Lov.

Came you from the king. my lord? Gar. I did, sir Thomas; and left him at primero With the duke of Suffolk.

Lov.

I must to him too,

Before he go to bed. I'll take my leave.

Lov. So said her woman; and that her sufferance Almost each pang a death. made K. Hen. Alas, good lady! Suf. God safely quit her of her burden, aud With gentle travail, to the gladding of Your highness with an heir! K. Hen.

'Tis midnight, Charle

matter?

It seems, you are in haste; an if there be
No great offence belongs to t, give your friend
Some touch of your late business: Affairs, that walk
(As, they say, spirits do) at midnight, have
In them a wilder nature, than the business
That seeks despatch by day.

Lov.

My lord, I love you; And durst commend a secret to your ear Much weightier than this work. The queen's in

labour,

They say, in great extremity; and fear'd, She'll with the labour end.

Cry thee amen; and yet my conscience says
She's a good creature, and, sweet lady, does
Deserve our better wishes.

Gar.
But, sir, sir,-
Hear me, sir Thomas: You are a gentleman
Of my own way; I know you wise, religious;
And, let me tell you, it will ne'er be well,-
'Twill not, sir Thomas Lovell, take`t of me,-
Till Cranmer, Cromwell, her two hands, and she,
Sleep in their
graves.
Lov.
Now, sir, ye speak of two
The most remark'd i'the kingdom. As for Crem-
well,-

Beside that of the jewel-house, he's made master O'the rolls, and the king's secretary; further, sir, Stands in the gap and trade of more preferments, With which the time will load him; The archbishop

Is the king's hand, and tongue; And who dare speak One syllable against him?

Gar.

Yes, yes, sir Thomas,
There are, that dare; and I myself have ventur'd
To speak my mind of him: and, indeed, this day,
Sir, (I may tell it you,) I think, I have'
Incens'd the lords o'the council, that he is
(For so I know he is, they know he is)
A most arch heretic, a pestilence,

That does infect the land: with which they moved,
Have broken with the king; who hath so far
Given ear to our complaint, (of his great grace
And princely care; foreseeing those fell mischiefs
Our reasons laid before him,) he hath commanded,
To-morrow morning to the council-board

He be convented. He's a rank weed, Sir Thomas,
And we must root him out. From your affairs
I hinder you too long: good night, sir Thomas,
Lov. Many good nights, my lord; I rest your
[Exeunt Gardiner and Page.
As Lovell is going out, enter the King and the
Duke of SUFFOLK.

servant.

K. Hen. Charles, I will play no more to-night; My mind's not on't, you are too hard for me. Suf. Sir, I did never win of you before. K. Hen. But little, Charles; Nor shall not, when my faucy's on my play.-Now, Lovell, from the queen what is the news? Lov. I could not personally deliver to her What you commanded me, but by her woman

Den. Sir, I have brought my lord the archbishop, As you commanded me.

K. Hen.

Den. Ay, my good lord.

K. Hen.

Ha! Canterbury?

Tis true: Where is he, Denny"

Bring him to us. Exit Denny.

Den. He attends your highness' pleasure.

K. Hen.
Lov. This is about that which the bishop spake;

I am happily come hither.

Re-enter DENNY, with CRANMER.

K. Hen.

(Aside.)

Ha-I have said.-Begone.

What!

Cran. I am fearful:-Wherefore frowns he thus?
'Tis his aspect of terror. All's not well.
K. Hen. How now, my lord? You do desire to
Wherefore I sent for you?
KNOW

Cran.
It is my duty
To attend your highness' pleasure.
K. Hen.

'Pray you, arise,
My good and gracious lord of Canterbury.
Come, you and I must walk a turn together;
I have news to tell you: Come, come, give me your

hand.

Ah, my good lord, I grieve at what I speak,
And am right sorry to repeat what follows:
I have, and must unwillingly, of late
Heard many grievous, I do say, my lord,
Grievous complaints of you; which, being con
sider'd,

Have mov`d us and our council, that you shall
This morning come before us; where, I know,
You cannot with such freedom purge yourself
But that, till further trial, in those charges,
Which will require your answer, you must take
Your patience to you, and be well contented
To make your house our Tower: You a brother of us,
It fits we thus proceed, or else no witness
Would come against you.

Cran
I humbly thank your highness,
And am right glad to catch this good occasion
Most thoroughly to be winnow'd, where my chaff
And corn shall fly asunder; for, I know,
There's none stands under more calumnious tongues,
Than I myself, poor man.
K. Hen.
Stand up, good Canterbury;
Thy truth, and thy integrity, is rooted
In us, thy friend: Give me thy hand, stand up;
Prythee, let's walk. Now, by my holy dame,
What manner of man are you? My lord, I look'd
You would have given me your petition, that
I should have taken some pains to bring together
Yourself and your accusers; and to have heard you
Without endurance, further.

Cran.

