2739 1874 r V^' >- A '4 w"^ 99. CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY GIFT OF James Hcrrgan Wp.vt DATE DUE Cornell University Library PR 2739.R8W5 1874 When you see me, you know me.A chronicle 134 113 lOo'l S Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013134113 WHEN YOU SEE ME, YOU KNOW ME. "^W^jxm SEE ME, YOU KNOW ME. A CHRONICLE-HISTORY BY SAMUEL ROWLEY. EDITED WITH AN INTRODUCTION AND NOTES BY KARL ELZE, PH. D. HON. M. B. S. L. DESSAU: EMIL BARTH, 1874. London : Williams and Nokgate. •a s %' 'if *'^- ^z&^S5s V.¥CUMNVSlO V "» X^CMTsjtO -XtkNV c^. tianir INTRODUCTION. Samuel Eowlev shares the fate of many minor poets of the Elizabethan age, of whose lives no record has reached us. We know nothing of him except that he was 'Servant to the Prince', i. e. Prince Henry, and that he probably died between 1632 and 1634. The former fact he states himself on the title of his Chronicle-History ' When you see me , you know me\ while the latter circumstance, overlooked hitherto by the bibliographers, is to be collected from the Publisher's preface to his tragedy of 'The Noble Soldier' (1634), where this play is termed a ' Poslhumus' . ' The last quarto of ' When you see me, you know me' (1632) has no publisher's or printer's preface, which was usual only in posthumous publications, and was therefore most probably published in the life-time of the author. Besides these two printed plays of Samuel Rowley Mr. Halli- well in his Dictionary of Old English Plays enumerates six manuscript ones, the titles of which are almost all taken from Sir Henry Herbert's manuscript diary. They are: 1. Judas, written by Samuel Eowley and William Borne and acted in 1601. 2. Sampson, a play, by Edward Jubye, assisted by Samuel Rowley. Acted in 1602. 3. Joshua, acted by the Lord Admiral's Servants, 1602. 'JSTot now known', adds Mr. Halliwell. 4. Hymen's Holiday; or, Cupid's Fayaries [sic!], acted at Court in 1612, and revived with some alterations, before the king and queen at Whitehall, 1633. 'Although on the title of Tito Noble Holdur the author's name is only indicated by the initials S. E , yet by tradition and common consent it is ascribed to Samuel Eowley. iv INTKODUCTION. 5. Bichard the Third, thus alluded to by Sir Henry Herbert under the date of July 27th, 1623, — 'for the Palsgrave's players, a tragedy of Richard the Third, or the English Profit, with the Eeformation, written by Samuel Kowley'. 6. Hard Shift Jor Husbands, mentioned by Sir Henry under the date of October 29th, 1623, in the following words: 'for the Palsgrave's players, a new comedy called Hard Shifle for Husbands, or Bilboes the Best Blade, written by Samuel Rowley. ' It would hardly be worth while to search for these manuscripts, since the two printed plays raise no great appe- tite for more. In a dramatic and poetical point of view they are of very indifferent value and the Chronicle History ' Wlien you see me, you Icnoiv me' is the only one which may lay claim to literary interest and consequence, having in all probability served Shakespeare as an inducement to dramatize the life of Henry VIII., a subject which at the end of the sixteenth and in the beginning of the seventeenth century seems to have '" been highly popular with the dramatists of the age. We know from Honslowe's Diary that in 1601 and 1602 'The Rising of Cardinal Wolsey' byMunday, Drayton, Chettle, and Wentworth Smith and Chettle's 'Cardinal Wolsey' were on the stage, and Shakespeare's K. Henry VIII. was most i_ likely written only a year later. ^ Rowley's ' When you see me, you know me' was no doubt produced about the same time and was first published in 1605 (QA) by Nathaniel Butter. There can be little doubt that it was this piece to which the wellknown entry of an Enter lude on K. Henry VIII., made for Butter on the Stationers' Books in 1604, refers. The buffoonery of the scenes in which King Henry walks the City in disguise, makes the acquaintance of Black Will, and together with him is 'clapped' in the Counter ; ' Only two of those six ijlays are niontioned liy Mv. Allibone , viz. Joshua and Hymen's Holiday. ^On this and some other points compare Jahr/juch dcr Betttseheit Shakespeare-Gesellsohaft IX, 55 seqq. IXTRODUCTIOK. v the prominent part which the two fools take not only in the dialogue, but even in the action of the play (which latter in Shakespeare's play s is nowhere the case) ; the breeching of Edward Browne, Prince Edward's 'soujfre-douleur, maj' well jus- tify the title of Enterlude given by a careless publisher, although the author on better thought ultimately chose that of a Chron- icle - History. The comic parts intrude into the presence- chamber of the King himself, and the King, the Queen and their guest, the Emperor of Germany, are made to crack rather low jokes with the fool, while Shakespeare in his Henry VIII. has raised the whole into a higher sphere of dignity and re- finement and has admitted the comic element only where he introduces the crowd, gathered in the streets and in the palace- yard. Perhaps it was just this savouring of the old Enterlude which won such a lasting popularity for Eowley's play, for it was republished in 1613 (QB) , 1621 (QC), and 1632 (QD). The Bodleian Library is in possession of all these quartos, whereas the British Museum can only boast of copies of QB and QD. Watt (Bibl. Brit.) only knows QB and QD and Mr. Halliwell (Diet. Old English Plays) only QA and QD ; the latter might have known better, if he had compared Lowndes. The three quartos QB, QC, and QD contain 42 leaves each and have 38 lines on each page; in all quartos, with the exception of QA, each page beginning and ending with the same words. Another copy is preserved in the Dyce- Bequest at the South Kensington Museum , but unfortunately the imprint has been cut off, so that only a minute compari- son with the Oxford copies can show which edition it is. The exact titles of the four quartos are as follows : QA. When you see me You know me Or the famous Chronicle Historic of King Henry the eight, with the birth and vertuous life of Edward Prince of Wales. As it was playd by the high and mightie Prince of Wales his servants. By Samuell Rowly, servant to the Prince. London Imprinted for Nathaniell Butter , and are to be sold in Paules Church- T INTKODUCTION. yeard neare Saint Aastines gate, 1605. (Bodleian Library, Maloue Add. 829.) QB. The title coincides with that of QA as far as 'servant to the Pjince' ; it then proceeds : At London, Printed for Nathaniell Butter, and are to be sold at his shop in Panics Church-yard neare S. Austines gate 1613. (Bodleian Library, Malone 186. British Museum C 34. e. 2.) Q,C. A few slight orthographical variations excepted the title is the- same as that of QB. 1621. (Bodleian Library, Malone Add. 830). QD. The title diifers only in the imprint, which runs thus :■ At London, Printed by B.A. and T.F. for Nath : Butter, and are to be sold at his shop in St. Pauls Church -yard, neare St. Austins Gate. 1632. (Bodleian Library, Douce Collection E. 130 [?]. British Museum C. 34. e. 3.) In the same year with the first quarto Nathaniel Butter brought out Thomas Heywood's 'If you know not me, you knoic nobody'. Not only does this title curiously correspond with that of Rowley's piece , but both are embellished by whole- length woodcuts the one of Henry VIII. (after the wellknown picture by Holbein) , the other of Elizabeth The first part of Heywood's play was reprinted simultaneously with that of Eowley in 1613 and 1632 (as also in 1606 and 1608); 'the second part, says Mr. Collier, was- originally published in 1606, and reprinted in 1609, 1623, and 1633, all the editions be- ing in 4to. One would think that the title of 'If you knoic not me, you know nobody' was meant to insinuate , that Queen Elizabeth was represented so life-like in the play, that every spectator or reader should know her at once, if he knew any person at all. A different explanation, however, is intimated in the play itself, where Old Hobson, a rich City - merchant, being asked by the Queen: Friend, what ai-e your, bluntly replies : Knowe.'it thou not me. Queen ? then thou knowosf nobody. INTRODUCTION. vii Bones a me, Queen, I am Hobson ; old Hobson, By the stocks : I am sure, you know me. ' It is evident , that Shakespeare's art and genius cannot be fully