Henry VIII Act Two – “Our content is our best possession.”

Henry VIII Act Two – “Our content is our best possession.”

Act Two of ‘Henry VIII’ starts in the streets of London where two gentlemen talk about the trial of Buckingham. The First Gentleman recounts the trial which he saw where Buckingham was found guilty:

“I'll tell you in a little. The great duke

Came to the bar; where to his accusations

He pleaded still not guilty and alleged

Many sharp reasons to defeat the law.

The king's attorney on the contrary

Urged on the examinations, proofs, confessions

Of divers witnesses; which the duke desired

To have brought viva voce to his face:

At which appear'd against him his surveyor;

Sir Gilbert Peck his chancellor; and John Car,

Confessor to him; with that devil-monk,

Hopkins, that made this mischief…

All these accused him strongly; which he fain

Would have flung from him, but, indeed, he could not:

And so his peers, upon this evidence,

Have found him guilty of high treason. Much

He spoke, and learnedly, for life; but all

Was either pitied in him or forgotten…

When he was brought again to the bar, to hear

His knell rung out, his judgment, he was stirr'd

With such an agony, he sweat extremely,

And something spoke in choler, ill, and hasty:

But he fell to himself again, and sweetly

In all the rest show'd a most noble patience.”

The gentlemen both see that Cardinal Wolsey is responsible for Buckingham’s fall from grace and they see Wolsey favouring some people over others. When Buckingham is brought in, the gentlemen try to listen to what Buckingham has to say. Buckingham gives a speech where he says that he has been condemned by a traitor but he asks for his memory not to be forgotten.

“All good people,

You that thus far have come to pity me,

Hear what I say, and then go home and lose me.

I have this day received a traitor's judgment,

And by that name must die: yet, heaven bear witness,

And if I have a co nscience, let it sink me,

Even as the axe falls, if I be not faithful!

The law I bear no malice for my death;

'T has done, upon the premises, but justice:

But those that sought it I could wish more Christians:

Be what they will, I heartily forgive 'em:

Yet let 'em look they glory not in mischief,

Nor build their evils on the graves of great men;

For then my guiltless blood must cry against 'em.

For further life in this world I ne'er hope,

Nor will I sue, although the king have mercies

More than I dare make faults. You few that loved me,

And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham,

His noble friends and fellows, whom to leave

Is only bitter to him, only dying,

Go with me, like good angels, to my end;

And, as the long divorce of steel falls on me,

Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice,

And lift my soul to heaven. Lead on, o' God's name.”

Lovell asks Buckingham’s forgiveness and Buckingham says he forgives Lovell as freely as he asks others would forgive him and he asks that they speak well of him to the king. Lovell says he must accompany Buckingham to the river and then hand him over to Vaux who offers to see the barge furnished “…as suits the greatness of his person.” Buckingham rejects this offer stating:

“Let it alone; my state now will but mock me.

When I came hither, I was lord high constable

And Duke of Buckingham; now, poor Edward Bohun:

Yet I am richer than my base accusers,

That never knew what truth meant: I now seal it;

And with that blood will make 'em one day groan for't.

My noble father, Henry of Buckingham,

Who first raised head against usurping Richard,

Flying for succor to his servant Banister,

Being distress'd, was by that wretch betray'd,

And without trial fell; God's peace be with him!

Henry the Seventh succeeding, truly pitying

My father's loss, like a most royal prince,

Restored me to my honours, and, out of ruins,

Made my name once more noble. Now his son,

Henry the Eighth, life, honour, name and all

That made me happy at one stroke has taken

For ever from the world. I had my trial,

And, must needs say, a noble one; which makes me,

A little happier than my wretched father:

Yet thus far we are one in fortunes: both

Fell by our servants, by those men we loved most;

A most unnatural and faithless service!

