I haue no further gone in this, then by
A single voice, and that not past me, but
By learned approbation of the Iudges: If I am
Traduc'd by ignorant Tongues, which neither know
My faculties nor person, yet will be
The Chronicles of my doing: Let me say,
'Tis but the fate of Place, and the rough Brake
That Vertue must goe through: we must not stint
Our necessary actions, in the feare
To cope malicious Censurers, which euer,
As rau'nous Fishes doe a Vessell follow
That is new trim'd; but benefit no further
Then vainly longing. What we oft doe best,
By sicke Interpreters (once weake ones) is
Not ours, or not allow'd; what worst, as oft
Hitting a grosser quality, is cride vp
For our best Act: if we shall stand still,
In feare our motion will be mock'd, or carp'd at,
We should take roote here, where we sit;
Or sit State-Statues onely
Kin. Things done well,
And with a care, exempt themselues from feare:
Things done without example, in their issue
Are to be fear'd. Haue you a President
Of this Commission? I beleeue, not any.
We must not rend our Subiects from our Lawes,
And sticke them in our Will. Sixt part of each?
A trembling Contribution; why we take
From euery Tree, lop, barke, and part o'th' Timber:
And though we leaue it with a roote thus hackt,
The Ayre will drinke the Sap. To euery County
Where this is question'd, send our Letters, with
Free pardon to each man that has deny'de
The force of this Commission: pray looke too't;
I put it to your care
Card. A word with you.
Let there be Letters writ to euery Shire,
Of the Kings grace and pardon: the greeued Commons
Hardly conceiue of me. Let it be nois'd,
That through our Intercession, this Reuokement
And pardon comes: I shall anon aduise you
Further in the proceeding.
Exit Secret[ary].
Enter Surueyor.
Queen. I am sorry, that the Duke of Buckingham
Is run in your displeasure
Kin. It grieues many:
The Gentleman is Learn'd, and a most rare Speaker,
To Nature none more bound; his trayning such,
That he may furnish and instruct great Teachers,
And neuer seeke for ayd out of himselfe: yet see,
When these so Noble benefits shall proue
Not well dispos'd, the minde growing once corrupt,
They turne to vicious formes, ten times more vgly
Then euer they were faire. This man so compleat,
Who was enrold 'mongst wonders; and when we
Almost with rauish'd listning, could not finde
His houre of speech, a minute: He, (my Lady)
Hath into monstrous habits put the Graces
That once were his, and is become as blacke,
As if besmear'd in hell. Sit by Vs, you shall heare
(This was his Gentleman in trust) of him
Things to strike Honour sad. Bid him recount
The fore-recited practises, whereof
We cannot feele too little, heare too much
Card. Stand forth, & with bold spirit relate what you
Most like a carefull Subiect haue collected
Out of the Duke of Buckingham
Kin. Speake freely
Sur. First, it was vsuall with him; euery day
It would infect his Speech: That if the King
Should without issue dye; hee'l carry it so
To make the Scepter his. These very words
I'ue heard him vtter to his Sonne in Law,
Lord Aburgany, to whom by oth he menac'd
Reuenge vpon the Cardinall
Card. Please your Highnesse note
This dangerous conception in this point,
Not frended by his wish to your High person;
His will is most malignant, and it stretches
Beyond you to your friends
Queen. My learn'd Lord Cardinall,
Deliuer all with Charity
Kin. Speake on;
How grounded hee his Title to the Crowne
Vpon our faile; to this poynt hast thou heard him,
At any time speake ought?
Sur. He was brought to this,
By a vaine Prophesie of Nicholas Henton
Kin. What was that Henton?
Sur. Sir, a Chartreux Fryer,
His Confessor, who fed him euery minute
With words of Soueraignty
Kin. How know'st thou this?