appreciated, if not compared to the -works of his con- temporaries, especially when, as it is the case in the present instance, the same subject has been treated. This reason would of itself go far to justify the publication of even subordinate dramatic productions of the Elizabethan age ; it is , ho■^A'ever, greatly strengthened, if it can be shown or made probable, that a play has stood in some nearer relation to Shakespeare, either as a source, a forerunner, or an imitation. Such a re- lation seems to have subsisted between Eowlcj-'s ' When you see me, you know me' and Shakespeare's K. Henrj" VIII. and will ensure to the former a permanent literary value. It is from this point of view that Mr. Collier in his edition of Armin's Nest of Ninnies (published for the Shakespeare So- ciety) speaks in favour of Rowley's play, 'which, he says, is a singular picture of manners and of the mode, in whieh, just after the death of Elizabeth , her father was exhibited at the public theatres. In this view ' When you see vie , you know me' may be said to have a direct relation to the Henry VIII. of our groat dramatist and may well deserve to be hereafter re- printed bj- the Shakespeare Society.' This intention , however, was never realized, but has remained a j)ium desldenum. Notwithstanding the different spirit that pervades the two works of Shakes23eare and Rowley , there are so many stri- king coincidences between them as to induce us to the belief not only that Shakespeare was ac(iuainted with Rowley's play before it was printed — which may be taken for granted without anj- argument — but that Rowley's play was acted before Shakespeare wrote his K. Henry VIII. and that Shakc- .spcare took a series of traits from it — traits, which, to tell the truth, with Rowley are nothing but dross, but were turned ^ into gold by the magic hand of Shakespeare. ^ Mr. Colliei''s edition, printed for tlie .Shtikespearc Sorioly, \i. 1,36, viii INTRODUCTION. King Henry, who of course must be first introduced to the reader's notice, with both poets makes frequent use of his favourite ejaculation Ha !, while his favourite oaths 'Mother o God, Body o' me', &c., no less frequently introduced by Row- ley, were suppressed by Shakespeare ; by both poets he is exhibited leaning on the shoulder of some one of his intimate courtiers, by both walking in the gallei-y as was his 'custom always of the afternoon'.' Both poets show the king's angrj' impatience when interrupted in his privacy ; the only difference is, that with Rowley it is Wolsey who provokes the king's rage by his impertinence, whereas with Shakespeare (II, 2) the dukes of Suffolk and Norfolk have to 'endure the storm' on such an occasion. The unceremonious intrusion of an over- hasty messenger into the king's presence and his angry re- pulsion by the latter have been transferred by Shakespeare to the dying-scene of Queen Katherinc. With Rowley, who is as unceremonious as the messenger himself, .the poor fellow is mercilessly kicked out by the king. The incident of the king's sending his ring to Cranmer is also common to both, poets. Rowley makes the king say : Sir William Compton, here take my ring, Bid Doctor Cranmer haste to court again, Give him that token of king Henry's love, Discharge our guards, we fear no traitor's hand. Our state, beloved of all, doth firmly stand ; Go, Compton. With Shakespeare the king gives the ring in person with the words (V, 1): If entreaties Will render you no remedy, this ring Deliver them, and your appeal to us There make before them. ''Walking in the gallery' seems to have been .imong the pastimes of Shakespeare's contemiioraries ; compare The Puritan 11, 1; Mary. Sir John Pennydub ? where? where ^ Frrnllij He's walking in the gallery. INTKODUCTION. ix On the whole the perusal of Eowley's play will satisfy the reader that Shakespeare has bestowed evident care on show- ing the character of the king in a favourable light. If Queen Elizabeth should have been acquainted with the two dramas 'When you see me, you knov me' and King Henry VIII. she must have been shocked by Kowley's portrait of her father, but could not have helped being pleased with his likeness as drawn by 'gentle' Shakespeare. In the delineation of Cardinal Wolscy no fewer features are common to both poets. With Eowley the fool reproaches tlie cardinal with keeping 'a fair leman at Charlton', and Shakespeare, who banished the fool from his play, has put the same reproach into the Earl of Surrey's moutli (III, 2) : I'll startle you Worse than the sacring bell, when the brown wencli Lay kissing in your arms, lord cardinal. The fatal iniluence which the cardinal exercises over the king is by both poets ascribed to his wonderful eloquence. With Rowley Wolsey boasts of having 'so won Great England's lord with words' That under colour of advising him, I overrule both council, court, and king. In Shakespeare's K. Henry VIII., Ill, 2 the Lord Chamber- lain says : If you cannot Bar his access to the king, never attempt Any thing on him ; for he hath a witch-craft Over the king in's tongue. Further on both poets derive the cardinal's downfall almost in the self-same words from the same causes : from his ex- torting large sums from the people and heaping up immense treasures, with which to attain the last object of his ambition, the papal throne; from the arrogant formula '£ DOCTOR TYE. Young EDWARD BROWNE. EOKESBY, Groom of the Wardrobe WILL SUMMERS, Fool to the king. PATCH, Fool to Cardinal Wolsey A Messenger. A Constable. PIUCHALL, CARCASE, DORMOUSE, &f,. Watchmen. BLACK WILL. Keeper, Porter, and Prisoners in the Counter. QUEEN JANE SEYMOUR. QUEl^N K.\THAR1NE PARE. LADY MARY, sister to K. Henry. COUNTESS OF SALlSBaEY, Ladies, Attendants, and Servants. Enter the Cardikal with the Ambassadors ov France, in all state and royalttj, the Purse and Mace before him. Wol. Gentlemen, give leave! You great ambassadors From Francis, the most Christian king of France, My Lord of Paris and Lord Bonuivet, Welcome to England ! Since the king j-our master Entreats our furtherance to advance his peace, Giving us titles of high dignity. As next elect to Rome's supremacy, Tell him, we have so wrought with English Henr)- (Who as his right hand loves the cardinal) That undelayed )'ou shall have audience. And this day will the king in person ait To hear your message and to answer it. Bonniv. Ypur grace hath done us double courtes)-. For so much doth the king our master long To have an answer of this ambassage, As minutes are thought months till we return, Paris. And that's the cause his highness moves your grace To quick dispatch betwixt the king and him. And for a quittance of 3'our forwardness And hopeful kindness to the crown of France, Twelve reverend bishops are sent post to Rome, Both from his highness and the emperor. To move Campeius and the cardinals For your election to the papal throne, That Wolse}''s head may wear the triple crown. Wol. We thank his highness for rememb'ring us, And so salute m}' lord the emperor. Both which (if Wolsey be made Pope of Rome) Shall be made famous through all Christendom. Enter Bonxee. How now, Bonner? 