Enter the King, reading a Schedule?; and LOVELL.
Suf.
The king, the king.
K.Hen. What piles of wealth hath he accumulated
To his own portion! and what expense by the hour
Seems to flow from him! How, i' the name of thrift,
Does he rake this together!-Now, my lords;
Saw you the cardinal?

Nor.

My lord, we have

Stood here observing him: Some strange commotion
Is in his brain: he bites his lip, and starts;
Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground,
Then lays his finger on his temple; straight,
Springs out into fast gait; then, stops again 10,
Strikes his breast hard; and anon, he casts

His eye against the moon: in most strange postures
We have seen him set himself.

K. Hen.

There is a mutiny in his mind.

well be;

It may
This morning
Papers of state he sent me to peruse,

11

As I requir'd: And, wot11 you what I found
There; on my conscience, put unwittingly?
Forsooth, an inventory, thus importing,—
The several parcels of his plate, his treasure,
Rich stuffs, and ornaments of household; which
I find at such proud rate, that it outspeaks
Possession of a subject.

9 That the cardinal gave the king an inventory of his own private wealth, by mistake, and thereby ruined himself, is a known variation from the truth of history. Shakspeare, however, has not injudiciously represented the fall of that great man as owing to an incident which he had once improved to the destruction of another. See the story related of Thomas Ruthall, bishop of Durham, in Holinshed, p. 796 and 797.

10 Sallust, describing the disturbed state of Cataline's mind, takes notice of the same circumstance:-- Citus modo, modo tardus incessus.'

11 Know.

Nor.

It's heaven's will;

Some spirit put this paper in the packet,
To bless your eye withal.

K. Hen.
If we did think
His contemplation were above the earth,
And fix'd on spiritual object, he should still
Dwell in his musings: but, I am afraid,
His thinkings are below the moon, not worth
His serious considering.

[He takes his seat, and whispers LOVELL, who goes to WOLSEY.

Wol.

Heaven forgive me!

Ever God bless your highness!

K. Hen.

Good my lord, You are full of heavenly stuff, and bear the inventory Of your best graces in your mind; the which You were now running o'er; you have scarce time To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span, To keep your earthly audit: Sure, in that I deem you an ill husband; and am glad To have you therein my companion.

Sir,

Wol.
For holy offices I have a time; a time
To think upon the part of business, which
I bear i' the state; and nature does require
Her times of preservation, which, perforce,
I her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal,
Must give my tendance to.

K. Hen.

You have said well. Wol. And ever may your highness yoke together, As I will lend you cause, my doing well

With my well saying!

K. Hen.

"Tis well said again;

And 'tis a kind of good deed, to say well:

And yet words are no deeds. My father lov'd you:

He said, he did; and with his deed did crown

His word upon you 12. Since I had my office,
I have kept you next my heart; have not alone
Employ'd you where high profits might come home,
But par'd my present havings, to bestow

My bounties upon you.

Wol.

What should this mean?

Sur. The Lord increase this business!

K. Hen.

[Aside.

Have I not made you The prime man of the state? I pray you, tell me, If what I now pronounce, you have found true: And, if you may confess it, say withal, If you are bound to us or no. What say you? Wol. My sovereign, I confess, your royal graces, Shower'd on me daily, have been more than could My studied purposes requite; which went

13

Beyond all man's endeavours 13 ;-my endeavours Have ever come too short of my desires,

Yet, fil'd with my abilities: Mine own ends

Have been mine so,

To the good of your

that evermore they pointed
most sacred person, and

The profit of the state. For your great graces
Heap'd upon me, poor undeserver, I

Can nothing render but allegiant thanks;
My prayers to heaven for you; my loyalty,
Which ever has, and ever shall be growing,
Till death, that winter, kill it.

K. Hen.

A loyal and obedient subject is

Fairly answer'd;

Therein illustrated: The honour of it

Does pay the act of it: as, i'the contrary,

12 So in Macbeth :

To crown my thoughts with acts.'

13 Your royal benefits, showered upon me daily, have been more than all my studied purpose could do to requite, for they went beyond all that man could effect in the way of gratitude. My endeavours have ever come too short of my desires, though they have fil'd, i. e. equalled or kept pace with my abilities.

The foulness is the punishment. I presume,
That, as my hand has open'd bounty to you,
My heart dropp'd love, my power rain'd honour,

more

On you 14, than any; so your hand and heart,
Your brain, and every function of your power,
Should, notwithstanding that your bond of duty,
As 'twere in love's particular, be more

To me, your friend, than any 15.

Wol. I do profess, That for your highness' good I ever labour'd More than mine own; that am, have, and will be 16. Though all the world should crack their duty to you, And throw it from their soul: though perils did Abound, as thick as thought could make them, and Appear in forms more horrid; yet my duty, As doth a rock against the chiding flood, Should the approach of this wild river break, And stand unshaken yours 17.

14 Steevens says, as Jonson is supposed to have made some alterations in this play, it may not be amiss to compare the passage before us with another on the same subject in The New Inn:

He gave me my first breeding, I acknowledge;
Then shower'd his bounties on me like the hours
That open-handed sit upon the clouds,
And press the liberality of heaven

Down to the laps of thankful men.

15 Beside your bond of duty as a loyal and obedient servant, you owe a particular devotion to me as your especial benefactor. 16 This is expressed with great obscurity; but seems to mean 'that or such a man I am, have been, and will ever be.'

17

'Ille velut pelagi rupes remota, resistit.'

Thus in Shakspeare's 116th Sonnet:

it is an ever-fixed mark

En. vii. 586.

That looks on tempests, and is never shaken.'

The chiding flood is the resounding flood. To chide, to babble,

K. Hen.

"Tis nobly spoken:

Take notice, lords, he has a loyal breast,
For you have seen him open't.-Read o'er this;
[Giving him papers.
And, after, this: and then to breakfast, with
What appetite you have.

[Exit King, frowning upon CARDINAL WOL-
SEY: the Nobles throng after him, smiling,
and whispering.

Wol.

paper;

What should this mean? What sudden anger's this? how have I reap'd it? He parted frowning from me, as if ruin Leap'd from his eyes: So looks the chafed lion Upon the daring huntsman that has gall'd him; Then makes him nothing. I must read this I fear, the story of his anger.-'Tis so; This paper has undone me :-'Tis the account Of all that world of wealth I have drawn together For mine own ends; indeed, to gain the popedom, And fee my friends in Rome. O negligence, Fit for a fool to fall by! What cross devil Made me put this main secret in the packet

and to brawl, were synonymous. Thus in As You Like It, Act ii. Sc. 1:

'Upon the brook that brawls along this wood.'

In the verses in commendation of the poet, by I. M. S. prefixed to the folio edition of 1632:

And in A Midsummer Night's Dream, Activ. Sc. 1:

hounds of Sparta: never did I hear

Such gallant chiding, for besides the groves,
The skies, the fountains, every region near
Seem'd all one mutual cry.'

So in King Henry V. Act ii. Sc. 4:

caves and womby vaultages of France

Shall chide your trespass.