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 the papers.
I do know
Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that have
By this so sickened their estates, that never
They shall abound as formerly.
O, many
Have broke their backs with laying manors on 'em
For this great journey. What did this vanity
But minister communication of
A most poor issue?
Grievingly I think,
The peace between the French and us not values
The cost that did conclude it.
Every man,
After the hideous storm that follow'd, was
A thing inspired; and, not consulting, broke
Into a general prophecy; That this tempest,
Dashing the garment of this peace, aboded
The sudden breach on't.
Which is budded out;
For France hath flaw'd the league, and hath attach'd
Our merchants' goods at Bourdeaux.
Is it therefore
The ambassador is silenced?
Marry, is't.
A proper title of a peace; and purchased
At a superfluous rate!
Why, all this business
Our reverend cardinal carried.
Like it your grace,
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 'twill 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.
The Duke of Buckingham's surveyor, ha?
Where's his examination?
Here, so please you.
Is he in person ready?
Ay, please your grace.
Well, we shall then know more; and Buckingham
Shall lessen this big look.
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
Outworths a noble's blood.
What, are you chafed?
Ask God for temperance; that's the appliance only
Which your disease requires.
I read in's looks
Matter against me; and his eye reviled
Me, as his abject object: at this instant
He bores me with some