4 WHEN YOU SEE ME, Bon. Sir William Compton from his highness comes To do a message to your excellence. Wol. Delay him awhile and tell him we are busy. Meantime, my lords, you shall withdraw yourselves; Our private conference must not be known. Let all your gentlemen in their best array Attend you bravply to king Henry's court, Where we in person presently will meet j'ou, And doubt not we'll prevail successfully. Bonniv. But hath your grace yet mov'd his highness' sister For kind acceptance of our sovereign's love ? Wol. I have, and by the king's means finish'd it. And yet it was a task, I tell ye, lords. That might have been impos'd to Hercules, To win a lady of her spirit and years To see her first love crown'd with silver hairs. As old king Lewis is, that bedrid lies, Unfit for love or worldlj' vanities. Bonniv. But 't is his country's peace the king respects. Wol. We think no less and we have fully wrought it. The emperor's forces that were levied To invade the frontiers of Low Burgundy, Are stayed in Brabant by the king's command. The Admiral Hayward that was lately sent. With threescore sail of ships and pinnaces. To batter down the towns in Normandy, Is by our care for him call'd home again : Then doubt not of a fair successful end, Since Wolsey is esteem'd your sovereign's friend. Pari.?. We thank your excellence and take our leaves. Wol. Haste ye to court, I'll meet ye presently. Bonniv. Good morrow to your grace. [^Exeunt. Wol. Good morrow, lords. Go, call Sir William Compton in. We must have narrow eyes and quick conceit To look into these dangerous stratagems ; I will effect for France, as they for me. If Wolsey to the pope's high state attain, The league is kept, or else he'll break't again. Enter Bonnek and Compton. Now, good Sir William ? Comp. The king, my lord, entreats your reverend grace, There may be had some private conference Betwixt his highness and your excellence, YOU KNOW ME. 5 Before he hear the French ambassadors, And wills you hasten your repair to him. Wol. We will attend his highness presently. Bonner, see all our train be set in readiness, That in our state and pomp _pontifical We may pass on to grace King Henry's court. Comp. I have a message from the queen, my lord. Who much commends and humbly thanks j'our grace For your exceeding love and zealous praj^ers. By your directions through all England sent. To invocate for her sound prosperous help, By heaven's fair hand, in child-bed passions. Wol. We thank her highness, that accepts our lovo ; In all cathedral churches through the land Are masses, dirges, and professions sung. With prayers to heaven to bless her majesty And send her joy, and quick delivery. And so. Sir William, do my duty to her : Queen Jane was ever kind and courteous And always of her subjects honoured. Comp. I take mj' leave, my lord. [Exit. Wol. Adieu, good knight, we'll follow presently. Now, Wolsey, work thy wits like gads of steel, And make them pliable to all impressions, That king and queen and all may honour thee. So toil'd not Caesar in the state of Home, As Wolsej- labours in th' affairs of kings; As Hannibal with oil did melt the Alps, To make a passage into Italy, So must we bear our high-pitch'd eminence, To dig for glory in the hearts of men, Till we have got the papal diadem. And to this end have I compos'd this plot, And made a league between the French and us, x\nd match'd their aged king in holy marriage With Lady Mary, roj'al Henry's sister, That he, in peace complotting with the emperor, . May plead for us within the courts of Kome. Wherefore was Alexander's fame so great. But that he conquer'd and deposed kings? And where doth Wolsey fail to follow him, That thus commandeth kings and emperors ? Great England's lord have I so won with words. 6 WHEN YOU SEE ME, That, under colour of advising him, I overrule both council, court, and king. Let him command, but we will execute. Making our glory to out-shine his fame, Till we have purchas'd an eternal name. Enter Bonner. Now, Bonner, are those proclamations sent, As we directed, to the shrieves of London Of certain new devised articles For ordering those brothels call'd the Stewes ? Bon. They are ready, my lord, and the shrieve attends for them. Wol. Dispatch him quickly and haste after me, We must attend the king's high majesty. Sound trumpets. Enter King Henky the Eighth; Queen Jane big with child ; the Cardinal ; Charles Brandon, Dctke of Suffolk ; Dudley ; Gray ; Compton ; the Lady Mary ; the Countess of Salisbury, attending on the Queen. King. Charles Brandon, Dudley, and my good Lord Gray, Prepare yourselves and be in readiness To entertain these French ambassadors ; Meet them before our royal palace gate. And so conduct them to our majesty ; We mean this day to give them audience. Dud. Gray. We will, mj' lord. Bran. Let one attend without, And bring us word when they are coming on. King. How now. Queen Jane? Mother of God, my love, Thou wilt never be able to sit half this time. Ladies, I fear she'll wake you ere't be long, Methinks she bears her burden very heavily. And yet, good sister, and my honour'd lords. If this fair hour exceed not her expect, And pass the calendar of her accounts, She'll hear this embassage — Jane, wilt thou not? Qu. Jane. Yes, my dear lord; I cannot leave j-our sight, So long as life retains this mansion. In whose sweet looks bright sovereignty's enthroned, That make all nations love and honour thee ; Within thy frame sits awful majesty, Wreath'd in the curled furrows of thj- front: YOU KNOW ME. 7 Admir'd and fear'd even of thine enemies. To be witli thee is my felicity ; Not to behold the state of all the world, Could win thy queen, thy sick, unwieldy queen, To leave her chamber in this mother's state, But sight of thee, unequall'd potentate. King. God-a-mercy, Jane, reach mc thy princely hand: Thou art now a right woman, goodly, chief of thj^ sex, Methinks thou art a queen superlative. Mother o' God, this is a woman's glory, Like good September vines, loaden with fruit. How ill did they define the name of woman. Adding so foul a preposition. To call it woe to man, 'tis woe from man, If woe it be ; and, then, who does not know. That women still from men receive their woe? Yet they love men for it, but what's their gain? Poor fools ! no more but travail for their pain. Come, love, thou art sad: call Will Summers in, To make her merry; where's the fool to-day? Dud. He was met, my liege, they say at London Early this morning with doctor Skelton. Kinrj. He's ne'er from thence ; go, let a groom be sent And fetch him home. My good lord cardinal. Who are the chief of these ambassadors ? Wol. Lord Bonnivet, the French High Admiral, And John de Maze, reverend Bishop of Paris. King. Let their welcome be thj^ care good Wolsey. Wol. It shall, my liege. Enler Comptox. King. Spare for no cost. Compton, what news? Comp. Th' ambassadors, ray liege. King. Enough; go, give them entertainment. Lord! Charles Brandon, hear'st thou? Give them courtesy Enough, and state enough ; go and conduct them. Bran. I go, my lord. Enler Will Summeks booted and spurred.^ blowing a hum. King. How now, William? What, post post? Where have you been riding? Will. Out of my way, old Harry. Im am all on the spur, I can tell ye, I have tidings worth telling. 8 WHEN YOU SEE ME, King. Why, where hast thou been r Will. Marry, I rise early and ride post to London, to know what news was here at court. King. Was that your nearest way, William ? Will. 0, ay, the very foot-path; but yet I rid the horse- way to hear it. I warrant there is ne'er a conduit-head keeper in London, but knows what is done in all the courts of Christendom. Wol. And what is the best news there, William? Will. Good news for you, my lord cardinal, for one of the old women waterbearers told me for certain, that last Fri- day all the bells in Eome rang backward : there was a thousand dirges sung , six hundred Avemaries said , every man washed his face in holy water, the people crossing and blessing them- selves to send them a new pope, for the old is gone to Pur- gatory. Wol. Ha, ha, ha. Will. Nay , my lord, you'ld laugh, if it were so , indeed, for every body thinks, if the pope were dead, you gape for a benefice; but this news, my lord, is called too good to be true. Ki7ig. But this news came apace, Will, that came from Kome to London since Friday last. Will. For 'twas at Billingsgate by Saturday morning, 'twas a full moon, and it came up in a spring tide. King. Then you heard of the ambassadors that are come. Will. Ay, ay, and that was the cause of my riding, to know what they came for; I was told it all at a barber's. King. Ha , ha ! what a fool's this, Jane ; and what do they say he comes for, Will? Will. Marry, they say he comes to crave thy aid against the great Turk that vow^s to over-run all France within this fortnight , he's in a terrible rage belike , and they say the reason is, his old god Mahomet that was buried i'th' top on's church at Mecca, his tomb fell down and kill'd a sow and scyen pigs, whereupon they think all swines flesh is new sanctified, and now it is thought the Jews will fall to eating of pork extremely after it. King. This is strange indeed, but is this all? Will. No , there is other news that was told me among the women at a bake-house, and that is this: they say, the great bell in Glastonbury has tolled twice, and that king Ar- thur and his knights of the round table that were buried in YOU KNOW ME. 9 armour, are alive again, crying Saint (Jcorge for England, and mean shortlj' to conquer Eomo. Marry, this is thought to be but a moral. Kimj. The ambassadors are coming ; and hear , William, see that you bo silent, when you see them here. Will. I'll be wise and say little, I warrant thee, and there- fore, till I see them come, I'll go talk with the queen. How dost thou, Jane ? Sirrah Harrj-, she looks very big upon me, but I care not, an she bring thee a young prince : Will Sum- mers may haps be his fool, when you two arc both dead and rotten. KiiKf Go to, William. How now, Jane? what, groaning? God's me, tho'a hast an angry soldier's frown. Will. I think so, Harry: thou hast pressed her often. I am sure this two years she has served under thy standard. (2!'