Heaven has an end in all: yet, you that hear me,

This from a dying man receive as certain:

Where you are liberal of your loves and counsels

Be sure you be not loose; for those you make friends

And give your hearts to, when they once perceive

The least rub in your fortunes, fall away

Like water from ye, never found again

But where they mean to sink ye. All good people,

Pray for me! I must now forsake ye: the last hour

Of my long weary life is come upon me. Farewell:

And when you would say something that is sad,

Speak how I fell. I have done; and God forgive me!”

Buckingham is taken away to his death. The gentlemen then talk about how they have heard a rumour that King Henry VIII wants to separate from Queen Katharine and that Wolsey is pushing this path because he wants the king to marry another and take revenge on Katharine's father, the King of Spain.

Then in an ante-chamber in the palace, the Lord Chamberlain enters reading a letter telling of how Cardinal Wolsey seems to be taking horses and property which he claims will be given to King Henry VIII. When Norfolk and Suffolk enter and ask about the king, the Lord Chamberlain says that the king is being encouraged by Wolsey to think of divorcing Katharine. They hope that the king will see Wolsey for the manipulator he seems to be. The Lord Chamberlain exits.

Suffolk and Norfolk attempt to reason with King Henry VIII. He gets angry with them saying: “How dare you thrust yourselves into my private meditations?” When Cardinal Wolsey and Cardinal Campeius (a envoy from the Pope) enter, the king ignores and then dismisses Suffolk and Norfolk. Wolsey then tells the king that since the king has asked the Pope to arbitrate on the grounds he has to divorce Queen Katharine.

Campeius explains the situation and Gardiner is called for a reading of the decision. The king and Gardiner exit. Cardinal Wolsey and Cardinal Campeius discuss the downfall of the previous secretary. Then the king re-enters and says that the announcement of his divorce from Catharine will happen at Blackfriars:

“The most convenient place that I can think of

For such receipt of learning is Black-Friars;

There ye shall meet about this weighty business.

My Wolsey, see it furnish'd. O, my lord,

Would it not grieve an able man to leave

So sweet a bedfellow? But, conscience, conscience!

O, 'tis a tender place; and I must leave her.”

In the next scene, Anne Bullen and an older attendant, talk about the downfall of Queen Katharine. Anne thinks that Katharine would be happier if she had been born poor. Anne says that she would never want to be queen but the older attendant says that because Anne has the heart of a woman that she desires eminence, wealth and sovereignty. Anne reaffirms that nothing would make her desire to be queen.

The Lord Chamberlain enters to tell Anne that the king thinks a lot of her and wants to increase her income. She asks the Lord Chamberlain to thank the king. As the Lord Chamberlain leaves he speaks an aside that shows he thinks that Anne is attractive:

“I have perused her well;

Beauty and honour in her are so mingled

That they have caught the king: and who knows yet

But from this lady may proceed a gem

To lighten all this isle? I'll to the king,

And say I spoke with you.”

The Old Lady and discuss what will happen next to Catharine and to Anne herself.

In the next scene at Blackfriars, the Pope’s decision on Henry’s marriage to Katharine is about to be read aloud but King henry VIII says he has read it and it does not need to be read out aloud. Queen Katharine kneels at Henry's feet saying:

“Sir, I desire you do me right and justice;

And to bestow your pity on me: for

I am a most poor woman, and a stranger,

Born out of your dominions; having here

No judge indifferent, nor no more assurance

Of equal friendship and proceeding. Alas, sir,

In what have I offended you? what cause

Hath my behavior given to your displeasure,

That thus you should proceed to put me off,

And take your good grace from me? Heaven witness,

I have been to you a true and humble wife,

At all times to your will conformable;

