Sivut kuvina

I guess thy message. Is the Queen deliver'd?
Say Ay, and of a boy.

Lady. Ay, ay, my Liege ;
And of a lovely boy; the God of heav'n
Both now and ever bless her ? — 'tis a girl,
Promises boys hereafter. Sir, your Queen
Desires your visitation, and to be
Acquainted with this stranger; 'tis as like you,
As cherry is to cherry.

King. Lovell !
Lov. Sir,
King. Give her an hundred marks. I'll to the Queen.

[Exit King
Lady. An hundred marks ! by this light, l'll ha' more.
An ordinary groom is for such payment,
I will have more, or scold it out of him.
Said I for this, the girl was like him? I'll
Have more, or else unsay't : now, while 'tis hot,
I'll put it to the issue.

[Exit Lady, SCENE IV. Before the Council-chamber.

Enter Cranmer, Cran. I hope I'm not too late; and yet the Gentle

That was sent to me from the council, pray'd me
To make great hafte. All fast? what incans this? hoa?
Who waits there? sure you know me ?

Enter Door.keeper
D. Keep. Yes, my Lord ;
But yet I cannot help you.

Cran. Why?
D. Keep. Your Grace must wait till you be call'd for.

Enter Doctor Butts.
Cran. So

Butts. This is a piece of malice. I am glad
I came this way so happily. The King
Shall understand it presently.

[Exit Butts.
Gran. 'Tis Butts,
The King's physician. As he pass’d along,
How earnestly he cast his eyes upon me!
Pray heav'n, he found not my disgrace! for certain,


This is of purpose laid by some that hate me,
(God turn their hearts! I never fought their malice).
To quench mine honour: they would shame to make
Wait elle at door ; a fellow counsellor,

[me, 'Mong boys, and grooms, and lackeys! but their pleaMust be fulfill d, and I attend with patience. [sures

Enter the King, and Butts, at a window above.
Butts. I'll shew your Grace the strangest sight-
King. What's that, Butts ?
Butts. I think your Highness saw this many a day.
King. Body o' me, where is it?

Bittts. There, my Lord.
The high promotion of his Grace of Canterbury,
Who holds his state at door ʼmongst pursuivants,
Pages, and foot-boys.

King. Ha! 'tis he indeed.
Is this the honour they do one another?
'Tis well there's one above 'em yet. I thought:
They'd parted so much honesty among 'em,
At least, good manners, as not thus to suffer
A man of his place, and so near our favour,
To dance attendance on their Lordship's pleasures
And at the door too, like a post with packets.
By holy Mary, Butts, there's knavery;
Let 'em alone, and draw the curtain close,
We fhall bear more anon.

SCENE V The councile

A council-table brought in, with chairs and stools, and

placed under the state. Enter Lord Chancellor, places himself at the upper end of the table on the left hand, a seat being left void above him, as for the Archbishop of Canterbury. Duke of Suffolk, Duke of Norfolk, Surry, Lord Chamberlain, and Gardiner, feat themfelves in order on each side, Cromwell at the lower end, as Secretary.

Chan. Speak to the business, Mr. Secretary :
Why are we met in council?

Crom. Please your Honours,
The cause concerns his Grace of Canterbury. .
Gard. Has he had knowledge of it?


Crom. Yes.
Nor. Who waits there?
D. Keep. Without, my noble Lords?
Gard. Yes.

D. Keep. My Lord Archbishop ;
And has done half an hour to attend your pleasures.

Cban. Let him come in.
D. Keep. Your Grace may enter now.

[Cranmer approaches the council-table.
Chan. My good Lord Archbishop, I'm very sorry
To fit here at this present, and behold
That chair stand empty.

But we all are men In our own natures frail, and capable Of frailty, few are angels : from which frailty, And want of wisdom, you that best should teach us, Have misdemean’d yourself, and not a little ; Tow'rd the King first, and then his laws, in filling The whole realm, by your teaching and your chaplains, (For so we are inform’d), with new opinions Divers and dangerous, which are heresies ; And not reform’d, may prove pernicious.

