Q. Kath.

Deliver all with charity.

K. Hen.

My learn'd lord cardinal,

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?

Suro.

He was brought to this

By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Hopkins.

K. Hen. What was that Hopkins?

Surv.

Sir, a Chartreux friar,

His confessor; who fed him every minute

With words of sovereignty.

K. Hen.

How know'st thou this?

Surv. 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 amongst the Londoners
Concerning the French journey: I reply'd,
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 Court, 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 his heirs, (Tell you the duke) shall prosper: bid him strive To gain the love of the commonalty; the duke

Shall govern England.

Q. Kath.

If I know you well,

You were the duke's surveyor, and lost your office On the complaint o' the 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.

K. Hen.

Go forward.

Surv.

Let him on:

On my soul, I'll speak but truth. I told my lord the duke, By the devil's illusions This monk might be deceiv'd; and that 'twas

dang'rous 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.

K. Hen.

Ha! what, so rank? Ah, ha! There's mischief in this man:- Canst thou say

further?

Being at Greenwich,

After your highness had reprov'd the duke

About sir William Blomer, —

K. Hen.

I remember

Of such a time:--Being my sworn servant,

The duke retain'd him his. --But on; What

hence?

Surv. 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

The usurper Richard: who, being at Salisbury,
Made suit to come in his presence; which, if granted,

As he made semblance of his duty, would

Have put his knife into him.

K. Hen.

A giant traitor!

Wol. Now, madam, may his highness live in

Surv. After the duke his father, with the knife,

He stretch'd him, and, with one hand on his dagger, Another spread on his breast, mounting his eyes, He did discharge a horrible oath; whose tenour Was,-Were he evil us'd', he would out-go

His father, by as much as a performance

Does an irresolute purpose.

K. Hen.

To sheath his knife in us.

There's his period,

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 the height.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

A ROOM IN THE PALACE.

Enter the Lord Chamberlain and Lord Sands.

Cham. Is it possible, the spells of France should

New customs,

Though they be never so ridiculous,
Nay, let them be unmanly, yet are follow'd.

Cham. As far as I see, all the good our English

Have got by the late voyage, is but merely
A fit or two o'the face; but they are shrewd ones;
For when they hold them, you would swear di-

rectly,

Their very noses had been counsellors
To Pepin, or Clotharius, they keep state so.

Sands. They have all new legs, and lame ones; one would take it,

That never saw them pace before, the spavin,

A springhalt reign'd among them.

Cham.

Death! my lord,

Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too,

That, sure, they have worn out christendom. How

now?

What news, sir Thomas Lovell?

Lov.

Enter Sir Thomas Lovell.

'Faith, my lord,

I hear of none, but the new proclamation

That's clapp'd upon the court-gate.
Cham.

What is't for?

Lov. The reformation of our travell'd gallants, That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors.

Cham. I am glad, 'tis there; now I would pray

our monsieurs

To think an English courtier may be wise,

And never see the Louvre.

Lov.

They must either

(For so run the conditions,) leave these remnants
Of fool, and feather, that they got in France,
With all their honourable points of ignorance
Pertaining thereunto, (as fights, and fireworks;
Abusing better men than they can be,
Out of a foreign wisdom,) renouncing clean
The faith they have in tennis, and tall stockings,
Short blister'd breeches, and those types of travel,
And understand again like honest men;
Or pack to their old playfellows: there, I take it,
They may, cum privilegio, wear away
The lag end of their lewdness, and be laugh'd at.
Sands. 'Tis time to give them physick, their

diseases

Are grown so catching.
Cham.

Will have of these trim vanities?

Lov.

What a loss our ladies

Ay, marry,

There will be woe indeed, lords; the sly whoresons Have got a speeding trick to lay down ladies;

A French song, and a fiddle, has no fellow.

Sands. The devil fiddle them! I am glad, they're