SCENE I. A Gallery in the Palace. Enter GARDINER, Bishop of Winchester; a Page with To waste these times.-Good hour of night, sir Thomas; Lov. Came you from the king, my lord? Gar. I did, sir Thomas; and left him at primero With the duke of Suffolk. Lov. Gar. Not yet, sir Thomas Lovell. What's the matter? It seems, you are in haste: an if there be 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 Lov. And durst commend a secret to My lord, I love you; your ear The queen's in labour, and fear'd, The fruit, she goes with, I pray for heartily; that it may find Good time, and live: but for the stock, sir Thomas, I wish it grubb'd up now. Lov. Methinks, I could Gar. Lov. Gar. That does infect the land: with which they moved, Have broken with the king; who hath so far He be convented. He's a rank weed, sir Thomas, vant. As LOVELL is going out, enter the KING and the K. Hen. Charles, I will play no more to-night; Nor shall not, when my fancy's on my play.— K. Hen. What say'st thou? ha? To pray for her? what, is she crying out? Lov. So said her woman; aud that her sufferance made Almost each pang a death. K. Hen. Alas, good lady! Suf. God safely quit her of her burden, and With gentle travail, to the gladding of Your highness with an heir! K. Hen. Pr'ythee, to bed; and in thy prayers remember "Tis midnight, Charles, Leave me alone; I wish your highness For I must think of that, which company Suf. K. Hen. Charles, good night. Enter SIR ANTHONY DENNY. Well, sir, what follows? 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? Den. He attends your highness' pleasure. K. Hen. Lov. This is about that which the bishop spake; I am happily come hither K. Hen. Bring him to us. [Exit Denny. [Aside. Re-enter DENNY, with CRANMER. Ha! I have said.-Be gone. What! [Exeunt Lovell and Denny. Cran. I am fearful:-Wherefore frowns he thus? "Tis his aspéct of terror. All's not well. K. Hen. How now, my lord? You do desire to know Wherefore I sent for you. Cran. It is my duty, To attend your highness' pleasure. K. Hen. 'Pray you, arise, My good and gracious lord of Canterbury. I have news to tell you: Come, come, give me your hand. Grievous complaints of you; which, being consider'd, F Which will require your answer, you must take To make your house our Tower: You a brother of us, Would come against you. Cran. I humbly thank your highness; And am right glad to catch this good occasion Most throughly 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. In us, thy friend: Give me thy hand, stand up; Cran. Most dread liege, Will triumph o'er my person; which I weigh not, 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 |