Gar. But, Sir, Sir, Hear me, Sir Thomas: you're a gentleman Lov. Now, Sir, you speak of two The most remark'd i' the kingdom. As for Cromwell,- Is the king's hand and tongue; and who dare speak Gar. Yes, yes, Sir Thomas, There are that dare; and I myself have ventured Sir, (I may tell it you,) I think I have That does infect the land: with which they moved, He be convented. He's a rank weed, Sir Thomas, K. Hen. Charles, I will play no more to-night; 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, and With gentle travail, to the gladding of Your highness with an heir! K. Hen. 'Tis midnight, Charles; Pr'ythee, to bed; and in thy prayers remember Suf. I wish your highness A quiet night; and my good mistress will K. Hen. Charles, good night. [Exit SUFFOLK Lov. [Aside.] This is about that which the bishop I am happily come hither. Re-enter DENNY, with CRANMER. [spake; K. Hen. Avoid the gallery. [LOVELL seems to stay. Ha! I have said.-Begone. What! [Exeunt LOVELL and DENNY. Cran. [Aside] I am fearful:-Wherefore frowns he 'Tis his aspect of terror. All's not well. [thus! K. Hen. How now, my lord? You do desire to know Wherefore I sent for you. Cran. [Kneeling] 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 you Ah, my good lord, I grieve at what I speak, [band. I have, and most unwillingly, of late Cran. I humbly thank your highness; And am right glad to catch this good occasion There's none stands under more calumnious tongues K. Hen. Stand up, good Canterbury; In us, thy friend: give me thy hand, stand up; I should have ta'en some pains to bring together Cran. Most dread liege, The good I stand on is my truth and honesty; Will triumph o'er my person: which I weigh not, K. Hen. Know you not how Your state stands I' the world, with the whole world! Are many, and not small; their practices I mean in perjured witness, than your Master, Cran. God and your majesty Protect mine innocence, or I fall into K. Hen. Be of good cheer; They shall no more prevail than we give way to. You do appear before them: if they shall chance, Deliver them, and your appeal to us There make before them.-Look, the good man weeps! None better in my kingdom.-Get you gone, And do as I have bid you.-[Exit CRANMER.] He has strangled His language in his tears. Enter an Old Lady. Gent. [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 shade thy person Under their blessed wings! K. Hen. Now, by thy looks I guess thy message. Is the queen deliver'd? Lady. Ay, ay, my liege; And of a lovely boy: the God of heaven Both now and ever bless her!-'tis a girl,- Sir, your queen Desires your visitation, and to be Acquainted with this stranger: 'tis as like you As cherry is to cherry. K. Hen. Lovell, Lov. Sir? Re-enter LovELL. K. Hen. Give her a hundred marks. I'll to the queen. [Exit KING. Lady. A hundred marks! By this light, I'll have An ordinary groom is for such payment. [more. I will have more, or scold it out of him. Is this the honour they do one another? '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, THE COUNCIL-CHAMBER. [Exeunt Enter the LORD CHANCELLOR, the DUKE OF SUFFOLK, the DUKE OF NORFOLK, 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 to the business, master secretary: Why are we met in council? Crom. Please your honours, The chief cause concerns his grace of Canterbury. Nor. Who waits there? D. Keep. Without, my noble lords? 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 am very sorry To sit here at this present, and behold That chair stand empty: but we all are men, In our own natures frail, and capable Of our flesh; few are angels: out of which frailty, 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 Till they obey the manage. If we suffer [them, (Out of our easiness and childish pity To one man's honour) this contagious sickness, Of the whole state: as, of late days, our neighbours, Cran My good lords, hitherto, in all the progress Dare bite the best. I do beseech your lordships 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 accuse you. Gar. My lord, because we have business of more moment, We will be short with you. 'Tis his highness' pleasure From hence you be committed to the Tower; Cran. Ah, my good lord of Winchester, I thank you 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,- Become a churchman better than ambition: Crom. My lord of Winchester, you are a little, For what they have been: 'tis a cruelty Gar. Good master secretary, I cry your honour mercy; you may, worst Of all this table, say so. Crom. Why, my lord? Gar. Do not I know you for a favourer Of this new sect? ye are not sound. Gar. Not sound, I say. Crom. Would you were half so honest! Men's prayers then would seek you, not their fears. Gar. I shall remember this bold language. Crom. Do. Remember your bold life too. Chan. This is too much; Forbear, for shame, my lords. Gar. I have done. Crom. And I. Chan. Then thus for you, my lord:-it stands agreed, I take it, by all voices, that forthwith You be convey'd to the Tower a prisoner; Cran. Is there no other way of mercy, Would you expect? You are strangely troublesome.Let some o' the guard be ready there. Cran. For me? Enter Guard. Must I go like a traitor thither? Gar. Receive him, And see him safe i' the Tower. Cran. 