Good morrow , and well met . How have ye done Since last we saw in France ? NORFOLK . I thank your Grace , Healthful ; and ever since a fresh admirer Of what I saw there . An untimely ague Stay 'd me a prisoner in my chamber when Those suns of glory , those two lights of men , Met in the vale of Andren . All the whole time I was my chamber 's prisoner . O , you go far ! Who did guide , I mean , who set the body and the limbs Of this great sport together , as you guess ? I pray you , who , my lord ? The devil speed him ! no man 's pie is freed From his ambitious finger . What had he To do in these fierce vanities ? I wonder That such a keech can with his very bulk Take up the rays o ’ th ’ beneficial sun , And keep it from the earth . Why the devil , Upon this French going out , took he upon him , 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 he papers . 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 ? Every man , After the hideous storm that follow 'd , was A thing inspir 'd ; and , not consulting , broke Into a general prophecy , that this tempest , Dashing the garment of this peace , aboded The sudden breach o n't . Why , all this business Our reverend Cardinal carried . 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 . I read in ‘ s looks Matter against me , and his eye revil 'd Me as his abject object . At this instant He bores me with some trick . He 's gone to the King ; I 'll follow , and outstare him . 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 . 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 . To the 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 , the interview , That swallowed so much treasure , and like a glass Did break i ’ the rinsing . Pray , give me favour , sir . This cunning Cardinal The articles o ’ the combination drew As himself pleas 'd ; 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 Peep 'd harms that menac 'd him . He privily Deals with our Cardinal ; and , as I trow ,— Which I do well , for I am sure the Emperor Paid ere he promis 'd ; whereby his suit was granted Ere it was ask 'd — but when the way was made , And pav 'd with gold , the Emperor thus desir 'd , 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 . No , not a syllable : I do pronounce him in that very shape He shall appear in proof . Lo , you , my lord , The net has fall'n upon me ! I shall perish Under device and practice . It will help nothing To plead mine innocence ; for that dye is on me Which makes my whit'st part black . The will of Heaven Be done in this and all things ! I obey . O my Lord Abergavenny , fare you well ! So , so ; These are the limbs o ’ the plot . No more , I hope ? O , Nicholas Hopkins ? My surveyor is false ; the o'erhYpppHeNgreat Cardinal Hath show 'd him gold ; my life is spann 'd already . I am the shadow of poor Buckingham , Whose figure even this instant cloud puts on , By dark'ning my clear sun . My lord , farewell . 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 receiv 'd a traitor 's judgement , And by that name must die ; yet , Heaven bear witness , And if I have a conscience , 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 lov 'd 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 . Sir Thomas Lovell , I as free forgive you As I would be forgiven . I forgive all . There cannot be those numberless offences ‘ Gainst me , that I cannot take peace with ; no black envy Shall mark my grave . Commend me to his Grace ; And , if he speak of Buckingham , pray , tell him You met him half in heaven . My vows and prayers Yet are the King 's ; and , till my soul forsake , Shall cry for blessings on him . May he live Longer than I have time to tell his years ! Ever belov 'd and loving may his rule be ! And when old Time shall lead him to his end , Goodness and he fill up one monument ! Nay , Sir Nicholas , 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 rais 'd head against usurping Richard , Flying for succour 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 , Restor 'd 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 lov 'd 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 !