3

Is the Queen deliver'd?

I guess thy meffage.
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 blefs her?-'tis a girl,
Promises boys hereafter. Sir, your Queen
Defires 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, I'll ha' more.
An ordinary groom is for fuch 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 else unfay'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

man,

That was fent to me from the council, pray'd me
To make great hafte. All faft? what means this? hoa?
Who waits there? fure you know me ?

Enter Door-keeper.

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

Cran. Why?

D. Keep. Your Grace muft 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 fo happily. The King
Shall understand it presently.

Cran. 'Tis Butts,

The King's phyfician. As he pafs'd along,
How earnestly he caft his eyes upon me!

Pray heav'n, he found not my difgrace! for certain,

[Exit Butts.

This is of purpose laid by fome 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 pleaMu 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 sight— King. What's that, Butts ?

Butts. I think your Highnefs faw this many a day. King. Body o' me where is it?

Butts. There, my Lord.

The high promotion of his Grace of Canterbury,
Who holds his ftate at door 'mongst purfuivants,
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 fo much honesty among 'em,
At least, good manners, as not thus to fuffer
A man of his place, and fo near our favour,
To dance attendance on their Lordship's pleasures
And at the door too, like a poft with packets.
By holy Mary, Butts, there's knavery;
Let 'em alone, and draw the curtain clofe,
We fhall hear more añon.

SCENE V The council.

A council-table brought in, with chairs and ftools, and placed under the ftate. Enter Lord Chancellor, places bimfelf 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, Surry, 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. Pleafe your Honours,

The caufe concerns his Grace of Canterbury..
Gard. Has he had knowledge of it?

Crome

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 pleafures. 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 prefent, and behold That chair ftand 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 beft fhould teach us, Have misdemean'd yourself, and not a little; Tow'rd the King firft, and then his laws, in filling The whole realm, by your teaching and your chaplains (For fo we are inform'd), with new opinions Divers and dangerous, which are herefies; And not reform'd, may prove pernicious.

Gard. Which reformation must be sudden too,
My noble Lords; for those that tame wild horfes,
Pace 'em not in their hands to make 'em gentle;
But stop their mouths with stubborn bits, and fpurem,
Till they obey the manage. If we suffer
(Out of our eafinefs 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 ftate: 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 progrefs Both of my life and office, I have labour'd (And with no little ftudy) that my teaching, And the ftrong courfe of my authority, Might go one way, and fafely; and the end Was ever to do well: nor is there living (I fpeak it with a fingle heart, my Lords) A man that more detefts, more stirs against, (Both in his private confcience and his place), Defacers of the public peace, than I do.

Pray

Pray Heav'n, the King may never find a heart
With lefs allegiance in it! men that make
Envy and crooked malice nourishment,
Dare bite the beft. I do befeech your Lordships,
That, in this cafe of justice, my accufers,

Be what they will, may ftand forth face to face,
And freely urge againit me.

Suf 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 bufinefs of more

moment,

We will be fhort wi' you. 'Tis his Highness' pleasure,
And our confent, for better trial of you,
From hence you be committed to the Tower;
Where being but a private man again,
You fhall know many dare accufe 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 pafs,
I fhall both find your Lordship judge and juror,
You are fo merciful. I fee your end,
'Tis my undoing. Love and meeknefs, Lord,
Become a churchman better than ambition:
Win ftraying fouls with modefty again,
Caft none away. That I fhall clear myself,
(Lay all the weight ye can upon my patience),
I make as little doubt, as you do confcience
In doing daily wrongs. I could fay more,
But rev'rence to your calling makes me modeft.

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 fhould find respect For what they have been. 'Tis a cruelty To load a falling man.

Gard Good Mr. Secretary,

I cry your Honour mercy; you may, worft
Of all this table fay fo.

Crom. Why, my Lord?

Gard. Do not I know you for a favourer

Of this new fect! ye are not found.
Crom. Not found?

Gard. Not found, I fay.

Crom. Would you were half so honest! Men's pray'rs then would feek you, not their fears. Gard. I fhall remember this bold language.

Crom. Do.

Remember your bold life too.
Cham. This is too much;
Forbear for fhame, my Lords.

Gard. I've done.

Crom. And I.

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

All. We are.

Cran. Is there no other way of mercy,

But I must needs to th' Tower, my Lords?
Gard. What other

Would you expect? you're strangely troublesome :
Let fome o' th' guard be ready there.

Enter Guard.

Cran. For me?

Muft I go like a traitor then?
Gard. Receive him,

And fee him fafe i' th' Tower.

Cran. Stay, good my Lords,

I have a little yet to fay. Look there, Lords;
By virtue of that ring, I take my cause
Out of the gripes of cruel men, and give it

To a moft noble judge, the King my matter.
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 firft put this dang'rous tone a-rowling, 'Twould fall upon ourselves.

Nor. D'you think, my Lords,

The King will fuffer but the little finger
Of this man to be vex'd?

Vot V.

G g

Chani.