BUCKINGHAM.
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 trick. He’s gone to th’ King.
I’ll follow, and outstare him.
NORFOLK.
Stay, my lord,
And let your reason with your choler question
What ’tis you go about. To climb steep hills
Requires slow pace at first. Anger is like
A full hot horse, who being allowed his way,
Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England
Can advise me like you; be to yourself
As you would to your friend.
BUCKINGHAM.
I’ll to the King,
And from a mouth of honour quite cry down
This Ipswich fellow’s insolence, or proclaim
There’s difference in no persons.
NORFOLK.
Be advised.
Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot
That it do singe yourself. We may outrun
By violent swiftness that which we run at,
And lose by over-running. Know you not,
The fire that mounts the liquor till ’t run o’er,
In seeming to augment it wastes it? Be advised.
I say again, there is no English soul
More stronger to direct you than yourself,
If with the sap of reason you would quench,
Or but allay the fire of passion.
BUCKINGHAM.
Sir,
I am thankful to you, and I’ll go along
By your prescription; but this top-proud fellow—
Whom from the flow of gall I name not, but
From sincere motions—by intelligence,
And proofs as clear as founts in July when
We see each grain of gravel, I do know
To be corrupt and treasonous.
NORFOLK.
Say not “treasonous.”
BUCKINGHAM.
To th’ King I’ll say’t, and make my vouch as strong
As shore of rock. Attend. This holy fox,
Or wolf, or both—for he is equal ravenous
As he is subtle, and as prone to mischief
As able to perform’t, his mind and place
Infecting one another, yea, reciprocally—
Only to show his pomp as well in France
As here at home, suggests the King our master
To this last costly treaty, th’ interview,
That swallowed so much treasure, and like a glass
Did break i’ th’ rinsing.
NORFOLK.
Faith, and so it did.
BUCKINGHAM.
Pray give me favour, sir. This cunning Cardinal
The articles o’ th’ combination drew
As himself pleased; and they were ratified
As he cried “Thus let be,” to as much end
As give a crutch to the dead. But our Count-Cardinal
Has done this, and ’tis well, for worthy Wolsey,
Who cannot err, he did it. Now this follows—
Which, as I take it, is a kind of puppy
To the old dam treason—Charles the Emperor,
Under pretence to see the Queen his aunt—
For ’twas indeed his colour, but he came
To whisper Wolsey—here makes visitation.
His fears were that the interview betwixt
England and France might through their amity
Breed him some prejudice, for from this league
Peeped harms that menaced him. He privily
Deals with our Cardinal, and, as I trow—
Which I do well, for I am sure the Emperor
Paid ere he promised, whereby his suit was granted
Ere it was asked. But when the way was made
And paved with gold, the Emperor thus desired
That he would please to alter the King’s course
And break the foresaid peace. Let the King know,
As soon he shall by me, that thus the Cardinal
Does buy and sell his honour as he pleases
And for his own advantage.
NORFOLK.
I am sorry
To hear this of him, and could wish he were
Something mistaken in’t.