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. 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? Cham. 'Tis now too certain: How much more is his life in value with him? Crom. My mind gave me, In seeking tales and informations Against this man, (whose honesty the devil Ye blew the fire that burns ye: now have at ye. Enter the KING, frowning on them; takes his seat. His royal self in judgment comes to hear K. Hen. You were ever good at sudden commenda- [To CRANMER.] Good man, sit down. Now let me see the proudest He that dares most, but wag his finger at thee: Than but once think this place becomes thee not. K. Hen. No, Sir, it does not please me. I had thought I had had men of some understanding At chamber door? and one as great as you are? Would try him to the utmost, had ye mean; Chan. Thus far, My most dread sovereign, may it like your grace To let my tongue excuse all. What was purposed Concerning his imprisonment, was rather (If there be faith in men) meant for his trial And fair purgation to the world, than malice,I am sure, in me. K. Hen. Well, well, my lords, respect him; Take him, and use him well, he's worthy of it. I will say thus much for him,-if a prince May be beholden to a subject, I [bury, Am, for his love and service, so to him. Two noble partners with you; the old duchess of Nor- Noise and tumult within Enter Porter and his Man. Port. You'll leave your noise anon, ye rascals: de you take the court for Paris-garden? ye rude slaves, leave your gaping. [Within.] Good master porter, I belong to the larder. Port. Belong to the gallows, and be hanged, you rogue! Is this a place to roar in?-Fetch me a dozen crabtree staves, and strong ones; these are but switches to them. I'll scratch your heads: you must be seeing christenings? Do you look for ale and cakes here, you rude rascals? Man. Pray, Sir, be patient; 'tis as much impossible (Unless we sweep them from the door with cannons) To scatter them, as 'tis to make them sleep On May-day morning; which will never be: We may as well push against Paul's, as stir them. Port. How got they in, and be hang'd? Man. Alas, I know not; how gets the tide in? As much as one sound cudgel of four foot (You see the poor remainder) could distribute, I made no spare, Sir. Port. You did nothing, Sir. Man. I am not Samson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colbrand, to mow them down before me: but if I spared any that had a head to hit, either young or old, he or she, cuckold or cuckold-maker, let me never hope to see a chine again; and that I would not for a cow, God save her! [Within.] Do you hear, master porter? Port. I shall be with you presently, good master puppy.-Keep the door close, sirrah. Man. What would you have me do? Port. What should you do, but knock them down by the dozens? Is this Moorfields to muster in? or have we some strange Indian with the great tool come court, the women so besiege us? Bless me, what a fry of fornication is at door! On my Christian conscience, this one christening will beget a thousand; here will be father, godfather, and all together. Man. The spoons will be the bigger, Sir. There is a fellow somewhat near the door, he should be a brazier by his face; for, o' my conscience, twenty of the dogdays now reign in 's nose: all that stand about him are under the line, they need no other penance. That firedrake did I hit three times on the head, and three times was his nose discharged against me: he stands there, like a mortar-piece, to blow us. There was a haberdasher's wife of small wit near him, that railed upon me till her pinked porringer fell off her head, for kindling such a combustion in the state. I missed the meteor once, and hit that woman, who cried out, "Clubs!" when I might see from far some forty truncheoners draw to her succour, which were the hope of the Strand, where she was quartered. They fell on; I made good my place at length they came to the broomstaff with me; I defied them still: when suddenly a file of boys behind them, loose shot, delivered such a shower of pebbles, that I was fain to draw mine honour in, and let them win the work. The devil was amongst them, I think, surely. Port. These are the youths that thunder at a playhouse, and fight for bitten apples; that no audience, but the Tribulation of Tower hill, or the Limbs of Limehouse, their dear brothers, are able to endure. I have some of them in Limbo Patrum, and there they are like to dance these three days; besides the running banquet of two beadles, that is to come. Enter the Lord Chamberlain. Cham. Mercy o' me, what a multitude are here! They grow still too, from all parts they are coming, As if we kept a fair here! Where are these porters, These lazy knaves ?