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ACT I. SCENE I. London. An Antechamber in the
Palace. Enter the DUKE OF NORFOLK, at one door: at the
other, the DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM, and the LORD A BERGAVENNY. Buck. Good morrow, and well met. How
have you done, Since last we saw in France ? Nor.
I thank your grace: Healthful; and ever since a fresh admirer Of what I saw there. Buck.
An untimely ague Stay'd me a prisoner in my chamber, when Those suns of glory, those two lights of men, Met in the vale of Arde. Nor.
'T'wixt Guynes and Arde: I was then present, saw them salute on horseBeheld them, when they lighted, how they clung In their embracement, as they grew together;. Which had they, what four thron'd ones could
have weigh'd Such a compounded one? 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 mar
ried 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 chernbins, 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. These two kings,
suns (For so they phrase them) by their heralds
challengid The noble spirits to arms, they did perform Beyond thought's compass; that former fabu
lous story, Being now seen possible enough, got credit, That Bevis was believ'd. Buck.
0, you go far.
Who did guide,
Nor. One, certes, that promises no element In such a business. Buck.
pray you, who, my lord ?
A gift that beaven gives for him, which buys
I cannot tell
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,
I do know
0, 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 valaes 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;
Is it therefore
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 carried. 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 safeiy), 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 hornę before him)
of 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? 1 Secr.
Ay, please your grace, Wol. Well, we shall then know more; and
(Exeunt WOLSEY and Train, Buck. This butcher's cur is venom-mouth'd,
and I Haye not the power to muzzle him ; therefore,
best Not wake him in bis slumber. A beggar's book Out-worths a noble's blood. Nor.
What, are you chat'd ? Ask God for temperance; that's the appliance
only, Which your disease requires, Buck,
I read in his looks
Matter against me: and bis eye revil'd
Stay, my lord, And let your reason with your choler question What 'tis you go about: To climb steep, hills, Requires slow pace at first : Anger is like A full hot horse; who, being allow'd his way, Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England Can advise me like you : be to yourself As yon would to your friend. Buck.
L’ll to the king; And from a mouth of honour quite cry down This Ipswich fellow's insolence; or proclaim, There's difference in no persons. Nor.
Be advis'd; Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot That it do singe yourself: We may outrun, By violent swiftness, that which we run at, And lose by overrunning. Know you not, The fire, that mounts the liquor till it run o'er, In seeming to augment it, wastes it? Be advis'd; I say again, there is no English soul More stronger to direct you than yourself;. If with the sap of reason you would quench, Or_but allay, the fire of passion. Buck.
Sir, I am thankful to you; and I'll go along By your prescription :- but this top-proud fel(Whom from the flow of gall, I name not, but From si motions), by intelligence, And proofs as clear as founts in July, when We see each grain of gravel, I do know To be corrupt and treasonous. Nor.
Say not, treasonous. Buck. To the king I'll say't; and make my
vouch as strong