Most dread liege,
The good I stand on is my truth, and honesty.
If they shall fail, I, with mine enemies,
Will triumph o'er my person; which I weigh not,
Being of those virtues vacant. I fear nothing
What can be said against me.
K. Hen.
Know you not how
Your state stands i' the world, with the whole world?
Your enemies

Are many, and not small; their practices
Must bear the same proportion: and not ever
The justice and the truth o'the question carries
The due o'the verdict with it: At what ease
Might corrupt minds procure knaves as corrupt
To swear against you? Such things have been done.
You are potently oppos'd; and with a malice
Of a great size. Weea you of better luck,
I mean, in perjur'd witness, than your master,
Whose minister you are, whiles here he liv'd
Upon this naughty earth? Go to, go to;
You take a precipice for no leap of danger,
And woo your own destruction.

Cran.
God, and your majesty,
Protect mine innocence, or I fall into
The trap is laid for me!

Be of good cheer;

K. Hen. They shall no more prevail, than we give way to. Keep comfort to you; and this morning see Yca do appear before them: if they shall chance, In charging you with matters, to commit you, The best persuasions to the contrary Faid not to use, and with what vehemency The occasion shall instruct you; if entreaties Will render you no remedy, this ring Deliver them, and your appeal to us

There make before them.-Look, the good man weeps!

He's honest, on mine honour. God's blest mother!
I swear he is true-hearted; and a soul

None better in my kingdom.-Get you gone,
Ad do as I have bid you.-

He has strangled

His language in his tears.

[Exit Cranmer.

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

So.

¡Exit Butts. Cran. 'Tis Butts, (Aside.) The king's physician: As he past along, How earnestly he cast his eyes upon me! Pray heaven, he sound not my disgrace! For certain, This is of purpose laid, by some that hate me, (God turn their hearts! I never sought their malice,) To quench mine honour: they would shame to make me

Wait else at door; a fellow counsellor, Among boys, grooms, and lackeys But their pleasures

Must be fulfill'd, and I attend with patience.

Enter, at a window above, the King and BUTTS.
Butts. I'll shew your grace the strangest sight,-
K. Hen.
What's that, Butts?
Butts. I think, your highness saw this many a
day.

K. Hen. Body o'me, where is it?

Butts.

There, my lord: The high promotion of his grace of Canterbury; Who holds his state at door, 'mongst pursuivants, Pages and footboys.

K. Hen.

Ha! 'Tis he, indeed: Is this the honour they do one auother? "Tis well, there's one above them yet. I had thought

They had parted so much honesty among them,
(At least, good manners,) as not thus to suffer
A man of his place, and so near our favour,
To dance attendance on their lordships' pleasures,
And at the door, too, like a post with packets.
By holy Mary, Butts, there's knavery:
Let them alone, and draw the curtain close;
We shall hear more anon.-

[Exeunt.

The Council-Chamber. Enter the Lord Chancellor, the Duke of SUFFOLK, Earl of SURREY, Lord Chamberlain, GARDINER, and CROMWELL. The 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. The rest seat themselves in order on each side. Cromwell at the lower end, as secretary.

Chan. Speak the business, master secretary: Why are we met in council?

Crom.

Please your honours,

The chief cause concerns his grace of Canterbury. Gar. Has he had knowledge of it?

Crom.

Nor.

Yes. Who waits there?

Yes. My lord archbishop;

D. Keep. Without, my noble lords? Gar.

D. Keep.

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 am very sorry To sit here at this present, and behold That chair stand empty: But we all are men, In our own nature frail; and capable Of our flesh, few are angels: out of which frailty, And want of wisdom, you, that best should teach us, Have misdemean'd yourself, and not a little

Toward the king first, 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.

Gar. Which reformation must be sudden too, My noble lords: for those, that tame wild horses, Pace them not in their hands to make them gentle : But stop their mouths with stubborn bits, and spur them,

Till they obey the manage. If we suffer
(Out of our easiness, and childish pity

To one man's honour) this contagions sickness,
Farewell, all physic: And what follows then?
Commotions, uproars, with a general taint

Of the whole state: as, of late days, our neighbours,
The upper Germany, can dearly witness,
Yet freshly pitied in our memories.

[gress

Cran. My good lords, hitherto, in all the pro-
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 a public peace, than I do.

Pray heaven, the king may never find a heart
With less allegiance in it! Men, that make
Envy, and crook'd malice, nourishment,
Dare bite the best. I do beseech your lordships,
That, in this case of justice, my accusers,

Be what they will, may stand forth face to face,
And freely urge against me.
Suf
Nay, my lord,
That cannot be; you are a counsellor,
And, by that virtue, no man dare accuse yon.
Gar. My lord, because we have business of

And our consent, 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.

you,

Cran. Ah, my good lord of Winchester, I thank You are always my good friend; if your will pass, I shall both find your lordship judge and juror, You are so merciful; I see your end, Tis my undoing: Love, and meekness, lord, Become a churchman better than ambition; Win straying souls with modesty again, Cast 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 reverence to your calling makes me modest. Gar. My lord, my lord, you are a sectary, That's the plain truth; your painted gloss dis

Must I go like a traitor thither? Gar.

And see him safe i'the Tower.