-Ye have made a fine hand, fellows: There's a trim rabble let in are all these Your faithful friends o' the suburbs? We shall have Great store of room, no doubt, left for the ladies, When they pass back from the christening. Port. An't please your honour, We are but men; and what so many may do, Cham. As I live, If the king blame me for 't, I'll lay ye all Ye should do service. Hark! the trumpets sound; To let the troop pass fairly; or I'll find A Marshalsea shall hold you play these two months. Port. Make way there for the princess. Man. You great fellow, stand close up, or I'll make your head ache. Port. You i' the camblet, get up o' the rail; I'll peck you o'er the pales else. SCENE IV.-The Palace. [Ereund. Enter trumpets, sounding; then two Aldermen, Lord Mayor, Garter, CRANMER, DUKE OF NORFOLK, with his marshal's staff, DUKE OF SUFFOLK, two Noblemen bearing great standing-bowls for the christening gifts; then four Noblemen bearing a canopy, under which the DUCHESS OF NORFOLK, godmother, bearing the child richly habited in a mantle, d'c. Train borne by a Lady; then follows the MARCHIONESS OF DORSET, the other godmother, and Ladies. The troop pass once about the stage, and Garter speaks. Gart. Heaven, from thy endless goodness, send prosperous life, long and ever happy, to the high and mighty princess of England, Elizabeth! Flourish. Enter KING and train. Cran. [Kneeling.] And, to your royal grace and the My noble partners and myself thus pray: [good queen, All comfort, joy, in this most gracious lady, Heaven ever laid up to make parents happy, May hourly fall upon ye! K. Hen. Thank you, good lord archbishop; What is her name? Cran. Elizabeth. K. Hen Stand up, lord.- [The KING kisses the child. For heaven now bids me; and the words I utter As great in admiration as herself; So shall she leave her blessedness to one [her: His honour and the greatness of his name K. Hen. Thou speakest wonders. Cran. She shall be, to the happiness of England, To the groun 1, and all the world shall mourn her. Thou hast made me now a man! never, before This happy child, did I get anything: This oracle of comfort has so pleased me, To see what this child does, and praise my Maker.- EPILOGUE. '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 Abused 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. PROLOGUE. In Troy, there lies the scene. From isles of Greece With wanton Paris sleeps; and that's the quarrel. And the deep-drawing barks do there disgorge Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits ACT I SCENE I.-TROY. Before PRIAM'S Palace Enter TROILUS armed, and PANDARUS. Tro. Call here my varlet, I'll unarm again: Why should I war without the walls of Troy, That find such cruel battle here within? Each Trojan that is master of his heart, Let him to field; Troilus, alas! hath none. Pan. Will this gear ne'er be mended? [strength, Tro. The Greeks are strong, and skilful to their Fierce to their skill, and to their fierceness valiant; But I am weaker than a woman's tear, Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance; Less valiant than the virgin in the night, And skill-less as unpractised infancy. Pan. Well, I have told you enough of this: for my part, I'll not meddle nor make no further. He that will have a cake out of the wheat must tarry the grindIng. Tro. Have I not tarried? Pan. Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry the bolting. Tro. Have I not tarried? Pan. Ay, the bolting; but you must tarry the leaven ing. Tro. Still have I tarried. Pan. Ay, to the leavening: but here's yet in the word "hereafter," the kneading, the making of the cake, the heating of the oven, and the baking; nay, you must stay the cooling too, or you may chance to burn your lips. Tro. Patience herself, what goddess e'er she be, And when fair Cressid comes into my thoughts,- Tro. I was about to tell thee,-when my heart, But sorrow, that is couch'd in seeming gladness, Pan. An her hair were not somewhat darker than Helen's, (well, go to,) there were no more comparison between the women,-but, for my part, she is my kinswoman; I would not, as they term it, praise her,-bul I would somebody had heard her talk yesterday, as I did. I will not dispraise your sister Cassandra's wit but Tro. O Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus,- Her eyes, her hair, her cheeks, her gait, her voice; In whose comparison all whites are ink, The cygnet's down is harsh, and spirit of sense Thou lay'st in every gash that love hath given me Pan. I speak no more than truth. Tro. Thou dost not speak so much. Pan. 'Faith, I'll not meddle in 't Let her be as she is: if she be fair, 'tis the better for her; an she be not, she has the mends in her own hands. Tro. Good Pandarus! How now, Pandarus! Pan. I have had my labour for my travail; ill-thought on of her, and ill-thought on of you: gone between and between, but small thanks for my labour. Tro. What, art thou angry, Pandarus? what, with me? Pan. Because she is kin to me, therefore she's not so fair as Helen: an she were not kin to me, she would be as fair on Friday as Helen is on Sunday. But what care It I care not an she were a black-a-moor; 'tis all one to me. Tro. Say I she is not fair? Pan. I do not care whether you do or no. She's a fool to stay behind her father; let her to the Greeks; and so I'll tell her the next time I see her: for my part, I'll meddle nor make no more in the matter. Tro. Pandarus, - Pan. Not L. |