. Jane. Good faith, my lord, I must entreat your grace, That, with your favour, I may leave the presence ; I cannot stay to hear this embassage. Kinrj. God's holy mother ! Ladies, lead her to her chamber ; Go bid the midwives and the nurses wait. Make wholesome tires and take her from the air. Now, Jane, God ! bring me but a chopping boy, Be but a mother to a prince of Wales And a ninth Henry to the English crown. And thou mak'st full my hopes. Fair queen, adieu. And may heaven's helping hand our joys renew. Comp. God make your majesty a happy mother! Dud. And help you in year weakest passions! With zealous prayer we all will invocato The powers divine for your deliver}-. Qu. Jane. Wo thank ye all, and in fair interchange We'll pray for j'ou. Now, on my humble knees, I take my leave of your high majest]': God send your highness long and happy reign, And bless this kingdom and your subjects' lives. And to your gracious heart all joy restore! I fear I never shall behold you more. Kinc/. Do not think so, fair queen; go to thy bed, Let not my love be so discomfortijd. Will. No, no, I warrant thee, Jane, make haste and dis- patch this , that thou may'st have another against next Christmas. Kinff. Ladies, attend her! Countess of Salisbury! sister Mary ! 10 WHEN YOU SEE ME, Who first brings word that Harry hath a son, Shall be rewarded well. Will. Ay, I'll bo his surety: but do you hear, wenches, she that brings the first tidings, howsoever it fall out, let her be sure to say the child's like his father, or else she shall have nothing. Enter LoKDs and Ambassadoks. Kiny. Welcome, Lord Bonnivet! welcome, bishop! What from our brother brings this embassage? Bonniv. Most fair commends, great and renowned Henry. We, in the person of our lord and king, Hero of your highness do entreat a league, And to re-edify the former peace. Held 'twixt the realms of England and of France, Of late disordered, for some petty wrongs ; And pray your majesty to stay your powers, Already levied in Low Burgundy; Which to maintain our oaths shall be engaged, And to confirm it with more surety, He craves your fair consent unto his love, And give the Lady Mary for his queen. The second sister to your royal self. So may an heir, springing from both your bloods, Make both realms happy by a lasting league. King. We kindly do receive your master's love; And yet our grant stands strong unto his suit, H that no following censure feeble it: For wc herein must take our council's aid. But howsoever, our answer shall be swift. Meantime we grant you fair access to woo ,\nd win her (if you can) to be his queen; Ourself will second you. Right welcome both ! Lord cardinal, these lords shall be your guests. But let our treasure waste to welcome them : Banquet them, how they will, what cheer, what sport. Let them see, Harry keeps a kingly court. Wol. I shall, my sovereign. King. Withdraw awhile, ourselves we'll follow ye. [ExeunL WuLseij and Ambassadors. Now, Will, are you not deceiv'd in this embassage ? You heard, they came for aid against the Turk. YOU KNOW ME. 11 Will Well then , now I see, there is loud lies told in London ; but all's one, for their coming is to as much purpose as the other. Kinff. And whj-, I pray? Will. Why, dost thou think thy sister such a fool to marry such an old Dies Veneris to get her with prince? Aj', when either I, or the cardinal , prove pope, and that will never he, I hope. King. How knowest thou him to be old, thou never sawest him? Will. So , nor he me , but I saw his picture with ne'er a tooth i' th' head on't, and all his beard as well favoured as a white frost; but it is no matter, if he have her: he will die shortly, and then she may help to bury him. Enter Ladies. First Lady. Eun , run , good madam , call the ladies in : call for more woman's help, the queen is sick. Sec. Lady. For God's love, go back again, and warm more clothes, and let the wine be well burned, I charge ye. Will. Ay, in any case, or I cannot drink it. Dost thou hear, Harry, what a coil they keep? I warrant, these women will drink th6e up more wine with their gossiping than was spent in all the conduits at thy coronation. Enter Lady Mart and the Countess of Salisbury. King. 'Tis no matter, Will. How now, ladies? L. Mary. I beseech j'our grace, command the fool forth of the presence. King. Away, William ! j'ou must be gone, here's woman's matters in hand. Will. Let them speak low then. I'll not out of < he room, sure. Count. Sal. Come, come, let's thrust him out, he'll not stir else. Will. Thrust me ? Nay, an ye go on thrusting, I'll thrust some of you down, I warrant ye. King. Nay, go, good William. Will. I'll out of their company, Harry; they will scratch worse than cats, if they catch me, therefore I'll hence and leave. Good bye, ladies! Do j-ou hear. Madam Mary ? You had need to be wary, Mj- nciws is worth a white cake; You must play at tennis 3 12 WHEN YOU SEE ME, With old Saint Denis, And your maidenhead must lie at the stake. [^Exit. King. Ha, ha! The fool tells you true, my gentle sister. But to our business: how fares my queen? How fares my Jane r has she a son for me. To raise again our kingdom's sovereignty r L. Mmij. That yet rests doubtful, my princely lord! Your poor distressed queen lies weak and sick. And be it son or daughter, dear she buys it. Even with her dearest life, for one must die. All woman's help is past. Then, good my liege, Eesolve it quickly, if the queen shall live. The child must die, or if it life receive, You must your hapless queen of life bereave. King. You pierce me with j'our news. Eun, send for help. Spend the revenues of my crown for aid. To save the life of my beloved queen. How happed, she is so ill attended on, That we are put to this extremity, To save the mother, or the child to die: Count. Sal. I beseech your grace, resolve immediately. King. Immediately, sayst thou r , 'tis no ' quick resolve Can give good verdict in so sad a choice: To lose my queen, that is my sum of bliss, More virtuous than a thousand kingdoms be ; And should I lose my son (if son it be) That all my subjects so desire to see, I lose the hope of this great monarchy. What shall I do ? L. Mary. Eemember the queen, my lord. King. I not forget her, sister. poor soul ! But I forget thy pain and misery. Go, let the child die, let the mother live. Heaven's powerful hand may more children give. Away and comfort her with our reply, Harry will have his queen, though thousands die. [Exeunt ladien. I know no issue of her princely womb : Why then should I prefer't before her life. Whose death ends all my hopeful joys on earth? God's will be done, for sure it is his will. For secret reasons to himself best known. Perhaps he did mould forth a son for me YOU KNOW M]S. 13 And seeing (that sees all in his creation) To be some impotent and coward spirit, Unlike the figure of his royal father, Has thus decreed, least he should blur our fame, As whilome did the sixth king of mj- name Lose all his father (the fifth Henry) won; I'll thank the heavens for taking such a son. Who's within there? Enter Compton. Comp. My lord ? King. Go, Compton, bid Lord Se5rmour come to me, The honoured father of my woful queen. \Exii Compton. Enter Lady Mary vylth Attendants. How now, what news? L. Mary. We did deliver what your highness will'd. Which was no sooner by her grace receiv'd, But with the sad report she seemed as dead. Which caused us stay ; after recovery She sent us back to entreat your majesty. As ever you did take delight in her. As you prefer the quiet of her soul. That now is ready to forsake this life, As you desire to have the life of one : She doth entreat your grace that she ma}- die, Least both do perish in this agony : For to behold the infant sutfer death Were endless tortures, made to stop her breath. 