Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    Henry VIII
    Henry VIII
    Henry VIII
    Ebook190 pages1 hour

    Henry VIII

    By William Shakespeare

    ()

    Switch to audiobook
    Read preview

    About this ebook

    The Famous History of the Life of King Henry the Eighth is a history play by William Shakespeare, based on the life of Henry VIII of England. An alternative title, All is True, is recorded in contemporary documents, the title Henry VIII not appearing until the play's publication in the First Folio of 1623. Stylistic evidence indicates that the play was written by Shakespeare in collaboration with, or revised by, his successor, John Fletcher. It is also somewhat characteristic of the late romances in its structure.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJA
    Release dateJun 7, 2018
    ISBN9782291037200
    Author

    William Shakespeare

    William Shakespeare was an English poet, playwright, and actor. He is widely regarded as the greatest dramatist in the English language. Shakespeare is often called England’s national poet and the “Bard of Avon.”  

    Read more from William Shakespeare

    Related to Henry VIII

    Related ebooks

    Classics For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      Bard In The Woods

      Nov 30, 2020

      Bard In The Woods
      4 min read

    • Article

      On Love

      Mar 7, 2022

      On Love
      7 min read

    • Article

      Press-ganged!

      Jun 13, 2019

      Press-ganged!
      3 min read

    • Article

      Three Poems by Geoffrey Hill

      Dec 15, 2018

      62. Why such irony in re the mystical context when a graph of even the most commonplace exchange would appear perplexed; when we drop out from the plainest statement in the posture of a bat? So, decide to make something of that, the style to resemble

      2 min read

    • Article

      Press Ganged!

      May 1, 2020

      Press Ganged!
      3 min read

    • Article

      On Grief

      Jul 29, 2019

      On Grief
      5 min read

    • Article

      Pray For The Republicans

      Apr 27, 2023

      BRACE YOURSELVES. While the rest of the country are enjoying the Coronation on 6 May, that small perpetually outraged huddle of Republicans and Secularists are going to go on the rampage. If the procession — with its bands, soldiers, golden carriages

      3 min read

    • Article

      Roger’s PROFANISAURUS

      Aug 5, 2021

      profanisaurus@viz.co.uk aroma diffuser 1. n. A scientific device that breaks “essential oils” down into smaller molecules, dispersing them into the air for a pleasant or calming effect on the gullible. 2. n. The arsehole. Barbie’s minge sim. Somethin

      8 min read

    • Article

      Fredericksburg’s Wounded Warriors

      Jul 11, 2023

      Fredericksburg’s Wounded Warriors
      6 min read

    • Article

      Twists And Turns

      Aug 19, 2019

      Twists And Turns
      2 min read

    • Article

      A Change Takes Place

      Oct 28, 2019

      A Change Takes Place
      5 min read

    • Article

      Roger’s PROFANISAURUS

      Apr 14, 2022

      Roger’s PROFANISAURUS
      9 min read

    • Article

      Four Poems

      Sep 4, 2018

      In London. England. Who knows why?Perhaps this rumpled guyFrom central casting or a page of Dickens.He’s taking ordinary usTo haunts of the illustrious,Where even dull pulse quickens. A red felt hat’s dark fingered brim,Food-spotted vest are—him.A mo

      4 min read

    • Article

      Faith Healing

      Jun 19, 2023

      Faith Healing
      3 min read

    • Article

      Another Passionless Day

      May 23, 2017

      Another Passionless Day
      2 min read

    • Article

      Air Rights

      Nov 1, 2020

      The French Church—never much on looks, red brick leaningin the direction of Romanesque—settled into modest circumstanceshow many decades on West 16th?Nothing divine in the details,veneer peeling from doors nevermeant for here, never open. No light,ev

      4 min read

    • Article

      Read a (Love) Letter From Herman Melville to Nathaniel Hawthorne

      Mar 16, 2017

      167 years ago today, Ticknor, Reed & Fields published The Scarlet Letter, Nathaniel Hawthorne’s classic novel of repentance and slut-shaming. But actually, this isn’t about The Scarlet Letter—it’s about one of the most fascinating friendships in lite

      5 min read

    • Article

      The Woman At Home

      Jan 29, 2019

      From the journals of Samuel P. Perceval,bookseller: Covent Garden, Dec. 15, 1974 This spring, I found a curious letter sewn into the hem of a coat belonging to my late great-aunt Florence. Crudely enveloped in what appeared to be a page torn from

      5 min read

    • Article

      The Pink

      Sep 22, 2023

      The Pink
      1 min read

    • Article

      Tessa Castro

      Jun 1, 2022

      IN COMPETITION No 280 you were invited to write a poem called Cutting. My cue was a 19th-century Norwegian painting I’d seen of a woman cutting bread. You widened it to cutting hair and grass, being cut down to size and cutting people dead in the str

      2 min read

    • Article

      Chitchat

      Nov 24, 2023

      Chitchat
      12 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for Henry VIII

    0 ratings

    0 ratings0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      Henry VIII - William Shakespeare

      Henry VIII

      William Shakespeare

       Copyright © 2018 by OPU

      All rights reserved.

