not Language unmannerly yea fuch, which breaks The fides of loyalty, and almost appears In loud rebellion. Nor. Not almoft appears, It doth appear; for upon thefe taxations, King. Taxation? Wherein? and what taxation? my lord Cardinal, Know you of this taxation? Wol. Pleafe you, Sif, I know but of a fingle part in ought Pertains to th' ftate, and front but in that file Where others tell fteps with me. Queen. No, my lord, You know no more than others: but you frame Most |