WHITE. Courage, sir,
That makes or man or woman look their goodliest.
Die like the torn fox dumb, but never whine
Like that poor heart, Northumberland, at the block.
BAGENHALL. The man had children, and he whined
for those.
Methinks most men are but poor-hearted, else
Should we so doat on courage, were it commoner?
The Queen stands up, and speaks for her own self;
And all men cry, She is queenly, she is goodly.
Yet she’s no goodlier; tho’ my Lord Mayor
here,
By his own rule, he hath been so bold to-day,
Should look more goodly than the rest of us.
WHITE. Goodly? I feel most goodly heart
and hand,
And strong to throw ten Wyatts and all Kent.
Ha! ha! sir; but you jest; I love it: a jest
In time of danger shows the pulses even.
Be merry! yet, Sir Ralph, you look but sad.
I dare avouch you’d stand up for yourself,
Tho’ all the world should bay like winter wolves.
BAGENHALL. Who knows? the man is proven by the
hour.
WHITE. The man should make the hour, not this
the man;
And Thomas White will prove this Thomas Wyatt,
And he will prove an Iden to this Cade,
And he will play the Walworth to this Wat;
Come, sirs, we prate; hence all—gather
your men—
Myself must bustle. Wyatt comes to Southwark;
I’ll have the drawbridge hewn into the Thames,
And see the citizens arm’d. Good day; good
day.
[Exit
WHITE.
BAGENHALL. One of much outdoor bluster.
HOWARD. For all
that,
Most honest, brave, and skilful; and his wealth
A fountain of perennial alms—his fault
So thoroughly to believe in his own self.
BAGENHALL. Yet thoroughly to believe in one’s
own self,
So one’s own self be thorough, were to do
Great things, my Lord.
HOWARD. It may be.
BAGENHALL. I have heard
One of your Council fleer and jeer at him.
HOWARD. The nursery-cocker’d child will
jeer at aught
That may seem strange beyond his nursery.
The statesman that shall jeer and fleer at men,
Makes enemies for himself and for his king;
And if he jeer not seeing the true man
Behind his folly, he is thrice the fool;
And if he see the man and still will jeer,
He is child and fool, and traitor to the State.
Who is he? let me shun him.
BAGENHALL. Nay, my Lord,
He is damn’d enough already.
HOWARD. I must set
The guard at Ludgate. Fare you well, Sir Ralph.
BAGENHALL. ‘Who knows?’ I am for
England. But who knows,
That knows the Queen, the Spaniard, and the Pope,
Whether I be for Wyatt, or the Queen?
[Exeunt.
