Sur. Thou art a proud Traitor, Priest

Car. Proud Lord, thou lyest:

Within these fortie houres, Surrey durst better

Haue burnt that Tongue, then saide so

Sur. Thy Ambition

(Thou Scarlet sinne) robb'd this bewailing Land

Of Noble Buckingham, my Father-in-Law,

The heads of all thy Brother-Cardinals,

(With thee, and all thy best parts bound together)

Weigh'd not a haire of his. Plague of your policie,

You sent me Deputie for Ireland,

Farre from his succour; from the King, from all

That might haue mercie on the fault, thou gau'st him:

Whil'st your great Goodnesse, out of holy pitty,

Absolu'd him with an Axe

Wol. This, and all else

This talking Lord can lay vpon my credit,

I answer, is most false. The Duke by Law

Found his deserts. How innocent I was

From any priuate malice in his end,

His Noble Iurie, and foule Cause can witnesse.

If I lou'd many words, Lord, I should tell you,

You haue as little Honestie, as Honor,

That in the way of Loyaltie, and Truth,

Toward the King, my euer Roiall Master,

Dare mate a sounder man then Surrie can be,

And all that loue his follies

Sur. By my Soule,

Your long Coat (Priest) protects you,

Thou should'st feele

My Sword i'th' life blood of thee else. My Lords,

Can ye endure to heare this Arrogance?

And from this Fellow? If we liue thus tamely,

To be thus Iaded by a peece of Scarlet,

Farewell Nobilitie: let his Grace go forward,

And dare vs with his Cap, like Larkes

Card. All Goodnesse

Is poyson to thy Stomacke

Sur. Yes, that goodnesse

Of gleaning all the Lands wealth into one,

Into your owne hands (Card'nall) by Extortion:

The goodnesse of your intercepted Packets

You writ to'th Pope, against the King: your goodnesse

Since you prouoke me, shall be most notorious.

My Lord of Norfolke, as you are truly Noble,

As you respect the common good, the State

Of our despis'd Nobilitie, our Issues,

(Whom if he liue, will scarse be Gentlemen)

Produce the grand summe of his sinnes, the Articles

Collected from his life. Ile startle you

Worse then the Sacring Bell, when the browne Wench

Lay kissing in your Armes, Lord Cardinall

Car. How much me thinkes, I could despise this man,

But that I am bound in Charitie against it

Nor. Those Articles, my Lord, are in the Kings hand:

But thus much, they are foule ones

Wol. So much fairer

And spotlesse, shall mine Innocence arise,

When the King knowes my Truth

Sur. This cannot saue you:

I thanke my Memorie, I yet remember

Some of these Articles, and out they shall.

Now, if you can blush, and crie guiltie Cardinall,

You'l shew a little Honestie

Wol. Speake on Sir,

I dare your worst Obiections: If I blush,

It is to see a Nobleman want manners

Sur. I had rather want those, then my head;

Haue at you.

First, that without the Kings assent or knowledge,

You wrought to be a Legate, by which power

You maim'd the Iurisdiction of all Bishops

Nor. Then, That in all you writ to Rome, or else

To Forraigne Princes, Ego & Rex meus

Was still inscrib'd: in which you brought the King

To be your Seruant

Suf. Then, that without the knowledge

Either of King or Councell, when you went

Ambassador to the Emperor, you made bold

To carry into Flanders, the Great Seale

Sur. Item, You sent a large Commission

To Gregory de Cassado, to conclude

Without the Kings will, or the States allowance,

A League betweene his Highnesse, and Ferrara

Suf. That out of meere Ambition, you haue caus'd

Your holy-Hat to be stampt on the Kings Coine

Sur. Then, That you haue sent inumerable substance,

(By what meanes got, I leaue to your owne conscience)

To furnish Rome, and to prepare the wayes

You haue for Dignities, to the meere vndooing

Of all the Kingdome. Many more there are,

Which since they are of you, and odious,

I will not taint my mouth with

Cham. O my Lord,

Presse not a falling man too farre: 'tis Vertue:

His faults lye open to the Lawes, let them

(Not you) correct him. My heart weepes to see him

So little, of his great Selfe

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