Sur. Not long before your Highnesse sped to France,
The Duke being at the Rose, within the Parish
Saint Laurence Poultney, did of me demand
What was the speech among the Londoners,
Concerning the French Iourney. I replide,
Men feare the French would proue perfidious
To the Kings danger: presently, the Duke
Said, 'twas the feare indeed, and that he doubted
'Twould proue the verity of certaine words
Spoke by a holy Monke, that oft, sayes he,
Hath sent to me, wishing me to permit
Iohn de la Car, my Chaplaine, a choyce howre
To heare from him a matter of some moment:
Whom after vnder the Commissions Seale,
He sollemnly had sworne, that what he spoke
My Chaplaine to no Creature liuing, but
To me, should vtter, with demure Confidence,
This pausingly ensu'de; neither the King, nor's Heyres
(Tell you the Duke) shall prosper, bid him striue
To the loue o'th' Commonalty, the Duke
Shall gouerne England
Queen. If I know you well,
You were the Dukes Surueyor, and lost your Office
On the complaint o'th' Tenants; take good heed
You charge not in your spleene a Noble person,
And spoyle your nobler Soule; I say, take heed;
Yes, heartily beseech you
Kin. Let him on: Goe forward
Sur. On my Soule, Ile speake but truth.
I told my Lord the Duke, by th' Diuels illusions
The Monke might be deceiu'd, and that 'twas dangerous
For this to ruminate on this so farre, vntill
It forg'd him some designe, which being beleeu'd
It was much like to doe: He answer'd, Tush,
It can do me no damage; adding further,
That had the King in his last Sicknesse faild,
The Cardinals and Sir Thomas Louels heads
Should haue gone off
Kin. Ha? What, so rancke? Ah, ha,
There's mischiefe in this man; canst thou say further?
Sur. I can my Liedge
Kin. Proceed
Sur. Being at Greenwich,
After your Highnesse had reprou'd the Duke
About Sir William Blumer
Kin. I remember of such a time, being my sworn seruant,
The Duke retein'd him his. But on: what hence?
Sur. If (quoth he) I for this had beene committed,
As to the Tower, I thought; I would haue plaid
The Part my Father meant to act vpon
Th' Vsurper Richard, who being at Salsbury,
Made suit to come in's presence; which if granted,
(As he made semblance of his duty) would
Haue put his knife into him
Kin. A Gyant Traytor
Card. Now Madam, may his Highnes liue in freedome,
And this man out of Prison
Queen. God mend all
Kin. Ther's somthing more would out of thee; what say'st?
Sur. After the Duke his Father, with the knife
He stretch'd him, and with one hand on his dagger,
Another spread on's breast, mounting his eyes,
He did discharge a horrible Oath, whose tenor
Was, were he euill vs'd, he would outgoe
His Father, by as much as a performance
Do's an irresolute purpose
Kin. There's his period,
To sheath his knife in vs: he is attach'd,
Call him to present tryall: if he may
Finde mercy in the Law, 'tis his; if none,
Let him not seek't of vs: By day and night
Hee's Traytor to th' height.
Exeunt.
Scaena Tertia.
L.Ch. Is't possible the spels of France should iuggle
Men into such strange mysteries?
L.San. New customes,
Though they be neuer so ridiculous,
(Nay let 'em be vnmanly) yet are follow'd
L.Ch. As farre as I see, all the good our English
Haue got by the late Voyage, is but meerely
A fit or two o'th' face, (but they are shrewd ones)
For when they hold 'em, you would sweare directly
Their very noses had been Councellours
To Pepin or Clotharius, they keepe State so
L.San. They haue all new legs,
And lame ones; one would take it,
That neuer see 'em pace before, the Spauen
A Spring-halt rain'd among 'em
L.Ch. Death my Lord,
Their cloathes are after such a Pagan cut too't,
That sure th'haue worne out Christendome: how now?
What newes, Sir Thomas Louell?
Enter Sir Thomas Louell.
Louell. Faith my Lord,
I heare of none but the new Proclamation,
That's clapt vpon the Court Gate
L.Cham. What is't for?
Lou. The reformation of our trauel'd Gallants,
That fill the Court with quarrels, talke, and Taylors
L.Cham. I'm glad 'tis there;
Now I would pray our Monsieurs
To thinke an English Courtier may be wise,
And neuer see the Louure
Lou. They must either
(For so run the Conditions) leaue those remnants
Of Foole and Feather, that they got in France,
With all their honourable points of ignorance
Pertaining thereunto; as Fights and Fire-workes,
Abusing better men then they can be
Out of a forreigne wisedome, renouncing cleane
The faith they haue in Tennis and tall Stockings,
Short blistred Breeches, and those types of Trauell;
And vnderstand againe like honest men,
Or pack to their old Playfellowes; there, I take it,
They may Cum Priuilegio, wee away
The lag end of their lewdnesse, and be laugh'd at
L.San. Tis time to giue 'em Physicke, their diseases
Are growne so catching
L.Cham. What a losse our Ladies
Will haue of these trim vanities?