'Then to my lord, quoth she, thus gently say : The child is fair, the mother earth and clay.' King. Sad messenger of woe! ray poor queen. Canst thou so soon consent to leave this life. So precious to our soul, so dear to all. To yield the hopeful issue of thy loins. To raise our second comfort ? Well, be it so ! Ill, be it so ! Stay, I revoke my word. But that, you say, helps not, for she must die: Yet, if ye can save both, I'll give my crown, Nay, all I have, and enter bonds for more. Which with my conquering sword, with fury bent, I'll purchase in the farthest continent. Use all your chiefe^t skill ! Make haste, away ! Whilst we for your success devoutly pray. \ R-xennt ladies. 3* 14 WHEN YOTJ SEE ME, Enter Loed Setmouh. Sey. All joy and happiness betide my sovereign! King. Joy be it, good Lord Seymour, noble father ! Or joy, or grief, thou hast a part in it. Thou com'st to greet us in a doubtful hour. Thy daughter and my queen lies now in pain, And if I lose, Seymour, thou canst not gain. Sey. Get comfort, good my liege, 'tis woman's woe; Why, 'tis as certain to her as her death. Both given her in her first creation: It is a sour to sweet, given them at first By their first mother; then put sorrow hence. Your grace ere long shall see a gallant prince. King. Be thou a prophet, Seymour ! In thy words Thy love some comfort to our hopes affords. Enter Cotjntess of Saiisbuet with another lady. How now? Count. Sal. My gracious lord, here I present to you A goodly son : see here your flesh and bone ! Look, royal lord, I warrant 'tis your own. Sey. See here, my liege, by the rood, a gallant prince ! King. Ha! little oakebread! 'Fore God, a chopping boy! Even now I wept with sorrow, now with joy. Take that for thy good news. How fares my queen r Enter Lady Maet with another lady. Count. Sal. my good lord, the woful — King. Tell me no more of woe! Speak, doth she live? What weep ye all? Nay, then my heart misgives: Eesolve me, sister! Is the news worth hearing? L. Mary. Not worth the telling, royal sovereign. King. Now, by mj"- crown, thou dimst my roj'alty. And with thy cloudj- looks eclips'st my joys. Thy silent eye bewrays a ruthfnl sound Stopp'd in the organs of thy troubled spirit: Say, is she dead? L. Mary. Without offence, she is. King. Without offence, sayst thou? Heaven take mys oul, What can be more offensive to my life. Than sad remembrance of my fair queen's death ? Thou woful man that cam'st to comfort me, How shall I ease thy heart's calamity, That cannot help myself ? How one sad minute YOU KNOW ME. 15 Hath raised a fount of sorrows in his eyes And bleared his aged cheeks! Yet, Seymour, see, She's left part of herself, a son to me, To thee a grandchild, to the land a prince, The perfect substance of his royal mother, In whom her memory shall ever live. .Phcenix Jana obiit, nato Phcenice: dolendum, Secula phmiices nulla tuUsse ducts. One phoenix dying, gives another life: Thus must we flatter our extremest grief. What day is this ? Comp. Saint Edward's even, my lord. Kinff. Prepare for christening : Edward shall be his name ! \^Exeimt. Enter the Oakdinal, AjiaASSADOfis, Bonnee, and Gakdinek. Wol. My lords of France , you 've had small cheer with us. But you must pardon us, the times are sad. And sorts not now for mirth and banqueting : Therefore I pray you, make your swift return, Commend me to your king and kindly tell him. The English cardinal will remain his friend. The Lady Mary shall be forthwith sent And overtake ye, ere you reach to Dover; And for the business that concerns the league. Urge it no more, but leave it to my care. Bonniv. We thank your grace, my good lord cardinal, And so with thankfulness we take our leaves. Wol. Happily speed, my honourable lords. My heart, I swear, still keeps you company. Farewell to both, and pray your king remember My suit betwixt him and the emperor: We shall be thankful, if they think on us. Par. We will be earnest in your cause, my lord, So of your grace we once more take our leaves. Wol. Again farewell. Bonner, conduct them forth. \JLxeunl. Now, Gardiner, what think' st thou of these times? Gar. Well, that the league's confirmed, my gracious lord : 111, that I fear the death of good queen Jane Will cause new trouble in our state again. Wol. Why think'st thou so? Gar. I fear, false Luther's doctrine's spread so far, 16 WHEN YOU SEE ME, Least that his highness, now unmarried, Should match amongst that sect of Lutherans. You saw, how soon his majesty was won To scorn the pope, and Rome's religion, When queen Anne Bullen wore the diadem. Wol. Gardiner, 'tis true; so was the rumour spread, But Wolsey wrought such means, she lost her head. Tush! Fear not thou ! Whilst Harry's life doth stand, He shall be king, but we will rule the land. Re-enter Bonjstek. Bonner, come hither ! You are our trusty friend. See that the treasure we have gathered. The copes, the vestments, and the chalices, The smoke-pence, and the tributary fees, That English chimneys pay the church of Eome, Be barrel'd close within the inner cellar; We'll send it over shortly, to prepare Our swift advancement to Saint Peter's chair. Be trusty and be sure of honours speedily: The king hath promis'd, at the next election, L Bonner shall have the bishopric of London. Bon. I humbly thank your grace. Wol. And Gardiner shall be Lord of Winchester. Had we our hopes, what shall you not be then, When we have got the papal diadem? [^Exeunl. Enter Beandon, Dudley, Gkat, SErinouE, Compiok. Bran. How now. Sir William Compton ? Where's the king r Comp. His grace is walking in the gallery, As sad and passionate as e'er he was. Dud. 'Twere good , your grace went in to com fort him. Bran. Not I, Lord Dudley, by my George, I swear: Unless his highness first had sent for me, I will not put my head in such a hazard; I know his anger and his spleen too well. Gray. 'Tis strange, this humour has his highness held Ever since the death of good queen Jane, That none dares venture to confer with him. Enter Caedinal, Sdilsiees, and Patch. Dud. Here comes the cardinal. Bran.- Ay, and two fools after him, his lordship is well attended still. VOU KNdVV ME. 17 Sey. Let's win this prelate to salutu the kiug, It may perhaps work his disgrace with him. Wol. How now, William? What, are you hero too? Will. Ay, my lord, all the fools follow you. I come to bid my cousin Patch welcome to the court, and when I come to York House, he'll do as much for me : will ye not, Patch ? Patch. Yes, cousin. Hey day, tirri diddle, hey day! [.S'i)"i/y.s. Wol. What ? Are you singing, sirrah ? Will. I'll make him cry as fast anon, I hold a penny. Dud. Good morrow to your grace, my good lord cardinal. Wol. We thank your honour. Enter King ivithin. King. What! Compton! Carew! \^Callii tciihiu. Bran. Hark! the king calls. King. Mother of God! How are we attended on! Who -fl^aits without? Bran. Go in, Sir William! and if you find his grace In any milder temper than he was last night, Let us have word, and we will visit him. Comp. I will, my lord. ^Exil. Wol. What is the occasion the king's so moved ? Bran. His grace hath taken such an inward grief With sad remembrance of the queen that's dead, That much his highness wrongs his state and person. Besides in Ireland do the Burkes rebel, And stout Pearsie, that disclosed the plot. Was by the Earl of Kildare put to death. And Martin Luther out of Germany Has writ a book against his majesty. For taking part with proud Pope Julius, Which being spread by him through Christendom, Hath thus incensed his royal majesty. Wol. Tush! I have news, my lord, to salve that sore. And make the king more feared through Christendom, Than ever was his famous ancestors: 'Not can base Luther, with his heresies. Backed by the proudest German potentate, Heretically blur king Henry's fame. For honour that he did Pope Julius, Who, in high favour of his majesty. Hath sent Campeius with a bull from Eorae, 18 WHEN YOU SEE ME, To add unto his title this high stile: That he and all his fair posterity Proclaimed Defenders of the Faith shall be; For which intent the holy cardinal's come As legate from the imperial court of Kome. Oray. This news, my lord, may something ease his mind : 'Twere good, your grace would go and visit him. Wol. I