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