Henry VIII

William Shakespeare

• Éditeur: Hesperides Press
• Année: 2015
• ISBN:
  9781473370517
• Sujet: Literature
• Sous-sujet: Shakespeare Drama

Classic Books Library presents this new beautiful edition of William Shakespeare's history play, "Henry VIII", featuring a specially commissioned new biography of William Shakespeare. Based on the English King, "Henry VIII" explores two intriguing tales. First, the treacherous exploits of Henry's influential advisor, Cardinal Wolsey, then Henry's desire to divorce his wife Katherine and his controversial marriage to Anne Bullen (Boleyn). Its performance at the Globe in 1613 resulted in the burning down of the theatre's original structure due to the real cannon fire that took place as stated in the stage directions. William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616) was an English playwright, poet, and actor. He is considered to be the greatest writer in the English language and is celebrated as the world's most famous dramatist.

ACT I.

SCENE I. London. The palace.

[Enter the DUKE OF NORFOLK at one door; at the other, the DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM and the LORD ABERGAVENNY.]

BUCKINGHAM.
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.

BUCKINGHAM.
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.

NORFOLK.
‘Twixt Guynes and Arde—
I was then present, saw them salute on horseback;
Beheld them, when they lighted, how they clung
In their embracement, as they grew together;
Which had they, what four thron’d ones could have weigh’d
Such a compounded one?

BUCKINGHAM.
All the whole time
I was my chamber’s prisoner.

NORFOLK.
Then you lost
The view of earthly glory; men might say,
Till this time pomp was single, but now married
To one above itself. Each following day
Became the next day’s master, till the last
Made former wonders its. To-day the French,
All clinquant, all in gold, like heathen gods,
Shone down the English; and to-morrow they
Made Britain India: every man that stood
Show’d like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were
As cherubins, all gilt; the madams too,
Not us’d to toil, did almost sweat to bear
The pride upon them, that their very labour
Was to them as a painting. Now this masque
Was cried incomparable; and th’ ensuing night
Made it a fool and beggar. The two kings,
Equal in lustre, were now best, now worst,
As presence did present them: him in eye
Still him in praise; and being present both,
‘Twas said they saw but one, and no discerner
Durst wag his tongue in censure. When these suns—
For so they phrase ‘em—by their heralds challeng’d
The noble spirits to arms, they did perform
Beyond thought’s compass, that former fabulous story,
Being now seen possible enough, got credit,
That Bevis was believ’d.

BUCKINGHAM.
O, you go far!

NORFOLK.
As I belong to worship, and affect
In honour honesty, the tract of ev’rything
Would by a good discourser lose some life
Which action’s self was tongue to. All was royal:
To the disposing of it nought rebell’d;
Order gave each thing view. The office did
Distinctly his full function.

BUCKINGHAM.
Who did guide—
I mean, who set the body and the limbs
Of this great sport together, as you guess?

NORFOLK.
One, certes, that promises no element
In such a business.

BUCKINGHAM.
I pray you, who, my lord?

NORFOLK.
All this was ord’red by the good discretion
Of the right reverend Cardinal of York....