will, and doubt not but to please him well. \ExU. Sey. So ! I am glad he's in : an the king be no better pleased than, he was at our last parting , he'll make him re- pent his sauciness. Bran. How now, old William? How chance you go not to the king and comfort him ? Will. No, by'r ladjr, my lord. I was with him too lately already , his fist is too heavy for a fool to stand under. I went to him last night after you had left him, seeing him chafe so at Charles here , to make him merry : and he gave me such a box on the ear, that struck me clean through three chambers , down four pair of stairs ; I feU over five barrels into the bottom of the cellar, and if I had not well liquored myself there, I had never lived after it. Bran. Faith, Will, I'll give thee a velvet coat, an thou canst but make him merry. Will. Will ye, my lord? and I'll venture another box on the ear, but I'll do it. Enter Compton. Comp. Clear the presence there ; the king is coming. God's me, my lords, what meant the cardinal. So unexpected thus to trouble him? Qray. Is the king moved at it? Enter the Kins aiid Wolset. Comp. Judge by his countenance : see he comes ! Bran. I'll not endure tho storm. Dud. Nor I. Will. Kun fool, your master will be felled else. King. Did we not charge that none should trouble us? Presumptuous priest, proud prelate as thou art. How comes it, you are grown so saucy, sir, Thus to presume upon our patience. And cross our royal thought, disturbed and vex'd YOU KNOW :\[E. 19 By all your nugiigouoe in our estate Of us and of our country's happiness r Wol. My gracious lord! King. Thou fawning beast, stand back, Or by my crown, I'll foot thee to the earth! Where's Brandon, Surrey, Seymour, Gray? Where is your council now? 0, now ye crouch And stand like pictures at our presence door. Call in the guard and bear them to the Tower! Mother of God! I'll have the traitors' heads. Go, hail them to the block: up, up, stand up! I'll make ye know your duties to our state : Am I a cipher? is my sight grown stale? Am I not Harry? am I not England's king? Ha! Will. So la ! Now the watchword's given : nay, an ho once cry Ha ! ne'er a man in the court dare for his head speak again. Lie close, cousin Patch ! Patch. I'll not come near him, cousin ; he's almost killed me with his countenance. Kinff. We have been too familiar, now I see, And you may dally with our majesty. Where are my pages there? Enter Pages. First Page. My lord? King. Truss, sirrah ! None to put my garter on ! Give me some wine ! — Here's stuff at th'other side. — Proud cardinal, who followed our affairs in Italy, That we, that honoured so Pope Julius, By dedicating books, at thy request, Against that upstart sect of Lutherans, Should by that heretic be bandied thus? But by my George I swear, if Henry live, I'll hunt base Luther through all Germany, And pull those seven electors on their knees. If they but back him 'gainst our dignity. — Base slave, tie soft, thou hurt'st my leg ! — \/ [Tu the page. And now in Ireland the Burkes rebel, ^ And with their stubborn kerns make hourly roads, To burn the borders of the English pale: And which of all your counsels helps us now? Enter Compton vAth wine. Comp. Here's wine, my lord! 20 WHEN YOU .SEE ME, Kinrj. Drink and be damn'd ! — 1 cry theu mercy, Compton. What the devil meantst thou to come behind me so? I did mistake, I'll make thee amends for it. By holy Paul, I am so crossed and vex'd, I knew not what I did: and here at home Such careful statesmen do attend us, And look so wisely to our common-weal. That we have ill May-days, and riots made. For lawless rebels do disturb our state. Twelve times this term have we in person sat, Both in the Star-Chamber and Chancery-Courts, To hear our subjects' suits determined. Yet 'tis your office, Wolsey: but all of you May make a packhorse of king Harry now. Well, what would you say? Wol. Nothing that might displease your majesty; I have a message from the pope to you. King. Then keep it still, we will not hear it yet: Get all of you away, avoid our presence. We cannot yet command our patience. [Exeunt Wolsey, lords Sj-c. Keach me a chair ! Bran. Now, Will, or never! Make the king but smile. And with thy mirthful toys allay his spleen. That we, his council, may confer with him. And by mine honour, I'll reward thee well. To him, good Will! Will. Not too fast, I pray, least Will Summers ne'er be seen again : I know his qualities as well as the best on ye, for ever when he's angry, and nobody dare speak to him, ye thrust me in by the head and shoulders, and then we fall to buffets, but I know who has the worst on't : but go, my lord, stand aside, and stir not, till I call ye ; let my cousin Patch and I alone, an he go a-boxing, we'll fall both upon him, that's certain : but an the worst come , be sure that the car- dinal's fool shall pay for't. B7'an. Use your best skill, good William: I'll not be seen, unless I see him smile. [Exit Brandon. Will. Where art thou, cousin ? Alas, poor fool, he's crept under the table : up, cousin , fear nothing , the storm's past, I warrant thee. Patch. Is the king gone, cousin? Will. No, no, yonder he sits : we are all friends now, the YOU KNOW ME. 21 lords are gone to dinner , and thou and 1 must wait at the king's table. Patch. Not I, by'r lady, I would not wait [upon such a lord for all the livings in the land : I thought he would have killed my lord cardinal, he looked so terribly. Will. Foh, he did but jest with him; but I'll tell thee, cousin, the rarest trick to be revenged at's passes, and I'll- give thee this fine silk point an thou'lt do it. Patch. brave, brave, give me it, cousin, and I'll do whatsoever 'tis. Will. I'll stand behind the post here, and thou shalt go softly stealing behind him as he sits reading yonder, and when thou comest close to him, cry Bo! and we'll scare him so, he shall not tell where to rest him. Patch. But will he not be angry? TTO. No, no, for then I'll show myself, and after he sees who tis, he'll laugh and be as merry as a mag-pie, and thou'lt be a made man by it, for all the house shall see him hug thee in his arms and dandle thee up and down with hand and foot as thou wert a football. Patch. fine! Come, cousin, give me the point first, and I'll roar so loud, that I'll make him believe, that the devil's, come. Will. So do and fear nothing, for an thou wert the devil himself he'll conjure thee, I warrant thee: I would not have such a conjuring for twenty crowns: but when he has made way, rU make him merry enough, I doubt it not: so now, cousin, look to your coxcomb. Patch. Bo ! King. Mother of God, what's that? Patch. Bo ! King. Out ass, and tumble at my feet, For thus I'll spurn thee up and down the house. Patch. Help, cousin, help. Will. No, cousin , now he's conjuring ; I dare not come near him. King. Who set this natural here to trouble me? Enter Compton. Who's that stands laughing there ? The fool ! Ha , ha ! Where's Compton ? Mother o' God, I have found his drift : 'tis the craftiest old villain in Christendom. Mark, good Sir William, 22 WHEN YOU SEE ME, because the fool durst not come near himself, seeing our anger, he sent this silly ass, that we might wreak our royal spleen on him, whilst he stands laughing to behold the jest: by th' blessed Lady, Compton, I'll not leave the fool to gain a mil- lion, he contents me so. Come hither. Will ! Will. I'd know whether ye have done knocking first : my cousin Patch looks pitifully. Ye had best be friends with us, I can tell you : we'll scare you out of your skin else. King. Alas, poor Patch: hold, sirrah, there's an angel to buy you points. Will. La, cousin, did not I say, he'll make much on ye r Patch. Ay, cousin, but he's made such a singing in my head, I cannot see where I am. Will. All the better , cousin, an your head fall a singing, your feet may fall a dancing and so save charges to the piper. Eing. Will Summers, pr'ythee , tell me why didst thou send him first? Will. Because I'd have him have the first fruits of thy fury. I knew, how the matter stood with the next that dis- turbed thee, therefore I kept i' th' rearward, that if the battle grew too hot, I might run presently. King. But wherefore came ye? Will. To make thee leave thy melancholy and turn merry man again : thou hast made all the court in such a pitiful case as^ passes. The lords has attended here