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 marry'd To one above itself. Each following day Became the next day's master, till the last Made former wonders it's: To-day, the French, All clinquant, all in gold, like heathen gods, Shone down the English; and, to-morrow, they Made Britain, India: every man, that stood, Show'd like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were As cherubins, 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 chal

leng'd The noble spirits to arms, they did perform Beyond thought's compass; that former fabulous

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

Buck.
Nor. As I belong to worship, and affect

O, you go far.

In honour honesty, 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.
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.

Surely, sir, There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends: For, being not propp'd by ancestry, (whose grace Chalks successors their way,) nor call’d upon For high feats done to the crown; neither ally'd To eminent assistants, but, spider-like, Out of his self-drawing web, he gives us note, The force of his own inerit 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 he papers.
Aber.

I do know
Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that have
By this so sicken’d their estates, that never
They shall abound as formerly.
Buck.

O, many
Have broke their backs with laying manors on them
For this great journey. What did this vanity,
But minister communication of
A most poor issue?
Nor.

Grievingly I think,
The peace between the French and us not values
The cost that did conclude it.
Buck.

Every man,
After the hideous storm that follow'd, was
A thing inspir’d; and, not consulting, broke
Into a general prophecy,—That this tempest,

Dashing the garment of this peace, aboded
The sudden breach on't.
Nor.

Which is budded out;
For France hath flaw'd the league, and hath attach'd
Our merchants' goods at Bourdeaux.
Aber.

Is it therefore The ambassador is silenc'd? Nor.

Marry, is't.
Aber. A proper title of a peace; and purchas'd
At a superfluous rate!
Buck.

Why, all this business
Our reverend cardinal carry'd.
Nor.

'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 fireth 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 Secr.

Here, so please you. Wol. Is he in person ready? i Secr.

Ay, please your grace. Wol. Well, we shall then know more; and Buck

ingham Shall lessen this 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 book Out-worths a noble's blood. Nor.

What, are you chaf'd? Ask God for temperance; that's the appliance only, Which your disease requires. . Buck.

I read in his looks Matter against me; and his eye revil'd Me, as his abject object: at this instant He bores me with some trick: He's gone to the

king; I'll follow, and out-stare him. Nor.

Stay, my lord, And let your reason with

choler question What 'tis you go about: To climb steep hills,