a

PROLOGUE.

I COME no more to make you laugh; things now,
That bear a weighty and a serious brow,
Sad, and high-working, full of state and woe,
Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow,
We now present. Those that can pity, here
May, if they think it well, let fall a tear;
The subject will deserve it. Such as give
Their money out of hope they may believe,
May here find truth too. Those that come to see
Only a show or two, and so agree

The play may pass, if they be still and willing,
I'll undertake may see away their shilling
Richly in two short hours. Only they,
That come to hear a merry bawdy play,
A noise of targets, or to see a fellow
In a long motley coat, guarded with yellow,
Will be deceiv'd: for, gentle hearers, know,
To rank our chosen truth with such a show
As fool and fight is, beside forfeiting

Our own brains, and the opinion that we bring,
(To make that only true we now intend,)

Will leave us never an understanding friend.

Therefore, for goodness' sake, and as you are known
The first and happiest hearers of the town,

Be sad, as we would make

ye: think ye see
The very persons of our noble story,

As they were living; think you see them great,
And follow'd with the general throng and sweat
Of thousand friends; then, in a moment, see
How soon this mightiness meets misery!
And, if you can be merry then, I'll say
A man may weep upon his wedding-day.b

Sad, and high-working,-] The old, and every modern copy, read—

but see,

"Sad, high, and working;"

"Then let not this Divinitie in earth

(Deare Prince) be sleighted, as she were the birth

Of idle Fancie; since she workes so hie."

Epistle Dedicatorie to Chapman's "Iliads of Homer."

b Upon his wedding-day.] The conjecture of Johnson and Farmer, that Ben Jonson furnished the prologue and epilogue to this play, is strongly borne out, not only by their general style and structure, but by particular expressions in them also. As Johnson observes, there is in Shakespeare's dramas so much of "fool and fight," that it is not probable he would animadvert so severely on the introduction of such characters and in cidents.

ACT I.

SCENE I.-London. An Ante-chamber in the Palace.

Enter, on one side, the DUKE OF NORFOLK; on the other, the DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM, and the LORD ABERGAVENNY.

BUCK. Good morrow, and well met. How have ye done, Since last we saw in France?

'Twixt Guynes and Arde:

I was then present, saw them salute on horseback;
Beheld 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.

NORF.

Then you lost
The view of earthly glory: men might say,
Till this time pomp was single, but now married
To one above itself. 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 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 masque
Was cried 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,

A

Andren.] So in the original, and so also in Holinshed, whom Shakespeare followed. The valley of Ardren lies between Guynes and Ardres; and, at the period alluded to, the former belonged to the English, and the latter to the French.

'T was said, they saw but one; and no discerner
Durst wag his tongue in censure.a 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. (1)

BUCK.

O, you go far.

NORF. As I belong to worship, and affect
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?
NORF. One, certes, that promises no elemente
In such a business.

BUCK.

NORF. All this was order'd by the good discretion
I pray you, who, my lord?
Of the right-reverend cardinal of York.

BUCK. The devil speed him! no man's pie is freed
From his ambitious finger. What had he

To do in these fierce vanities? I wonder

Take

That such a keechd can with his
very
the
up rays o' the beneficial sun,
And keep it from the earth.

bulk

Surely, sir,

NORF.
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 allied
To eminent assistants; but, spider-like,

Out of his self drawing web,-he gives us note,—e
The force of his own merit makes his way;

A gift that heaven gives for him, which buys

A place next to the king.

[ACT I.

* Durst wag his tongue in censure.] That is, in judging either superior to the other. b All was royal;] These words and the remainder of the speech are in the old copies given to Buckingham.

No element-] No rudimentary knowledge even.

d Keech-] See note (c), p. 746, Vol. I.

e Out of his self drawing web,-he gives us note,-] The old text reads :—

"Out of his Selfe-drawing Web. O gives us note," &c.

Steevens surmised that the manuscript had, "A gives us note," which the compositor mistook for "O gives us note." drawing web," which every editor adopts without comment, appears to us an error This is not improbable; but the expression," selflikewise. The sense is better and more clearly expressed by omitting the hyphen.

A gift that heaven gives for him, &c.] This is a very doubtful line. Mr. Collier's annotator changes it to

"A gift that heaven gives him, and which buys;"

I cannot tell

ABER.

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
To 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.a

I do know

ABER.
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 'em
For this great journey. What did this vanity
But minister communication of

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,

but if such licentious alterations were permissible, it would be easy to improve on this

emendation.

By "The honourable board of council out," is meant, without concurrence of the council; but what are we to understand by the expression in the last line," he papers?" In sheer despair, Pope threw out a suggestion that papers was here a verb, -" whom he papers down," and succeeding editors have been content with the explication; yet what thinking reader can ever believe this is what Shakespeare intended? From the context, see especially the two next speeches, it would seem that the sense requires a synonyme for the verb beggars,-" whom he beggars," or impoverishes; it is then possible that the meaningless papers is a misprint, and that we should read:

That is, But furnish discourse on the poverty of its result. Communication in the sense of talk, or discourse, is found so repeatedly in writers of Shakespeare's time, that the passage would hardly have required explanation, if the commentators had not overlooked this meaning of the word, and Mr. Collier, in adopting "consummation,' a reading of his annotator,-had not pronounced the old text "little better than

nonsense."

Dashing the garment of this peace, aboded
The sudden breach on 't.

NORF.

Which is budded out;

For France hath flaw'd the league, and hath attach'd
Our merchants' goods at Bourdeaux.

ABER.

The ambassador is silenc'd?

NORF.

Is it therefore

Marry, is 't.

ABER. A proper title of a peace; and purchas'd

At a superfluous rate!

BUCK.

Our reverend cardinal carried.

NORF.

Why, all this business

Like it your grace,a

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 't may be said,

It reaches far; and where 't will 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 fixeth 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 Buckingham
Shall lessen this big look.

[Exeunt CARDINAL 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.

(*) Old text, venom'd-mouth'd.

a Like it your grace,-] Equivalent to "An it like your grace."

It may be we should read, "a beggar's look;" it was the look which Wolsey threw on Buckingham, that chafed his "blood: ".