In modest merriment, but smiling earnest,
How that our master Henry was much abler
To bear the detriments, than he repay them.

K. Hen. The young man, I believe, spake honest truth;

He studies to be wise betimes. Has, Urswick, Sir Rice ap Thomas, and lord Brook, our steward, Return'd the Western gentlemen full thanks, From us, for their tried loyalties?

Urs. They have ;

Which, as if life and health had reign'd amongst them,

With open hearts they joyfully received.

K. Hen. Young Buckingham is a fair-natured prince,

Lovely in hopes, and worthy of his father;
Attended by an hundred knights and squires
Of special name, he tender'd humble service,
Which we must ne'er forget; and Devonshire's
wounds,

Though slight, shall find sound cure in our respect.

Enter DAWBENEY, with a Guard, leading in WARBECK, HERON, JOHN A-WATER, ASTLEY, and SKETON, chained.

Daw. Life to the king, and safety fix his throne! I here present you, royal sir, a shadow Of majesty, but, in effect, a substance Of pity, a young man, in nothing grown To ripeness, but the ambition of your mercy : Perkin, the Christian world's strange wonder.

K. Hen. Dawbeney,

We observe no wonder; I behold, 'tis true,
An ornament of nature, fine and polish'd,

A handsome youth indeed, but not admire him. How came he to thy hands?

Daw. From sanctuary

At Bewley, near Southampton; register'd
With these few followers, for persons privileged.
K. Hen. I must not thank you, sir! you were
to blame

To infringe the liberty of houses sacred:
Dare we be irreligious?

Daw. Gracious lord,

They voluntarily resign'd themselves,
Without compulsion.

K. Hen. So? 'twas very well;

'Twas very, very well!-turn now thine eyes, Young man, upon thyself, and thy past actions. What revels in combustion through our kingdom, A frenzy of aspiring youth hath danced,

Till, wanting breath, thy feet of pride have slipt To break thy neck!

War. But not my heart; my heart

Will mount, till every drop of blood be frozen
By death's perpetual winter: if the sun
Of majesty be darken'd, let the sun

Of life be hid from me, in an eclipse
Lasting and universal! Sir, remember

There was a shooting in of light, when Richmond,
Not aiming at a crown, retired, and gladly,

For comfort to the duke of Bretaine's court.

Richard, who sway'd the sceptre, was reputed
A tyrant then; yet then, a dawning glimmer'd
To some few wand'ring remnants, promising day
When first they ventur'd on a frightful shore,
At Milford Haven-

Daw. Whither speeds his boldness?
Check his rude tongue, great sir.

K. Hen. O, let him range:

The player's on the stage still, 'tis his part;
He does but act. What follow'd?

War. Bosworth Field;

Where, at an instant, to the world's amazement,
A morn to Richmond, and a night to Richard,
Appear'd at once: the tale is soon applied;
Fate which crown'd these attempts when least
assured,

Might have befriended others, like resolv'd.

K. Hen. A pretty gallant! thus, your aunt of
Burgundy,

Your dutchess aunt inform'd her nephew; so
The lesson prompted, and well conn'd, was moulded
Into familiar dialogue, oft rehearsed,

Till, learnt by heart, 'tis now received for truth.
- War. Truth, in her pure simplicity, wants art
To put a feigned blush on: scorn wears only
Such fashion as commends to gazers' eyes
Sad ulcerated novelty, far beneath

The sphere of majesty: in such a court
Wisdom and gravity are proper robes,
By which the sovereign is best distinguish'd
From zanies to his greatness.

K. Hen. Sirráh, shift

Your antick pageantry, and now appear

In

your own nature, or you'll taste the danger Of fooling out of season.

War. I expect

No less, than what severity calls justice,

And politicians safety; let such beg

As feed on alms: but, if there can be mercy

In a protested enemy, then may it

Descend to these poor creatures, whose engage

ments,

To th' bettering of their fortunes, have incurr'd
A loss of all; to them, if any charity

Flow from some noble orator, in death,

I owe the fee of thankfulness.

K. Hen. So brave!

What a bold knave is this! Which of these rebels

Has been the mayor of Cork?

Daw. This wise formality: Kneel to the king, ye rascals! K. Hen. Canst thou hope

[They kneel.

A pardon, where thy guilt is so apparent?

J. a-Wat. Under your good favours, as men are men, they may err; for I confess, respectively, in taking great parts, the one side prevailing, the other side must go down: herein the point is clear, if the proverb hold, that hanging goes by destiny, that it is to little purpose to say, this thing, or that, shall be thus, or thus; for, as the fates will have it, so it must be; and who can help it? Daw. O blockhead! thou a privy-counsellor?

Beg life, and cry aloud,

Henry!"

"Heaven save king

J. a-Wat. Every man knows what is best, as it happens; for my own part, I believe it is true, if I be not deceived, that kings must be kings, and subjects subjects: but which is which, you shall pardon me for that;-whether we speak or hold our peace, all are mortal, no man knows his end. K. Hen. We trifle time with follies. All. Mercy, mercy!

K. Hen. Urswick, command the dukeling and these fellows

[They rise.

To Digby, the lieutenant of the Tower:
With safety let them be convey'd to London.
It is our pleasure no uncivil outrage,

Taunts, or abuse be suffer'd to their persons;

They shall meet fairer law than they deserve.

Time may restore their wits, whom vain ambition Hath many years distracted.

War. Noble thoughts

Meet freedom in captivity: the Tower?

Our childhood's dreadful nursery.

K. Hen. No more!

Urs. Come, come, you shall have leisure to bethink you.

[Exit URS. with PERKIN and his followers, guarded.

K. Hen. Was ever so much impudence in forgery?

The custom sure of being stiled a king,

Hath fasten'd in his thought that he is such;