Louell. I marry,
There will be woe indeed Lords, the slye whorsons
Haue got a speeding tricke to lay downe Ladies.
A French Song, and a Fiddle, ha's no Fellow
L.San. The Diuell fiddle 'em,
I am glad they are going,
For sure there's no conuerting of 'em: now
An honest Country Lord as I am, beaten
A long time out of play, may bring his plaine song,
And haue an houre of hearing, and by'r Lady
Held currant Musicke too
L.Cham. Well said Lord Sands,
Your Colts tooth is not cast yet?
L.San. No my Lord,
Nor shall not while I haue a stumpe
L.Cham. Sir Thomas,
Whither were you a going?
Lou. To the Cardinals;
Your Lordship is a guest too
L.Cham. O, 'tis true;
This night he makes a Supper, and a great one,
To many Lords and Ladies; there will be
The Beauty of this Kingdome Ile assure you
Lou. That Churchman
Beares a bounteous minde indeed,
A hand as fruitfull as the Land that feeds vs,
His dewes fall euery where
L.Cham. No doubt hee's Noble;
He had a blacke mouth that said other of him
L.San. He may my Lord,
Ha's wherewithall in him;
Sparing would shew a worse sinne, then ill Doctrine,
Men of his way, should be most liberall,
They are set heere for examples
L.Cham. True, they are so;
But few now giue so great ones:
My Barge stayes;
Your Lordship shall along: Come, good Sir Thomas,
We shall be late else, which I would not be,
For I was spoke to, with Sir Henry Guilford
This night to be Comptrollers
L.San. I am your Lordships.
Exeunt.
Scena Quarta.
Hoboies. A small Table vnder a State for the Cardinall, a longer
Table for
the Guests. Then Enter Anne Bullen, and diuers other Ladies, &
Gentlemen,
as Guests at one Doore; at an other Doore enter Sir Henry
Guilford.
S.Hen.Guilf. Ladyes,
A generall welcome from his Grace
Salutes ye all; This Night he dedicates
To faire content, and you: None heere he hopes
In all this Noble Beuy, has brought with her
One care abroad: hee would haue all as merry:
As first, good Company, good wine, good welcome,
Can make good people.
Enter L[ord]. Chamberlaine L[ord]. Sands, and Louell.
O my Lord, y'are tardy;
The very thought of this faire Company,
Clapt wings to me
Cham. You are young Sir Harry Guilford
San. Sir Thomas Louell, had the Cardinall
But halfe my Lay-thoughts in him, some of these
Should finde a running Banket, ere they rested,
I thinke would better please 'em: by my life,
They are a sweet society of faire ones
Lou. O that your Lordship were but now Confessor,
To one or two of these
San. I would I were,
They should finde easie pennance
Lou. Faith how easie?
San. As easie as a downe bed would affoord it
Cham. Sweet Ladies will it please you sit; Sir Harry
Place you that side, Ile take the charge of this:
His Grace is entring. Nay, you must not freeze,
Two women plac'd together, makes cold weather:
My Lord Sands, you are one will keepe 'em waking:
Pray sit betweene these Ladies
San. By my faith,
And thanke your Lordship: by your leaue sweet Ladies,
If I chance to talke a little wilde, forgiue me:
I had it from my Father
An.Bul. Was he mad Sir?
San. O very mad, exceeding mad, in loue too;
But he would bite none, iust as I doe now,
He would Kisse you Twenty with a breath
Cham. Well said my Lord:
So now y'are fairely seated: Gentlemen,
The pennance lyes on you; if these faire Ladies
Passe away frowning
San. For my little Cure,
Let me alone.
Hoboyes. Enter Cardinall Wolsey, and takes his State.
Card. Y'are welcome my faire Guests; that noble Lady
Or Gentleman that is not freely merry
Is not my Friend. This to confirme my welcome,
And to you all good health
San. Your Grace is Noble,
Let me haue such a Bowle may hold my thankes,
And saue me so much talking
Card. My Lord Sands,
I am beholding to you: cheere your neighbours:
Ladies you are not merry; Gentlemen,
Whose fault is this?
