Читать книгу King Henry the Eighth - Уильям Шекспир, William Szekspir, the Simon Studio - Страница 4

  KING. My life itself, and the best heart of it,

    Thanks you for this great care; I stood i' th' level

    Of a full-charg'd confederacy, and give thanks

    To you that chok'd it. Let be call'd before us

    That gentleman of Buckingham's. In person

    I'll hear his confessions justify;

    And point by point the treasons of his master

    He shall again relate.

  QUEEN KATHARINE. Nay, we must longer kneel: I am suitor.

  KING. Arise, and take place by us. Half your suit

    Never name to us: you have half our power.

    The other moiety ere you ask is given;

    Repeat your will, and take it.

  QUEEN KATHARINE. Thank your Majesty.

    That you would love yourself, and in that love

    Not unconsidered leave your honour nor

    The dignity of your office, is the point

    Of my petition.

  KING. Lady mine, proceed.

  QUEEN KATHARINE. I am solicited, not by a few,

    And those of true condition, that your subjects

    Are in great grievance: there have been commissions

    Sent down among 'em which hath flaw'd the heart

    Of all their loyalties; wherein, although,

    My good Lord Cardinal, they vent reproaches

    Most bitterly on you as putter-on

    Of these exactions, yet the King our master-

    Whose honour Heaven shield from soil! – even he escapes not

    Language unmannerly; yea, such which breaks

    The sides of loyalty, and almost appears

    In loud rebellion.

  NORFOLK. Not almost appears-

    It doth appear; for, upon these taxations,

    The clothiers all, not able to maintain

    The many to them 'longing, have put of

    The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers, who

    Unfit for other life, compell'd by hunger

    And lack of other means, in desperate manner

    Daring th' event to th' teeth, are all in uproar,

    And danger serves among them.

  KING. Taxation!

    Wherein? and what taxation? My Lord Cardinal,

    You that are blam'd for it alike with us,

    Know you of this taxation?

  WOLSEY. Please you, sir,

    I know but of a single part in aught

    Pertains to th' state, and front but in that file

    Where others tell steps with me.

  QUEEN KATHARINE. No, my lord!

    You know no more than others! But you frame

    Things that are known alike, which are not wholesome

    To those which would not know them, and yet must

    Perforce be their acquaintance. These exactions,

    Whereof my sovereign would have note, they are

    Most pestilent to th' hearing; and to bear 'em

    The back is sacrifice to th' load. They say

    They are devis'd by you, or else you suffer

    Too hard an exclamation.

  KING. Still exaction!

    The nature of it? In what kind, let's know,

    Is this exaction?

  QUEEN KATHARINE. I am much too venturous

    In tempting of your patience, but am bold'ned

    Under your promis'd pardon. The subjects' grief

    Comes through commissions, which compels from each

    The sixth part of his substance, to be levied

    Without delay; and the pretence for this

    Is nam'd your wars in France. This makes bold mouths;

    Tongues spit their duties out, and cold hearts freeze

    Allegiance in them; their curses now

    Live where their prayers did; and it's come to pass

    This tractable obedience is a slave

    To each incensed will. I would your Highness

    Would give it quick consideration, for

    There is no primer business.

  KING. By my life,

    This is against our pleasure.

  WOLSEY. And for me,

    I have no further gone in this than by

    A single voice; and that not pass'd me but

    By learned approbation of the judges. If I am

    Traduc'd by ignorant tongues, which neither know

    My faculties nor person, yet will be

    The chronicles of my doing, let me say

    'Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brake

    That virtue must go through. We must not stint

    Our necessary actions in the fear

    To cope malicious censurers, which ever

    As rav'nous fishes do a vessel follow

    That is new-trimm'd, but benefit no further

    Than vainly longing. What we oft do best,

    By sick interpreters, once weak ones, is

    Not ours, or not allow'd; what worst, as oft

    Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up

    For our best act. If we shall stand still,

    In fear our motion will be mock'd or carp'd at,

    We should take root here where we sit, or sit

    State-statues only.

  KING. Things done well

    And with a care exempt themselves from fear:

    Things done without example, in their issue

    Are to be fear'd. Have you a precedent

    Of this commission? I believe, not any.

    We must not rend our subjects from our laws,

    And stick them in our will. Sixth part of each?

    A trembling contribution! Why, we take

    From every tree lop, bark, and part o' th' timber;

    And though we leave it with a root, thus hack'd,

    The air will drink the sap. To every county

    Where this is question'd send our letters with

    Free pardon to each man that has denied

    The force of this commission. Pray, look tot;

    I put it to your care.

  WOLSEY. [Aside to the SECRETARY] A word with you.

    Let there be letters writ to every shire

    Of the King's grace and pardon. The grieved commons

    Hardly conceive of me-let it be nois'd

    That through our intercession this revokement

    And pardon comes. I shall anon advise you

    Further in the proceeding. Exit

SECRETARY

  QUEEN KATHARINE. I am sorry that the Duke of Buckingham

    Is run in your displeasure.

  KING. It grieves many.