this four days and none dares speak to thee, but thou art ready to chop off their heads for it : and now I, seeing what a fretting fury thou continuedst in, and every one said 'twould kill thee if thou keptst it, pulled e'en up my heart and vowed to loose my head, but I'd make thee leave it. Ki7ig. Well, William , I am beholding to ye. Ye shall have a new coat and cap for this. Will. Nay, then I shall have two new coats and caps,, for Charles Brandon promised me one before to perform this enterprise. King. He shall keep his word. Will. Go, call him in, Call in the lords, tell them our spleen is calm'd : Mother o' God, we must give way to wrath. That chafes our royal blood with anger thus, And use some mirth, I see, to comfort us. Enter BE.iNDON and other Lokds. Draw near us, lords; Charles Brandon, list to me, YOU KNOW ME. 23 Will Summers here must have a coat of you, But Patch has earned it dearest : where's the fool ? Will. He's e'en creeping as near the door as he can ; he'd fain be gone, T see, an he could get out. Wouldst thou not, cousin ? Patch. Yes, cousin Will; I'd fain be walking, lam afraid I am not as I should be. Will. Come, I'll help thee out then. Dost thou hear, my lord cardinal, your fool is in a pitiful taking; he smells ter- ribly. Wol. You arc too crafty for him, William. King. So is he, Wolsey, credit me. Will. I think so , my lord : as long as Will lives , the ^ Z'^*'^ cardinal's fool must give way to the king's fool. /Vi^* King. Well, Sir, he quiet; and my reverend lords, I thank you for your patient suffering: We were disturbed in our thoughts, we swear, We now entreat you speak, and we will hear. Wol. Then may it please your sacred majesty, Campeius, legate to his holiness. Attends with letters from the court of Rome. Ki?ig. Let him draw near, we'll give him audience : Dudley and Gray, attend the cardinal, .\nd bring Campeius to our presence here. Dud. Gray. We go, my lord. [Exmul. Enter CAjrPEius loith the other Legates, rind Lorda. King. Brandon and Seymour, place yourselves by us, To hear this message from his holiness. You reverend princes, pillars of the church. Legates apostolic, how fares the pope ? Cam. In health, great king, and from his sacred lips I bring a blessing -apostolical To English Henry and his subjects all: And more to manifest his love to thee. The prop and pillar of the church's peace, And gratify thy love, made plain to him In learned books 'gainst Luther's heresy. Ho sends me thus to greet thy majesty. With stile and titles of high dignity: Command the heralds and the trumpets forth. Seij. Gentlemen, dispatch and call them in. Will. Lord bless us, what's here to do nowr 24 WHEN YOU SEE ME, Cam. Eeeeive this bull sent from his holiness For coniirmation of this dignity To thee and to thy fair posterity. Will. 'Tis well the king is a widower: an ye had put forth your bull with his horns forward, I'd have marred your message, I can tell ye. King. Peace, Will ! Heralds, attend him ! Cam. Trumpets prepare, whilst we aloud pronounce This sacred message from his holiness. And in his reverend name I here proclaim, Henry the Eighth, by the Grace of God, King of England, France, and Ireland, And to this title from the pope we give : Defender of the Faith in peace to live. Wol. Sound trumpets, and God save the king! King. We thank his holiness for this princely favour, Receiving it with thanks and reverence. In which, whilst we have life, his grace shall see. Our sword Defender of the Faith shall be. Go one of you, salute the mayor of London, Bid him with heralds and with trumpets' sound Proclaim our titles through his government : Go, Gray, and see it done; attend him, fellows! Gray. I go, my lord ; trumpets, follow me. [Exit. King. What more, lord legate, doth his holiness will? Cam. That Henry, joining with the Christian kings Of France and Spain, Denmark and Portugal, Would send an army to assail the Turk, That now invades with war the isle of Rhodes, Or send twelve thousand pounds to be dispos'd, As his holiness thinks best, for their relief. Will. I thought so ; I knew 'twould be a money matter when all's done. Now thou'rt Defender of the Faith, the pope will have thee defend every thing : himself and all. King. Take hence the fool. Will. Ay, when ?. can ye tell ? Dost thou think any o'th lords will take the fool ? None here , I warrant , except the cardinals. King. What a knavish fool's this : lords , you must bear' with him. Come hither. Will: what sayst thou to this new title given us by the pope? Speak, is it not rare? Will. T know not how rare it is, but I know how dear YOU KNOW ME. 25 'twill be , for I perceive 'twill cost thee twelve thousand pounds at least, besides the cardinal's cost in coming. King. All that's nothing ; the title of Defender of the Faith is worth ye twice as mucli : say, is it not ? Will. Eo, by my troth ; dost hear, old Harry, I am sure the true faith is able to defend itself without thee, and as for the pope's faith — good faith! 'tis not worth a farthing, and therefore give him not a penny. King. Go to , sirrah , meddle not you with the pope's matters ! Will. Let him not meddle with thy matters then: for an he meddle with thee, I'll meddle with him, that's certain, and so farewell. I'll go and meet my little young master. Prince Edward : thej- say he comes to court to-night : I'll to horse- back, pr'ythee Harry, send one to' hold my stirrup. Shall I tell the prince what the pope has done? King, kj , an thou wilt. Will; he shall be Defender of the Faith too, one day. Will. No, an he and I can defend ourselves, we care not, for we are sure the faith can. [Exit- King. Lord legate, so we reverence Eome and you, As nothing you demand shall be denied : The Turk will we e.xpel from Christendom, Sending stout soldiers to his holiness, And money to relieve distressed Ehodes : So, if yon please, pass in to banqueting. Go, lords, attend them! Brandon and Compton, stay, We have some business to confer upon. Cam. We take our leave. [Exit. King. Most hearty welcome to my reverend lords! — So now to our business. Brandon, say, Hear ye no tidings from our sister Mary, Since her aiTival in the realm of France? Bran. Thus much wc heard, my lord: at Calais met her The youthful Dauphin, and the peers of France, And bravely brought her to the king at Tours, Where he both married her and crowned her queen. King. 'Tis well. Brandon and Compton, list to me, I must employ your aid and secrecy: This night we mean in some disguised shape To visit London and to walk the round. Pass through their watches and observe the care And special diligence to keep our peace. 26 WHEN YOU SEE ME, They say, night walkers hourly pass the streets, Committing theft and hated sacrilege. And slightly pass unstayed or unpunished. Go, Compton, go and get me some disguise, This night we'll see our City's government. Brandon, do you attend at Baynard's Castle, Compton shall go disguised along with me, Our swords and bucklers shall conduct us safe, But if we catch a knock to quit our pain, We'll put it up, and hie us home again. [^Exeunt. Enter the Constable and Watch. , Peichail, the Cobbler, being one, bearing a lantern. Const. Come, neighbours: we have a straight command Our watches be severely Itoked into : Much theft and murder was committed lately. There are two strangers, merchants of the Stilly ard. Cruelly slain found floating on the Thames, And greatly are the Stewes had in suspect, As places fitting for no better use: Therefore be careful and examine all. Perhaps we may attach the murderer. First Watch. jSTay, I assure ye, master constable, those stew houses are places of much slaughter and redemption, and manj- cruel deeds of equity and wickedness are committed there, for divers good men lose both their money and their computation by them, I abjure ye. How say you, neighbour Priohall? Prich. Neighbour Capcase, I know you're a man of cour- age, and for the merry cobbler of Limestreet, though I sit as low as Saint Faith's, I can look as high as Saint Paul's. I have in my days walked to the Stewes as well as my neigh- bours, but if the mad wenches fall to murdering once and cast men into the Thames, I have done with them : there's no deal- ing, if they carry fire in one hand and water i' th' tother. Const. Well, masters, we are now placed about the king's business. And I know