This night to meet here, they could do no less,
Out of the great respect they bear to beauty,
But leave their flocks; and, under your fair conduct,
Crave leave to view these ladies, and entreat
An hour of revels with them.
Wol.

Say, lord chamberlain, They have done my poor house grace; for which

I pay them . A thousand thanks, and pray them take their plea

suręs. [Ladies chosen for the dance. The King chooses

Anne Bullen. K. Hen. The fairest hand I ever touch'd! O,

beauty, Till now I never knew thee.

[Musick. · Dance. Wol. My lord, Cham.

Your grace? Wol. Pray, tell them thus much from me: There should be one amongst them, by his person, More worthy this place than myself; to whom, If I but knew him, with my love and duty I would surrender it. Cham.

I will, my lord. [Cham. goes to the company, and returns. Wol. What say they? Cham.

Such a one, they all confess, There is, indeed; which they would have your grace Find out, and he will take it. Wol.

Let me see then.-

[Comes from his state. By all your good leaves, gentlemen ;-Here I'll make My royal choice.

K. Hen.
You have found him, cardinal:

(Unmasking.
You hold a fair assembly; you do well, lord:
You are a churchman, or, I'll tell you, cardinal,
I should judge now unhappily.
Wol.

I am glad, Your grace

is

grown so pleasant. K. Hen.

My lord chamberlain, Pr’ythee, come hither: What fair lady's that? Cham. An't please your grace, sir Thomas Bul

· len's daughter, The viscount Rochford, one of her highness' women. K. Hen. By heaven, she is a dainty one.-Sweet

heart,
I were unmannerly, to take you out,
And not to kiss you.—A health, gentlemen,
Let it

go

round.
Wol. Sir Thomas Lovell, is the banquet ready
I'the privy chamber?
Lov.

Yes, my lord.
Wol.
I fear, with dancing is a little heated.

K. Hen. I fear, too much.
Wol.

There's fresher air, my lord,
In the next chainber.
K. Hen. Lead in your ladies, every one.-Sweet

partner, I must not yet forsake you:-Let's be merry; Good my lord cardinal, I have half a dozen healths To drink to these fair ladies, and a measure To lead them once again; and then let's dream Who's best in favour.--Let the musick knock it.

[Exeunt, with trumpets.

Your grace,

I'll save you

Enter two Gentlemen, meeting. I Gent. Whither away so fast? 2 Gent.

0,-God save you! Even to the hall, to hear what shall become Of the great duke of Buckingham.

i Gent. That labour, sir. All's now done, but the ceremony Of bringing back the prisoner. 2 Gent.

Were you there? 1 Gent. Yes, indeed, was I. 2 Gent.

Pray, speak, what has happen'd? 1 Gent. You may guess quickly what. 2 Gent.

Is he found guilty ? 1 Gent. Yes, truly, is he, and condemn d upon it. 2 Gent. I am sorry for't. 1 Gent.

So are a number more. 2 Gent. But, pray, how pass’d it?

1 Gent. I'll tell you in a little. The great duke Came to the bar; where, to his accusations, He

pleaded still, not guilty, and alledg’d
Many sharp reasons to defeat the law.
The king's attorney, on the contrary,
Urg’d on the examinations, proofs, confessions
Of divers witnesses; which the duke desir’d
To him brought, vivâ voce, to his face:
At which appear'd against him, his surveyor;

Sir Gilbert Peck his chancellor; and John Court,
Confessor to him; with that devil-monk,
Hopkins, that made this mischief.
2 Gent.

That was he, That fed him with his prophecies? 1 Gent.

The same. All these accus'd him strongly; which he fain Would have flung from him, but, indeed, he could

not:
And so his peers, upon this evidence,
Have found him guilty of high treason.

Much
He spoke, and learnedly, for life; but all
Was either pitied in him, or forgotten.

2 Gent. After all this, how did he bear himself? i Gent. When he was brought again to the bar,

to hear His knell rung out, his judgment,—he was stirr'd With such an agony, he sweat extremely, And something spoke in choler, ill, and hasty: But he fell to himself again, and, sweetly, In all the rest show'd a most noble patience. 2 Gent. I do not think he fears death. 1 Gent.

Sure, he does not, He never was so womanish; the cause He may a little grieve at. 2 Gent.

Certainly,
The cardinal is the end of this.
1 Gent.

'Tis likely,
By all conjectures: First, Kildare's attainder,
Then deputy of Ireland; who remov’d,
Earl Surrey was sent thither, and in haste too,
Lest he should help his father.

2 Gent.

That trick of state
Was a deep envious one.
i Gent.

At his return,
No doubt, he will requite it. This is noted,
And generally; whoever the king favours,
The cardinal instantly will find employment,
And far enough from court too.
2 Gent.

All the commons Hate him perniciously, and, o' my conscience,

, Wish him ten fathom deep: this duke as much They love and dote on; call him, bounteous Buck

ingham, The mirror of all courtesy ;— 1 Gent,

Stay there, sir, And see the noble ruin'd man you speak of.

Enter Buckingham from his arraignment; Tipstaves

before him, the axe with the edge towards him; halberds on each side: with him, Sir Thomas Lovell, Sir Nicholas Vaur, Sir William Sands, and common people. 2 Gent. Let's stand close, and behold him. Buck.

All good people,
You that thus far have come to pity me,
Hear what I say, and then go home, and lose me.
I have this day receiy'd a traitor's judgment,
And by that name must die; Yet; heaven bear wit-

ness,
And, if I have a conscience, let it sink me,
Even as the axe falls, if I be not faithful!
The law I bear no malice for my death,
It has done, upon the premises, but justice;

D