Уильям Шекспир - The Life of Henry the Eighth

You are a merry gamester,
My Lord Sandys.

Yes, if I make my play.
Here's to your ladyship; and pledge it, madam,
For 'tis to such a thing, —

You cannot show me.

I told your Grace they would talk anon.

What's that?

Look out there, some of ye.

What warlike voice,
And to what end, is this? Nay, ladies, fear not;
By all the laws of war you're privileg'd.

How now! what is't?

A noble troop of strangers,
For so they seem. They've left their barge and landed,
And hither make, as great ambassadors
From foreign princes.

Good Lord Chamberlain,
Go, give 'em welcome; you can speak the French tongue;
And, pray, receive 'em nobly, and conduct 'em
Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty
Shall shine at full upon them. Some attend him.

You have now a broken banquet; but we'll mend it.
A good digestion to you all; and once more
I shower a welcome on ye. Welcome all!

A noble company! What are their pleasures?

Because they speak no English, thus they pray'd
To tell your Grace, that, having heard by fame
Of this so noble and so fair assembly
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 'em.

Say, Lord Chamberlain,
They have done my poor house grace; for which I pay 'em
A thousand thanks, and pray 'em take their pleasures.

The fairest hand I ever touch'd! O beauty,
Till now I never knew thee!

My lord!

Your Grace?

Pray, tell 'em thus much from me:
There should be one amongst 'em, 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.

I will, my lord.

What say they?

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

Let me see, then.
By all your good leaves, gentlemen; here I'll make
My royal choice.

Ye 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.

I am glad
Your Grace is grown so pleasant.

My Lord Chamberlain,
Prithee come hither. What fair lady's that?

An't please your Grace, Sir Thomas Bullen's daughter, —
The Viscount Rochford, – one of her Highness' women.

By heaven, she is a dainty one. Sweetheart,
I were unmannerly to take you out
And not to kiss you. A health, gentlemen
Let it go round.

Sir Thomas Lovell, is the banquet ready
I' the privy chamber?

Yes, my lord.

Your Grace,
I fear, with dancing is a little heated.

I fear, too much.

There's fresher air, my lord,
In the next chamber.

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 'em once again; and then let's dream
Who's best in favour. Let the music knock it.

Whither away so fast?

O, God save ye!
Even to the hall, to hear what shall become
Of the great Duke of Buckingham.

I'll save you
That labour, sir. All's now done, but the ceremony
Of bringing back the prisoner.

Were you there?

Yes, indeed, was I.

Pray, speak what has happen'd.

You may guess quickly what.

Is he found guilty?

Yes, truly is he, and condemn'd upon't.

I am sorry for't.

So are a number more.

But, pray, how pass'd it?

I'll tell you in a little. The great Duke
Came to the bar; where to his accusations
He pleaded still not guilty and alleged
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 have brought viva voce to his face;
At which appear'd against him his surveyor;
Sir Gilbert Peck his chancellor; and John Car,
Confessor to him, with that devil-monk,
Hopkins, that made this mischief.

That was he
That fed him with his prophecies?

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.