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Enter the Duke of Norfolk at one Door : At the
other, the Duke of Buckingham, and the Lord
OOD morrow, and well met. How have
Since last we saw y'in France ? [ye done
Nor. I thank your Grace:
Healthful, and ever since a fresh admirer
Of what I saw there.
Buck. Ao untimely Ague
Staid me a Prisoner in my Chamber, when
Those Sons of Glory, those two Lights of Men
Met in the vale of Ardres.
Nor. 'Twixt Guynes and Ardres,
Į was then present, faw them falute on Horse-back,
Beheld them when they lighted, how they clung
In their Embracement, as they grew together ;
Which had they,
What four Thrond ones could have weigh'd
Such a compounded one?
Buck. All the whole time
I was my Chamber's Priloner.
Nor. Then you lost
The view of earthly Glory: Men might say
'Till this time Pomp was single, but now married
To one above it self. Each following day
Became the next Day's Master, 'till the last
Made former Wonders, its. To day the French,
All Clinquant, all in Gold, like Heathens Gods
Shone down the English; and to morrow, they
Made Britain, India : Every Man that stood,
Shew'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 th'ensuing night
Made it a Fool, and Beggar. The two Kings
Equal in lustre, were now beft, 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 'em, by their Heralds, challeng'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. Oh, you go far.
Nor. As I belong to worship, and affect,
In Honour, Honesty, the tract of ev'ry thing
Would by a good Discourser lose some life,
Which A&ions self was Tongue to.
Buck. All was Royal,
To the disposing of it nought rebell’d,
Order gave each thing view, The Office did
King Henry VIII.
Distinổly his full Function; 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 Pye is freed
From his ambitious Finger. What had he
To do in these fierce Vanities? I wonder
That such a Ketch can with his
up the Rays o’th' 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 propt by Ancestry, whose Grace
Chalks Successors their way ; nor call'd upon
For high Feats done to th'Crown; neither Allied
To eminent Affiftants; but Spider-like
Out of his self-drawing Web. O! gives us note,
The force of his own merit makes his way,
A Gift that Heaven gives for him, which buys
A place next to the King.
Aber. I cannot tell
What Heav'n 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 him 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'th' King, t'appoint
Who should attend on him? he makes up the File
of all the Gentry; for the most part such
To whom as great a Charge as little Honour
He meant to lay'u pon; 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 sickend their Estates, that never
They shall abound, as formerly.
Buck. O many
Have broke their Backs with laying Manors on 'em
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 Prophesie; that this Tempest,
Dashing the Garment of this Peace, aboaded
The sudden breach on't.
Nor. Which is budded out:
For France hath Aaw'd the League, and hath attach'd
Our Merchants Goods at Bourdeaux.
Aber. Is it therefore
Th' Ambassador is Glenc'd?
Nor. Marry is't.
Aber. A proper Title of 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 your Honour, and plenteous Safety) that you read The Cardinal's Malice, and his Potency Together: To consider further, that What his high Fiatred would effe&t, wants not A Minister in his Power. You know his Naturc, That he's revengeful; and I know, his Sword Hath a Mharp edge: It's long, and't may be faid, It reaches far, and where 'e will not excend, Thither he dares it. Bofom up my Counsel,
You'll find it wholsome. Lo, where comes that Rock
That I advise your shunning.
Enter Cardinal Wolsey, the Purse born before him, certain of
the Guard, and two Secretaries with Papers; the Cardinal in his passage fixeth his Eye on Buckingham, and Buckingham on him, both full of disdain.
Wol. The Duke of Buckinghami's Surveyor? Ha?
Where's his Examination?
Secr. Here, so please you.
Wol. Is he in Person ready?
Secr. Ay, an't please your Grace.
Wol. Well, we ihall then know more, and Buckingham shall lessen his big look. [Exeunt Cardinal with his Train,
Buck. This Butcher's Cur is venome mouth'd, and I
Have not the power to muzzle him, therefore beft
Not wake him in his sumber. A Beggar's Book
Out-worths Noble's Blood.
Nor. What, are you chaf'd? ?
Ask God for temp'rance, that's th' appliance only
Buck. I read in's 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 th'King:
I'll follow and out-stare him.
Nor. Stay, my Lord,
And let your Reason with your Choler question
What 'tis you go about; to climb steep Hills
Requires low pace at first. Anger is like
A full-hor Horse, who being allow'd his way
Self-mettle tires him: Not a Man in England
Can advise me, like you: Be to your self,
As you would to your Friend.
Buck. I'll to the King,
And, from a mouth of Honour, quite cry down
This Ipwich Fellow's Infolence; or proclaim,
There's difference in no Persons.
Nor. Be advis'd;
Heat not a Furnace for your Foe so hot
That it do finge your self. We may out-run