ye all sufi^icient in the knowledge of it, I need not to repeat your charge again : Good neighbours, use your greatest care, I pray, And if unruly persons trouble ye. Call and I'll come: so, sirs, good night. [^Exit- Fimt Watch. God ye good night and twenty, sir; I war- rant ye , ye need not reconcile to our charge , for some one YOU KNOW ME. 27 ou us has discharged the place this forty year, I am sure. ISTeighhours, what thiuk you best to be done? PHch. Every man according to his calling, neighbour: if the enemy come, here lies my town of garrison, I set on him as I set on a patch: if he tread on this side, I underlay him on this side, or prick him through both sides, I yerk him and trick him , pare him and piece him , then hang him up by th' heels till Sunday. First Watch. How say ye? By my faith, neighbour Priohall, ye speak to the purpose : for indeed, neighbours, if every man take a nap now i' th' forehand o' th' night and go to bed after- ward ? Prkli. That were not amiss neither, but an you'll take but every man his pot first, you'll sleep like the man i' th' moon, i'faith. Sec. Watch. Do ye think, neighbour, there is a man i' th' moon ? First Watch. I assure ye, in a clear day I have .seen't at midnight. Sec. Watch. Of what occupation is he, trow ? I'rich. iSome thinks he's a shepherd, because on's dog, some says he's a baker goiiig to heat his o^'en with a bavin at's back; but the plain truth is, I think, he is a cobbler ^/>^ iC fii^ for ye know what the song says: — -^tUjC "^^^/^ , ^/••/ I see a man i' th' moon, Uf^/CU^ (J (I . f^Q. Fie, man, fie, r ' I see a man i' th' moon, Clouting Saint Peter's shoon — and so by this reason he should be a cobbler. First Watch. By my fekins, he saith true. Alas, alas, goodman Dormouse hath even given up the ghost already: 'tis an honest quiet soul, I warrant ye. Prick. It behoves us all to be so. How do ye, neighbour Dormouse ? Dorm. God speed ye, (J oil speed ye! Xay, an ye go a God's name, I have nothing to say to ye. Sec. Watch. La ye, his mind's on business, though he be , ne'er so .sleepy. Prich. Come, let's all join with him and steal a nap, every man, my masters, to his several stall. Sec. Watch. Agreed; good night, good neighbours. Prich. Nay, let's take no leave, I'll but wink a-while and see you again. 28 WHEN YOU .SEE ME, — - ' Enter Kink and Compton iKdh. hills on thecr h(ti-k.<. KiiKj. Come, Sir William, We ma}' now stand upon our guard, you seo. The watch has given us leave to arm ourselves, They fear no danger, for they sleep secure. Go, carry those bills we took to Jiaynard's Castle, And bid Charles Brandon to disguise himself And meet me presently at Graoeohuroh Corner ; Wc will attempt to pass through all the Avatches, And so I take't, 'twill bo an easy task: Therefore make haste. Comp. I will, my liege. Kilty. The watchword, if I chance to send to ye, Is, The Great Stag of Baydon — so my name shall bo. Comjj. Enough, we'll think on it. \_Exil. Kinij. So now we'll forward. Soft, yonder's a light, Ay, and a watch, and all asleep — by'r lady ! These are good peaceable subjects : here's none Beckons to any, all may pass in peace. Ho sirrah ! Prifh. Stand, who goes there r KiiKj. A good felloAV. 'Stand' is a heinous word i'th' king's highway: you have been at noddy, 1 see. Pri(^\- Ay , and the first card comes to my hand is a knave. Kiny. I am a court-card indeed. Prich. Then thou must needs be a knave , for thou art neither king nor queen, I am sure ; but whither goest thou r Kincj. About a little business that I have in hand. Prich. Then good night, pr'ythee trouble me no longer. Kiny. Why, this is easy enough, here's passage at pleasure, What wretch so wicked, would not give fair words After the foulest fact of villany, That may escape unseen so easily. Or what should let him, that is so resolv'd, To murder, rapine, theft, or sacrilege r I see the City are the sleepy heads To do it, and pass thus examined. Fond, heedless men, what boots it for a king To toil himself in highest state affairs, To summon parliaments and call together The wisest heads of all his provinces YOU KNOW ME. 29 For making statutes for his subjects' peace, That thus neglecting them, their woes increase. Well, we will further on : soft, hero comes one ! I'll stay and see, how he escapes the watch. Enter BL.iCK Will. Black W. So now I am got within the City, I am as safe as in a sanctuary: it is a hard world, when Black Will for a venture of five pound must commit such petty robberies at Mile End, but the plain truth is, the Stewes from whence I had my quarterage , is now grown too hot for me : there's some suspicion of a murder lately done upon two merchants of the Stillyard , Avhich indeed , as far as some five or six stabs comes to, I confess I had a hand in. But mumbudget, all the dogs in the town must not bark at it. I must withdraw a-while till the heat be o'er, remove ray lodging, and live upon dark nights and misty mornings. Now, let me then see the strongest Avatch in London intercept my passage. KiiKj. \^Aside.'] Such a fellow would I fain meet withal. — Well overtaken, sir. Black W. 'Sblood ! come before me, sir : what the devil art thou ? Kiriy. A man at least. Black \V. And art thou valiant? King. I carry a sword and buckler, ye see. Black W. X sword and buckler? and know not me, not Black Will? King. No, trust me. Jllack W. Slave, then thou art neither traveller, nor purse - taker, for I tell thee. Black Will is known and feared through the seventeen Provinces : there's not a sword and buckler-man in England, nor Europe, but has had a taste of my manhood. I am toll-free in all cities and the suburbs about them: this is my sconce, my castle, my citadel, and but King Harry, God bless his majesty, I fear not the proudest. King. yes, some of his guard. Black W. Let his guard eat his beef and be thankful: give me a man will cover himself with his buckler and not budge, an the devil come. King. Methinks, thou wert better live at 'court, as I do ; King Harry loves a man, I can tell you. Black W. Would thou and all the men he keeps were 4* 30 WHEN YOU SEE ME, hanged, an ye love not him then; but I will not change my revenues for all his guards' wages. Kinij. Hast thou such store of living r Black W. Art thou a good fellow? May I speak freely and wilt not tell the king on't? King. Keep thine own counsel and fear riot, for of my faith, the king shall know no more for me than thou tellst him. Black W. An I tell him any thing, let him hang me : ■ but for thyself, I think, if a fat purse come i' th' way , thou wouldst not refuse it. Therefore leave the court and shark with me ; I tell thee I am chief commander of all the Stewes, there's not a whore shifts a smock but by my privilege, nor opens her shop, before I have my weekly tribute : and to as- sure thee my valour carries credit with it, do but walk with me through the streets of London and let me see the proudest watch disturb us. King. I shall be glad of your conduct, sir. Black W. Follow me then, and I'll tell thee more. First Watch. Stand, who goes there ? Black W. A good fellow. Come close, regard them not! Sec. Watcli. How shall we know thee to be a good fel- low ? Black W. My name's Black Will. First Watcli. 0, God give ye good night, good master Black William. Sec. Watch. Good bye, sir, good bj'C. I am glad, we are so well rid on him. Black W. La, sir, you see and here's egress enough ; now follow me, and you shall see we'll have regress back again. First Watcli. Who comes there ? Prich. Come "afore the constable ! Black IF. What, have ye forgot me so soon? 'Tis I. Sec. Watch. 0, 'tis master Black William: God bless ye, sir, God bless ye. Black W. How likest thou now ? Kinr/. Faith, excellent : but pr'ythee tell me, dost thou face the world with thy manhood, that thus they fear thee, or art thou truly valiant? Black W. 'Sfoot, dost thou doubt of my manhood? Nay then defend yourself, I'll give you a trial presently : betake ye to your tools , - sir , I'll teach yu to stand upon interro- gatories. King. I am tor ye, there's ne'er a man the king keeps, YOU KNOW ME. 31 shall refuse ye; but tell me, wilt thou keep the king's act for fighting? Blacl- W, As ye please, sir ; yet because thou'rt his man, I'll observe it and neither thrust nor strike beneath the knee. King. I am pleased, sir; have at )ou, sir. [They fight. Frn