San. The red wine first must rise
In their faire cheekes my Lord, then wee shall haue 'em,
Talke vs to silence
An.B. You are a merry Gamster
My Lord Sands
San. Yes, if I make my play:
Heer's to your Ladiship, and pledge it Madam:
For tis to such a thing
An.B. You cannot shew me.
Drum and Trumpet, Chambers dischargd.
San. I told your Grace, they would talke anon
Card. What's that?
Cham. Looke out there, some of ye
Card. What warlike voyce,
And to what end is this? Nay, Ladies, feare not;
By all the lawes of Warre y'are priuiledg'd.
Enter a Seruant.
Cham. How now, what is't?
Seru. A noble troupe of Strangers,
For so they seeme; th' haue left their Barge and landed,
And hither make, as great Embassadors
From forraigne Princes
Card. Good Lord Chamberlaine,
Go, giue 'em welcome; you can speake the French tongue
And pray receiue 'em Nobly, and conduct 'em
Into our presence, where this heauen of beauty
Shall shine at full vpon them. Some attend him.
All rise, and Tables remou'd.
You haue now a broken Banket, but wee'l mend it.
A good digestion to you all; and once more
I showre a welcome on yee: welcome all.
Hoboyes. Enter King and others as Maskers, habited like
Shepheards,
vsher'd by the Lord Chamberlaine. They passe directly before the
Cardinall
and gracefully salute him.
A noble Company: what are their pleasures?
Cham. Because they speak no English, thus they praid
To tell your Grace: That hauing heard by fame
Of this so Noble and so faire assembly,
This night to meet heere they could doe no lesse,
(Out of the great respect they beare to beauty)
But leaue their Flockes, and vnder your faire Conduct
Craue leaue to view these Ladies, and entreat
An houre of Reuels with 'em
Card. Say, Lord Chamberlaine,
They haue done my poore house grace:
For which I pay 'em a thousand thankes,
And pray 'em take their pleasures.
Choose Ladies, King and An Bullen.
King. The fairest hand I euer touch'd: O Beauty,
Till now I neuer knew thee.
Musicke, Dance.
Card. My Lord
Cham. Your Grace
Card. Pray tell 'em thus much from me:
There should be one amongst 'em by his person
More worthy this place then my selfe, to whom
(If I but knew him) with my loue and duty
I would surrender it.
Whisper.
Cham. I will my Lord
Card. What say they?
Cham. Such a one, they all confesse
There is indeed, which they would haue your Grace
Find out, and he will take it
Card. Let me see then,
By all your good leaues Gentlemen; heere Ile make
My royall choyce
Kin. Ye haue found him Cardinall,
You hold a faire Assembly; you doe well Lord:
You are a Churchman, or Ile tell you Cardinall,
I should iudge now vnhappily
Card. I am glad
Your Grace is growne so pleasant
Kin. My Lord Chamberlaine,
Prethee come hither, what faire Ladie's that?
Cham. An't please your Grace,
Sir Thomas Bullens Daughter, the Viscount Rochford,
One of her Highnesse women
Kin. By Heauen she is a dainty one. Sweet heart,
I were vnmannerly to take you out,
And not to kisse you. A health Gentlemen,
Let it goe round
Card. Sir Thomas Louell, is the Banket ready
I'th' Priuy Chamber?
Lou. Yes, my Lord
Card. Your Grace
I feare, with dancing is a little heated
Kin. I feare too much
Card. There's fresher ayre my Lord,
In the next Chamber
Kin. Lead in your Ladies eu'ry one: Sweet Partner,
I must not yet forsake you: Let's be merry,
Good my Lord Cardinall: I haue halfe a dozen healths,
To drinke to these faire Ladies, and a measure
To lead 'em once againe, and then let's dreame
Who's best in fauour. Let the Musicke knock it.
Exeunt. with Trumpets.
Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.
Enter two Gentlemen at seuerall Doores.
1. Whether away so fast?
2. O, God saue ye:
Eu'n to the Hall, to heare what shall become
Of the great Duke of Buckingham
1. Ile saue you
That labour Sir. All's now done but the Ceremony
Of bringing backe the Prisoner
2. Were you there ?
1. Yes indeed was I
2. Pray speake what ha's happen'd
1. You may guesse quickly what
2. Is he found guilty?
1. Yes truely is he,
And condemn'd vpon't
2. I am sorry fort
1. So are a number more
2. But pray how past it?
1. Ile tell you in a little. The great Duke
Came to the Bar; where, to his accusations
He pleaded still not guilty, and alleadged
Many sharpe reasons to defeat the Law.
