What can be faid against me. King. Krow you not How your ftate (tands i' th' world, with the whole world? The juftice and the truth o' th' queftion carries. At what ease Might corrupt minds procure knaves as corrupt Of as great fize. Ween you of better luck, Cran. God and your Majelly Protect mine innocence, or I fall into King. Be of good cheer; They thall no more prevail, than we give way to. Fail not to use, and with what vehemency Th' occafion fhall inftruct you. If intreaties Will render you no remedy, this ring Deliver them, and your appeal to us There make before them. Look, the good man weeps! None etter in my kingdom. Get you gone, And do as have bid you. [Exit Cranmer. H'astr angled all his language in his tears. Enter an Old Lady. Gen. [Within.] Come back; what mean you? Lady. I'll not come back; the tidings that I bring Will make my boldness manners. Now good angels Fly o'er thy royal head, and fhade thy perfon Under their leffed wings! King. Now by thy looks I guess thy meffage. Is the Queen deliver'd?" Lady Ay, ay, my Liege; And of a lovely boy; the God of heav'n Acquainted with this ftranger; 'tis as like you, King Lovell! Lov. Sir King. Give her an hundred marks. I'll to the Queen. [Exit King. Lady. An hundred marks! by this light, I'll ha' more. An ordinary groom is for such payment. I will have more, or fcold it out of him. Said I for this, the girl was like him? I'll Have more, or elfe unfay't: now, while 'tis hot, I'll put it to the flue. [Exit Lady. SCENE IV. Before the council-chamber. Enter Cranmer. Cran. I hope I'm not too late; and yet the Gentle man That was fent to me from the council, pray'd me Enter Door-keeper. D Keep. Yes, my Lord; But yet I cannot help you. D. Keep. Your Grace must wait till you be call'd for. Cran. So Butts. This is a piece of malice. I am glad I came this way fo happily. The King Shall understand it prefently. Cran. 'Tis Butts, [Exit. Butts. The King's phyfician. As he pass'd along, How earnettly he cat his eyes upon me! Pray heav'n, he found not my digrace! 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 fhame to make Wait elfe at door; a fellow-counsellor, [me 'Mong boys, and grooms, and lackeys! but their pleaMuft be fulfill'd, and i attend with patience. [fures Enter the King and Butts, at a window above. Butts. I'll fhew your Grace the strangest fight- Butts. I think your Highness saw this many a day. Butts. There, my Lord. The high promotion of his Grace of Canterbury, King. Ha! 'tis he indeed. Is this the honour they do one another ? SCENE V. The council. A council-table brought in, with chairs and ftools, and placed under the ftate. Enter Lord Chancellor, places_ himfelf at the upper end of the table on the left hand, a feat being left void above him, as for the Archbishop of Canterbury. Duke of Suffolk, Duke of Norfolk, Surrey, Lord Chamberlain, and Gardiner, feat themfelves in order on each fide. Cromwell at the lower end, as Secretary. Chan. Speak to the bufinefs, Mr Secretary: Why are we met in council? Crom. Please your Honours, The cause concerns his Grace of Canterbury. Grom. 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 know your pleasures. Chan. Let him come in. D. Keep. Your Grace may enter now. [Cranmer approaches the council-table. Chan. My good Lord Archbishop, I'm very forry To fit here at this prelent, and behold That chair ftand empty. But we all are men In our own natures frail, and capable Of trailty, few are angels: from which trailty, Gard. Which reformation muit be fudden too, (Out of our eafinets and childith pity To one man's honour) this contagious fickness, Commotions, uproars, with a gen'ral taint Of the whole ftate: as of late days our neighbours Yet freshly pitied in our memories. Cran. My good Lords, hitherto, in all the progrefs Both of my life and office, I have labour'd (And with no little ftudy) that my teaching, Pray Heav'n, the King may never find a heart Be what they will, may stand forth face to face, Suf. Nay my Lord. That cannot be}. you are a counsellor, And by that virtue no man dare accufe you. Gard. My Lord, because we've bufinefs of more moment, We will be short wi' you. 'Tis his Highness' pleasure And our confent, for better trial of you, From hence you be committed to the Tower; You fhall know many dare accufe you boldly, Gran. Ay, my good Lord of Winchester, I thank you, 'Tis my undoing. Love and meekness, Lord, Gard. My Lord, my Lord, you are a fectary, That's the plain truth; your painted glofs difcovers, To men that understand you, words and weakness. Crom. My Lord of Winchester, you are a little, By your good favour, too fharp; men fo noble, However faulty, yet should find respect For what they have been. 'Tis a cruelty Gard. Good Mr Secretary, I cry your Honour mercy; you may, wort Grom. Why, my Lord? Gard. Do not I know you for a favourer |