Ever in fear to kindle your dislike,

Yea, subject to your countenance, glad or sorry

As I saw it inclined: when was the hour

I ever contradicted your desire,

Or made it not mine too? Or which of your friends

Have I not strove to love, although I knew

He were mine enemy? what friend of mine

That had to him derived your anger, did I

Continue in my liking? nay, gave notice

He was from thence discharged. Sir, call to mind

That I have been your wife, in this obedience,

Upward of twenty years, and have been blest

With many children by you: if, in the course

And process of this time, you can report,

And prove it too, against mine honour aught,

My bond to wedlock, or my love and duty,

Against your sacred person, in God's name,

Turn me away; and let the foul'st contempt

Shut door upon me, and so give me up

To the sharp'st kind of justice. Please you sir,

The king, your father, was reputed for

A prince most prudent, of an excellent

And unmatch'd wit and judgment: Ferdinand,

My father, king of Spain, was reckon'd one

The wisest prince that there had reign'd by many

A year before: it is not to be question'd

That they had gather'd a wise council to them

Of every realm, that did debate this business,

Who deem'd our marriage lawful: wherefore I humbly

Beseech you, sir, to spare me, till I may

Be by my friends in Spain advised; whose counsel

I will implore: if not, i' the name of God,

Your pleasure be fulfill'd!”

Wolsey says that the king has decided on his course of action already. Katharine says that she believes Wolsey is to blame for all this. Wolsey says that he has never done anything against her marriage and her person. Katharine says that she is unable to defend herself against Wolsey's cunning. She says that she will never allow Wolsey to judge her and she tries to exit but King Henry brings her back. Henry eventually lets her go. Wolsey then asks the king whether Wolsey has acted unfairly. King Henry VIII then expresses his doubts about his marriage to Katharine: to declare whether he has influenced him unduly with regards to Katharine, and the king consents to clear Wolsey's name, excusing him from Katharine's accusations.

The king then relates how he came to doubt his marriage to Katharine:

“My lord cardinal,

I do excuse you; yea, upon mine honour,

I free you from't. You are not to be taught

That you have many enemies, that know not

Why they are so, but, like to village-curs,

Bark when their fellows do: by some of these

The queen is put in anger. You're excused:

But will you be more justified? You ever

Have wish'd the sleeping of this business; never desired

It to be stirr'd; but oft have hinder'd, oft,

The passages made toward it: on my honour,

I speak my good lord cardinal to this point,

And thus far clear him. Now, what moved me to't,

I will be bold with time and your attention:

Then mark the inducement. Thus it came; give heed to't:

My conscience first received a tenderness,

Scruple, and prick, on certain speeches utter'd

By the Bishop of Bayonne, then French ambassador;

Who had been hither sent on the debating

A marriage 'twixt the Duke of Orleans and

Our daughter Mary: i' the progress of this business,

Ere a determinate resolution, he,

I mean the bishop, did require a respite;

Wherein he might the king his lord advertise

Whether our daughter were legitimate,

Respecting this our marriage with the dowager,

Sometimes our brother's wife. This respite shook

The bosom of my conscience, enter'd me,

Yea, with a splitting power, and made to tremble

The region of my breast; which forced such way,

That many mazed considerings did throng

And press'd in with this caution. First, methought

I stood not in the smile of heaven; who had

Commanded nature, that my lady's womb,

If it conceived a male child by me, should

Do no more offices of life to't than

The grave does to the dead; for her male issue

Or died where they were made, or shortly after

This world had air'd them: hence I took a thought,

This was a judgment on me; that my kingdom,

Well worthy the best heir o' the world, should not

Be gladded in't by me: then follows, that

I weigh'd the danger which my realms stood in

By this my issue's fail; and that gave to me

Many a groaning throe. Thus hulling in

The wild sea of my conscience, I did steer

Toward this remedy, whereupon we are

Now present here together: that's to say,

I meant to rectify my conscience,--which

I then did feel full sick, and yet not well,--

By all the reverend fathers of the land

And doctors learn'd: first I began in private

With you, my Lord of Lincoln; you remember

How under my oppression I did reek,

When I first moved you.”

Campeius reveals that they will decide on the case another day. Henry says to himself that he does not trust the cardinals, and awaits Cranmer’s return to get sound advice:

“I may perceive

These cardinals trifle with me: I abhor

This dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome.

My learn'd and well-beloved servant, Cranmer,

Prithee, return: with thy approach, I know,

My comfort comes along. Break up the court:

I say, set on.”