      No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

      Act I

      PROLOGUE

      I come no more to make you laugh: things now,

      That bear a weighty and a serious brow,

      Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe,

      Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow,

      We now present. Those that can pity, here

      May, if they think it well, let fall a tear;

      The subject will deserve it. Such as give

      Their money out of hope they may believe,

      May here find truth too. Those that come to see

      Only a show or two, and so agree

      The play may pass, if they be still and willing,

      I'll undertake may see away their shilling

      Richly in two short hours. Only they

      That come to hear a merry bawdy play,

      A noise of targets, or to see a fellow

      In a long motley coat guarded with yellow,

      Will be deceived; for, gentle hearers, know,

      To rank our chosen truth with such a show

      As fool and fight is, beside forfeiting

      Our own brains, and the opinion that we bring,

      To make that only true we now intend,

      Will leave us never an understanding friend.

      Therefore, for goodness' sake, and as you are known

      The first and happiest hearers of the town,

      Be sad, as we would make ye: think ye see

      The very persons of our noble story

      As they were living; think you see them great,

      And follow'd with the general throng and sweat

      Of thousand friends; then in a moment, see

      How soon this mightiness meets misery:

      And, if you can be merry then, I'll say

      A man may weep upon his wedding-day.

      SCENE I. London. An ante-chamber in the palace.

      Enter NORFOLK at one door; at the other, BUCKINGHAM and 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 throned 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 guilt: the madams too,

      Not used 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 the 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 challenged

      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 believed.

      BUCKINGHAM

      O, you go far.

      NORFOLK

      As I belong to worship and affect

      In honour honesty, the tract of every thing

      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 order'd by the good discretion

      Of the right reverend Cardinal of York.

      BUCKINGHAM

      The devil speed him! no man's pie is freed

      From his ambitious finger. What had he

      To do in these fierce vanities? I wonder

      That such a keech can with his very bulk

      Take up the rays o' the beneficial sun

      And keep it from the earth.

      NORFOLK

      Surely, sir,

      There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends;

      For, being not propp'd by ancestry, whose grace

      Chalks successors their way, nor call'd upon

      For high feats done to the crown; neither allied

      For eminent assistants; but, spider-like,

      Out of his self-drawing web, he gives us note,

      The force of his own merit makes his way

      A gift that heaven gives for him, which buys

      A place next to the king.

      ABERGAVENNY

      I cannot tell

      What heaven hath given him,—let some graver eye

      Pierce into that; but I can see his pride

      Peep through each part of him: whence has he that,

      If not from hell? the devil is a niggard,

      Or has given all before, and he begins

      A new hell in himself.

      BUCKINGHAM

      Why the devil,

      Upon this French going out, took he upon him,

      Without the privity o' the king, to appoint

      Who should attend on him? He makes up the file

      Of all the gentry; for the most part such

      To whom as great a charge as little honour

      He meant to lay upon: and his own letter,

      The honourable board of council out,

      Must fetch him in the papers.

      ABERGAVENNY

      I do know

      Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that have

      By this so sickened their estates, that never

      They shall abound as formerly.

      BUCKINGHAM

      O, many

      Have broke their backs with laying manors on 'em

      For this great journey. What did this vanity

      But minister communication of

      A most poor issue?

      NORFOLK

      Grievingly I think,

      The peace between the French and us not values

      The cost that did conclude it.

      BUCKINGHAM

      Every man,

      After the hideous storm that follow'd, was

      A thing inspired; and, not consulting, broke

      Into a general prophecy; That this tempest,

      Dashing the garment of this peace, aboded

      The sudden breach on't.

      NORFOLK

      Which is budded out;

      For France hath flaw'd the league, and hath attach'd

      Our merchants' goods at Bourdeaux.

      ABERGAVENNY

      Is it therefore

      The ambassador is silenced?

      NORFOLK

      Marry, is't.

      ABERGAVENNY

      A proper title of a peace; and purchased

      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

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1