Gard. Which reformation must be sudden too, My noble Lords ; for those that tame wild horses, Pace 'ein not in their hands to make 'em gentle ; But stop their mouths with stubborn bits, and spurem, Till they obey the manage. If we suffer (Out of our easiness and childish pity To one man's honour) this contagious fickness, Farewel all phyfic: and what follows then? Commotions, uproars, with a gen'ral taint Of the whole state: as of late days our neighbours The Upper Germany can dearly witness, Yet freshly pitied in our memories.

Cran. My good Lords, hitherto, in all the progress Both of my life and office, I have labour'd (And with no little study) that my teaching, And the strong course of my authority, Might go one way, and safely; and the end Was ever to do well : nor is there living (I speak it with a single heart, my Lords) A man that more detests, more stirs against, (Both in his private conscience and his place), Defacers of the public peace, than I do.


Pray Heav'n, the King may never find a heart
With less allegiance in it! men that make
Envy and crooked malice nourishment,
Dare bite the best. I do beseech your Lordships,
That, in this cate of justice, my accusers,
Be what they will, may stand forth face to face,
And freely urge againīt me.

Stuf Nay, my Lord,
That cannot be; you are a counsellor,
And by that virtue no man dare accuse you.
Gard. My Lord, because we've businefs of more

moment, We will be short wi' you. 'Tis his Highness' pleasure, And our content, for better trial of you, From hence you be committed to the Tower; Where being but a private man again, You shall know many dare accuse you boldly, More than, I fear, you are provided for.

Cran. Ay, my good Lord of Winchester, I thank you, You're always my good friend; if your will pass, I shall both find your Lordship judge and juror, You are fo merciful. I see your end, 'Tis my undoing. Love and meekness, Lord, Become a churchman better than ambition: Win straying fouls with modesty again, Caft none away. That I shall clear myself, (Lay all the weight ye can upon my patience), I make as little doubt, as you do conscience In doing daily wrongs. I could say more, But rev'rence to your calling makes me modest.

Gard. My Lord, my Lord, you are a fectary, That's the plain truth; your painted gloss discovers, To men that underitand you, words and weakness.

Crom. My Lord of Winchester, you are little,
By your good favour too sharp; men so noble,
However faulty, yet should find respect
For what they have been. 'Tis a cruclty
To load a falling man.

Gard Good Mr. Secretary,
I cry your Honour mercy; you may, worst
Of all this table say so.

Gro11. Why, my Lord ?
Card. Do not I know you for a favourer

Of this new sect ! ye are not found.

Crom. Not found ?
Gard. Not found, I say.

Grom. Would you were half so honest !
Men's pray’rs then would seek you, not their fears.

Gard. I shall remember this bold language.

Crom. Do.
Remember your bold life too.

Cham. This is too much;
Forbear for shame, my Lords.

Gard. I've done.
Crom. And I.

Cham. Then thus for you my Lord: it stands agreed,
I take it by all voices, that forthwith
You be convey'd to th' Tower a prisoner;
There to remain, till the King's further pleasure
Be known unto us. Are ye all agreed, Lords?

All. We are.
Gran: Is there no other

way mercy, But I'must needs to th' Tower, my Lords?

Gard. What other
Would you expect? you're strangely troublesome :
Let fome oth guard be ready there.


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Enter Guard.
Cran. For me?
Must I go like a traitor then?

Gard. Receive him,
And see him fafe i'th' Tower.

Cran. Stay, good my Lords,
I have a little yet to say. Look there, Lords;
By virtue of that ring, I take my cause
Out of the gripes of cruel men, and give it
To a most noble judge, the King my maiter.

Cham. This is the King's ring.
Sur. 'Tis no counterfeit.

Suf. 'Tis his right ring, by Heav'n. I told ye all, When we first put this dang'rous stone a-rowling, 'Twould fall


Nor. D'you think, my Lords,
The King will sufíer but the little finger
Of this man to be vex'd ?
Vot V.



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