    The gentleman is learn'd and a most rare speaker;

    To nature none more bound; his training such

    That he may furnish and instruct great teachers

    And never seek for aid out of himself. Yet see,

    When these so noble benefits shall prove

    Not well dispos'd, the mind growing once corrupt,

    They turn to vicious forms, ten times more ugly

    Than ever they were fair. This man so complete,

    Who was enroll'd 'mongst wonders, and when we,

    Almost with ravish'd list'ning, could not find

    His hour of speech a minute-he, my lady,

    Hath into monstrous habits put the graces

    That once were his, and is become as black

    As if besmear'd in hell. Sit by us; you shall hear-

    This was his gentleman in trust-of him

    Things to strike honour sad. Bid him recount

    The fore-recited practices, whereof

    We cannot feel too little, hear too much.

  WOLSEY. Stand forth, and with bold spirit relate what you,

    Most like a careful subject, have collected

    Out of the Duke of Buckingham.

  KING. Speak freely.

  SURVEYOR. First, it was usual with him-every day

    It would infect his speech-that if the King

    Should without issue die, he'll carry it so

    To make the sceptre his. These very words

    I've heard him utter to his son-in-law,

    Lord Aberga'ny, to whom by oath he menac'd

    Revenge upon the Cardinal.

  WOLSEY. Please your Highness, note

    This dangerous conception in this point:

    Not friended by his wish, to your high person

    His will is most malignant, and it stretches

    Beyond you to your friends.

  QUEEN KATHARINE. My learn'd Lord Cardinal,

    Deliver all with charity.

  KING. Speak on.

    How grounded he his title to the crown

    Upon our fail? To this point hast thou heard him

    At any time speak aught?

  SURVEYOR. He was brought to this

    By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Henton.

  KING. What was that Henton?

  SURVEYOR. Sir, a Chartreux friar,

    His confessor, who fed him every minute

    With words of sovereignty.

  KING. How know'st thou this?

  SURVEYOR. Not long before your Highness sped to France,

    The Duke being at the Rose, within the parish

    Saint Lawrence Poultney, did of me demand

    What was the speech among the Londoners

    Concerning the French journey. I replied

    Men fear'd the French would prove perfidious,

    To the King's danger. Presently the Duke

    Said 'twas the fear indeed and that he doubted

    'Twould prove the verity of certain words

    Spoke by a holy monk 'that oft' says he

    'Hath sent to me, wishing me to permit

    John de la Car, my chaplain, a choice hour

    To hear from him a matter of some moment;

    Whom after under the confession's seal

    He solemnly had sworn that what he spoke

    My chaplain to no creature living but

    To me should utter, with demure confidence

    This pausingly ensu'd: "Neither the King nor's heirs,

    Tell you the Duke, shall prosper; bid him strive

    To gain the love o' th' commonalty; the Duke

    Shall govern England."'

  QUEEN KATHARINE. If I know you well,

    You were the Duke's surveyor, and lost your office

    On the complaint o' th' tenants. Take good heed

    You charge not in your spleen a noble person

    And spoil your nobler soul. I say, take heed;

    Yes, heartily beseech you.

  KING. Let him on.

    Go forward.

  SURVEYOR. On my soul, I'll speak but truth.

    I told my lord the Duke, by th' devil's illusions

    The monk might be deceiv'd, and that 'twas dangerous

      for him

    To ruminate on this so far, until

    It forg'd him some design, which, being believ'd,

    It was much like to do. He answer'd 'Tush,

    It can do me no damage'; adding further

    That, had the King in his last sickness fail'd,

    The Cardinal's and Sir Thomas Lovell's heads

    Should have gone off.

  KING. Ha! what, so rank? Ah ha!

    There's mischief in this man. Canst thou say further?

  SURVEYOR. I can, my liege.

  KING. Proceed.

  SURVEYOR. Being at Greenwich,

    After your Highness had reprov'd the Duke

    About Sir William Bulmer-

  KING. I remember

    Of such a time: being my sworn servant,

    The Duke retain'd him his. But on: what hence?

  SURVEYOR. 'If' quoth he 'I for this had been committed-

    As to the Tower I thought-I would have play'd

    The part my father meant to act upon

    Th' usurper Richard; who, being at Salisbury,

    Made suit to come in's presence, which if granted,

    As he made semblance of his duty, would

    Have put his knife into him.'

  KING. A giant traitor!

  WOLSEY. Now, madam, may his Highness live in freedom,

    And this man out of prison?

  QUEEN KATHARINE. God mend all!

  KING. There's something more would out of thee: what say'st?

  SURVEYOR. After 'the Duke his father' with the 'knife,'

    He stretch'd him, and, with one hand on his dagger,

    Another spread on's breast, mounting his eyes,

    He did discharge a horrible oath, whose tenour

    Was, were he evil us'd, he would outgo

    His father by as much as a performance

    Does an irresolute purpose.

  KING. There's his period,

    To sheath his knife in us. He is attach'd;

    Call him to present trial. If he may

    Find mercy in the law, 'tis his; if none,

    Let him not seek't of us. By day and night!

    He's traitor to th' height.