The Kings Atturney on the contrary,
Vrg'd on the Examinations, proofes, confessions
Of diuers witnesses, which the Duke desir'd
To him brought viua voce to his face;
At which appear'd against him, his Surueyor
Sir Gilbert Pecke his Chancellour, and Iohn Car,
Confessor to him, with that Diuell Monke,
Hopkins, that made this mischiefe
2. That was hee
That fed him with his Prophecies
1. The same,
All these accus'd him strongly, which he faine
Would haue flung from him; but indeed he could not;
And so his Peeres vpon this euidence,
Haue found him guilty of high Treason. Much
He spoke, and learnedly for life: But all
Was either pittied in him, or forgotten
2. After all this, how did he beare himselfe?
1. When he was brought agen to th' Bar, to heare
His Knell rung out, his Iudgement, he was stir'd
With such an Agony, he sweat extreamly,
And somthing spoke in choller, ill, and hasty:
But he fell to himselfe againe, and sweetly,
In all the rest shew'd a most Noble patience
2. I doe not thinke he feares death
1. Sure he does not,
He neuer was so womanish, the cause
He may a little grieue at
2. Certainly,
The Cardinall is the end of this
1. Tis likely,
By all coniectures: First Kildares Attendure;
Then Deputy of Ireland, who remou'd
Earle Surrey, was sent thither, and in hast too,
Least he should helpe his Father
2. That tricke of State
Was a deepe enuious one,
1. At his returne,
No doubt he will requite it; this is noted
(And generally) who euer the King fauours,
The Cardnall instantly will finde imployment,
And farre enough from Court too
2. All the Commons
Hate him perniciously, and o' my Conscience
Wish him ten faddom deepe: This Duke as much
They loue and doate on: call him bounteous Buckingham,
The Mirror of all courtesie.
Enter Buckingham from his Arraignment, Tipstaues before him,
the Axe with
the edge towards him, Halberds on each side, accompanied with
Sir Thomas
Louell, Sir Nicholas Vaux, Sir Walter Sands, and common people,
&c.
1. Stay there Sir,
And see the noble ruin'd man you speake of
2. Let's stand close and behold him
Buck. All good people,
You that thus farre haue come to pitty me;
Heare what I say, and then goe home and lose me.
I haue this day receiu'd a Traitors iudgement,
And by that name must dye; yet Heauen beare witnes,
And if I haue a Conscience, let it sincke me,
Euen as the Axe falls, if I be not faithfull.
The Law I beare no mallice for my death,
T'has done vpon the premises, but Iustice:
But those that sought it, I could wish more Christians:
(Be what they will) I heartily forgiue 'em;
Yet let 'em looke they glory not in mischiefe;
Nor build their euils on the graues of great men;
For then, my guiltlesse blood must cry against 'em.
For further life in this world I ne're hope,
Nor will I sue, although the King haue mercies
More then I dare make faults.
You few that lou'd me,
And dare be bold to weepe for Buckingham,
His Noble Friends and Fellowes; whom to leaue
Is only bitter to him, only dying:
Goe with me like good Angels to my end,
And as the long diuorce of Steele fals on me,
Make of your Prayers one sweet Sacrifice,
And lift my Soule to Heauen.
Lead on a Gods name
Louell. I doe beseech your Grace, for charity
If euer any malice in your heart
Were hid against me, now to forgiue me frankly
Buck. Sir Thomas Louell, I as free forgiue you
As I would be forgiuen: I forgiue all.
There cannot be those numberlesse offences
Gainst me, that I cannot take peace with:
No blacke Enuy shall make my Graue.
Commend mee to his Grace:
And if he speake of Buckingham; pray tell him,
You met him halfe in Heauen: my vowes and prayers
Yet are the Kings; and till my Soule forsake,
Shall cry for blessings on him. May he liue
Longer then I haue time to tell his yeares;
Euer belou'd and louing, may his Rule be;
And when old Time shall lead him to his end,
Goodnesse and he, fill vp one Monument
Lou. To th' water side I must conduct your Grace;
Then giue my Charge vp to Sir Nicholas Vaux,
Who vndertakes you to your end
Vaux. Prepare there,
The Duke is comming: See the Barge be ready;
And fit it with such furniture as suites
The Greatnesse of his Person
Buck. Nay, Sir Nicholas,
Let it alone; my State now will but mocke me.
