The Life of Henry the Eighth

Our merchants' goods at Bordeaux.

ABERGAVENNY

Is it therefore
The ambassador is silenc'd?

NORFOLK

Marry, is't.

ABERGAVENNY

A proper title of a peace, and purchas'd
At a superfluous rate!

BUCKINGHAM

Why, all this business
Our reverend Cardinal carried.

NORFOLK

Like it your Grace,
The state takes notice of the private difference
Betwixt you and the Cardinal. I advise you —
And take it from a heart that wishes towards you
Honour and plenteous safety – that you read
The Cardinal's malice and his potency
Together, to consider further that
What his high hatred would effect wants not
A minister in his power. You know his nature,
That he's revengeful, and I know his sword
Hath a sharp edge; it's long, and, 't may be said,
It reaches far, and where 'twill not extend,
Thither he darts it. Bosom up my counsel,
You'll find it wholesome. Lo, where comes that rock
That I advise your shunning.

[Enter Cardinal Wolsey, the purse borne before him, certain of the Guard, and two Secretaries, with papers. The Cardinal in his passage fixeth his eye on Buckingham, and Buckingham on him, both full of disdain.]

WOLSEY

The Duke of Buckingham's surveyor, ha?
Where's his examination?

SECRETARY

Here, so please you.

WOLSEY

Is he in person ready?

SECRETARY

Ay, please your Grace.

WOLSEY

Well, we shall then know more; and Buckingham
Shall lessen this big look.

[Exeunt Wolsey and his train.]

BUCKINGHAM

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.

NORFOLK

What, are you chaf'd?
Ask God for temp'rance; that's the appliance only
Which your disease requires.

BUCKINGHAM

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.

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 allow'd 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,