Cran.

For me?

Receive him,

Stay, good my lords, I have a little yet to say. Look there, my 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 master. Cham. This is the king's ring.

Sur. 'Tis no counterfeit. Suf. 'Tis the right ring, by heaven: I told ye all, When we first put this dangerous stone a rolling, "Twould fall upon ourselves.

Nor. Do you think, my lords, The king will suffer but the little finger Of this man to be vex'd?

My mind gave me.

In seeking tales and informations,
Against this man, (whose honesty the devil
And his disciples only envy at.).
Ye blew the fire that burns ye: Now have at ye.

Enter King, frowning on them; takes his seat. Gar. Dread sovereign, how much are we bound to heaven

In daily thanks, that gave us such a prince;
Not only good and wise, but most religious:
One that, in all obedience, makes the church
The chief aim of his honour; and, to strengthen
That holy duty, out of dear respect,

His royal self in judgment comes to hear,
The cause betwixt her and this great offender.
K. Hen. You were ever good at sudden con-
mendations,
Bishop of Winchester. But know, I come not
To hear such flattery now, and in my presence;
They are too thin and base to hide offences.
To me you cannot reach, you play the spaniel,
And think with wagging of your tongue to win me;
But, whatsoe'er thou tak'st me for, I am sure
Thou hast a cruel nature, and a bloody.

Good man, to Cranmer) sit down. Now let me

see the proudest

He, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee:
By all that's holy, he had better starve,
Than but once think his place becomes thee not.
Sur. May it please your grace,—

K. Hen.

No, sir, it does not please me.

I had thought, I had had men of some under

standing

And wisdom, of my council; but find none.
Was it discretion, lords, to let this man,
This good man, (few of you deserve that title,)
This honest man, wait like a lousy footboy
At chamber-door? and one as great as you are?
Why, what a shame was this? Did my commiss
Bid ye so far forget yourselves? I gave ye

K. Hen.

Thank you, good lord archbishop:

What is her name?

Stand up. Jord.(The King kisses the Child.) With this kiss take my blessing: God protect Into whose hands I give thy life. [thee! Cran.

Amen.

K. Hen. My noble gossips, ye have been too
prodigal :

I thank ye heartily; so shall this lady,
When she has so much English.

Cran.
Let me speak, sir,
For heaven now bids me; and the words I utter
Let none think tattery, for they'll find them truth.
This royal infant, (heaven still move about her!)
Though in her cradle, yet now promises
Upon this land a thousand thousand blessings,
Which time shall bring to ripeness: She shall be
(But few now living can behold that goodness,)
A pattern to all princes, living with her,
And all, that shall succeed: Sheba was never
More covetous of wisdom, and fair virtue,
Than this pure soul shall be: all princely graces,
That mould up such a mighty piece as this is,
With all the virtues that attend the good,
Shall still be doubled on her: truth shall nurse her,
Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her:
She shall be lov'd, and fear'd: Her own shall bless
ber:

Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn,
And hang their heads with sorrow: Good grows
with her:

In her days, every man shall eat in safety
Under his own vine, what he plants; and sing
The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours:
God shall be truly known; and those about her
From her shall read the perfect ways of honour,
And by those claim their greatness, not by blood.
Nor shall this peace sleep with her: But as when

That were the servants to this chosen infant,
Shall then be his, and like a vine grow to him:
Wherever the bright sun of heaven shall shine,
His honour and the greatness of his name
Shall be, and make new nations: He shall flourish,
And, like a mountain cedar, reach his branches
To all the plains about him:-Our children'
children

Shall see this, and bless heaven.

K. Hen.

Thou speakest wonders. Cran. She shall be, to the happiness of England, An aged princess; many days shall see her, And yet no day without a deed to crown it. Would I had known no more! but she must die, She must, the saints must have her; yet a virgin, A most unspotted lily shall she pass

To the ground, and all the world shall mourn her.
K. Hen. O lord archbishop,

Thou hast made me now a man; never, before
This happy child, did I get any thing:
This oracle of comfort has so pleas'd me,
That, when I am in heaven, I shall desire
To see what this child does, and praise my Maker.-
I thank ye all,-To o you, my good lord mayor,
And your good brethren, I am much beholden;
I have receiv'd much honour by your presence,
And ye shall find me thankful. Lead the way
lords;-

Ye must all see the queen, and she must thank ye,
She will be sick else. This day, no man think
He has business at his house; for all shall stay,
This little one shall make it holiday.

EPILOGUE.

[Exeunt

'Tis ten to one, this play can never please All that are here: Some come to take their ease, And sleep an act or two: but those, we fear, We have frighted with our trumpets; so, 'tis clear, They'll say, 'tis naught: others, to hear the city Abus'd extremely, and to cry,-that's witty! Which we have not done neither: that, I fear, All the expected good we are like to hear For this play at this time, is only in The merciful construction of good women; For such a one we shew'd them: If they smile And say, 'twill do, I know, within a while All the best men are ours; for 'tis ill hap, If they hold, when their ladies bid them clap.