When I came hither, I was Lord High Constable,
And Duke of Buckingham: now, poore Edward Bohun;
Yet I am richer then my base Accusers,
That neuer knew what Truth meant: I now seale it;
And with that bloud will make 'em one day groane for't.
My noble Father Henry of Buckingham,
Who first rais'd head against Vsurping Richard,
Flying for succour to his Seruant Banister,
Being distrest; was by that wretch betraid,
And without Tryall, fell; Gods peace be with him.
Henry the Seauenth succeeding, truly pittying
My Fathers losse; like a most Royall Prince
Restor'd me to my Honours: and out of ruines
Made my Name once more Noble. Now his Sonne,
Henry the Eight, Life, Honour, Name and all
That made me happy; at one stroake ha's taken
For euer from the World. I had my Tryall,
And must needs say a Noble one; which makes me
A little happier then my wretched Father:
Yet thus farre we are one in Fortunes; both
Fell by our Seruants, by those Men we lou'd most:
A most vnnaturall and faithlesse Seruice.
Heauen ha's an end in all: yet, you that heare me,
This from a dying man receiue as certaine:
Where you are liberall of your loues and Councels,
Be sure you be not loose; for those you make friends,
And giue your hearts to; when they once perceiue
The least rub in your fortunes, fall away
Like water from ye, neuer found againe
But where they meane to sinke ye: all good people
Pray for me, I must now forsake ye; the last houre
Of my long weary life is come vpon me:
Farewell; and when you would say somthing that is sad,
Speake how I fell.
I haue done; and God forgiue me.
Exeunt. Duke and Traine.
1. O, this is full of pitty; Sir, it cals
I feare, too many curses on their heads
That were the Authors
2. If the Duke be guiltlesse,
'Tis full of woe: yet I can giue you inckling
Of an ensuing euill, if it fall,
Greater then this
1. Good Angels keepe it from vs:
What may it be? you doe not doubt my faith Sir?
2. This Secret is so weighty, 'twill require
A strong faith to conceale it
1. Let me haue it:
I doe not talke much
2. I am confident;
You shall Sir: Did you not of late dayes heare
A buzzing of a Separation
Betweene the King and Katherine?
1. Yes, but it held not;
For when the King once heard it, out of anger
He sent command to the Lord Mayor straight
To stop the rumor; and allay those tongues
That durst disperse it
2. But that slander Sir,
Is found a truth now: for it growes agen
Fresher then e're it was; and held for certaine
The King will venture at it. Either the Cardinall,
Or some about him neere, haue out of malice
To the good Queene, possest him with a scruple
That will vndoe her: To confirme this too,
Cardinall Campeius is arriu'd, and lately,
As all thinke for this busines
1. Tis the Cardinall;
And meerely to reuenge him on the Emperour,
For not bestowing on him at his asking,
The Archbishopricke of Toledo, this is purpos'd
2. I thinke
You haue hit the marke; but is't not cruell,
That she should feele the smart of this: the Cardinall
Will haue his will, and she must fall
1. 'Tis wofull.
Wee are too open heere to argue this:
Let's thinke in priuate more.
Exeunt.
Scena Secunda.
Enter Lord Chamberlaine, reading this Letter.
My Lord, the Horses your Lordship sent for, with all the
care I had, I saw well chosen, ridden, and furnish'd.
They were young and handsome, and of the best breed in the
North. When they were ready to set out for London, a man
of my Lord Cardinalls, by Commission, and maine power tooke
'em from me, with this reason: his maister would bee seru'd before
a Subiect, if not before the King, which stop'd our mouthes
Sir.
I feare he will indeede; well, let him haue them; hee
will haue all I thinke.
Enter to the Lord Chamberlaine, the Dukes of Norfolke and
Suffolke.
Norf. Well met my Lord Chamberlaine
Cham. Good day to both your Graces
Suff. How is the King imployd?
Cham. I left him priuate,
Full of sad thoughts and troubles
Norf. What's the cause?
Cham. It seemes the Marriage with his Brothers Wife
Ha's crept too neere his Conscience