Lov. My lord, I love you:

And durft commend a fecret to your ear

Much weightier than this work. The Queen's in labour,
They fay, in great extremity; 'tis fear'd,
She'll with the labour end.

Gard. The fruit fhe goes with

I pray for heartily, that it may find

Good time, and live; but for the ftock, Sir Thomas,

I wish it grubb'd up now.

Lov. Methinks, I could

Cry the Amen; and yet my confcience says,
She's a good creature, and (fweet lady) does
Deferve our better wishes.

Gard. But, Sir, Sir

Hear me, Sir Thomas You're a gentleman
Of mine own way; I know you wife, religious;
And, let me tell you, it will ne'er be well,
'Twill not, Sir Thomas Lovel, take't of me,
'Till Cranmer, Cromwell, her two hands, and fhe,
Sleep in their graves.

Lov. Now, Sir, you speak of two

The most remark'd i'th' kingdom; as for Cromwell,
Befide that of the jewel-house, he's made master
O'th' Rolls, and the King's Secretary: Further,
Stands in the gap and trade for more preferments,
With which the time will load him. Th' Archbishop
Is the King's hand, and tongue; and who dare fpeak
One fyllable against him?

Gard. Yes, Sir Thomas,

There are that dare; and I my felf have ventur'd
To speak my mind of him; indeed, this day

(Sir, I may tell it you,) I think, I have

Incens'd the lords o' th' Council, that he is (For fo I know he is, they know he is)

A most arch-heretick, a peftilence

That does infect the land; with which they mov'd,
Have broken with the King; who hath fo far
Giv'n ear to our complaint, of his great Grace
And princely care, forefeeing those fell mischiefs.
Our reafons 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 muft root him out. From
From your affairs
I hinder you too long: good night, Sir Thomas.

[Exeunt Gardiner and page. Lov. Many good nights, my lord; I rest your fervant. [Ex. Lov.

SCENE changes to an Apartment in the Palace.

Enter King and Suffolk.

HARLES, I will play no more to night;

King. My mind's not on't, you are too hard for me. C

Suf. Sir, I did never win of you before.

King. But little, Charles;

Nor fhall not, when my fancy's on my play.

Re-enter Lovel.

Now, Lovel, from the Queen what is the news?
Lov. I could not perfonally deliver to her
What you commanded me, but by her woman
I fent your meffage; who return'd her thanks
In greatest humbleness, and begg'd your Highness
Moft heartily to pray for her.

King. What fay'st thou! ha!

To pray for her! what! is fhe crying out?

Lov. So faid her woman, and that her fuff'rance made

Almoft each pang a death.

King. Alas, good lady!

Suf. God fafely quit her of her burthen, and

With gentle travel, to the gladding of

Your Highness with an heir!

King. 'Tis midnight, Charles;

Pr'ythee, to bed; and in thy prayers remember
Th' eftate of my poor Queen. Leave me alone;
For I must think of that, which company

Would not be friendly to.

Suf. I wish your Highness

A

A quiet night, and my good miftrefs will

Remember in my prayers.

King, Charles, a good night:

Well, Sir, what follows?

Enter Sir Anthony Denny.

[Exit Suffolk.

Denny. Sir, I have brought my lord the Arch-bishop,

As you commanded me.

King. Ha! Canterbury !—

Denny. He attends your Highness' pleasure,

Lov. This is about that, which the Bishop spake;

Denny. Yea, my good lord.

King. 'Tis true

where is he, Denny?

King. Bring him to us.

[Exit Denny.

I am happily come hither.

[Afide.

King. Avoid the gallery.

[Lovel feemeth to stay.

[Exeunt Lovel and Denny.

All's not well.

Enter Cranmer and Denny.

Ha! I have faid be gone.

What !

Cran. I am fearful 'Tis his afpect of terror.

wherefore frowns he thus ?

King. How now, my lord? you do defire to know, Wherefore I fent for you.

Cran. It is my duty

T'attend your Highness' pleasure.

King. Pray you, rife;

My good and gracious lord of Canterbury:

Come, you and I muft walk a turn together:

I've news to tell you. Come, give me your hand.
Ah, my good lord, I grieve at what I fpeak;
And am right forry to repeat what follows.
I have, and moft unwillingly, of late
Heard many grievous, I do fay, my lord,

Grievous complaints of you; which being confider'd,
Have mov'd us and our Council, that you fhall
This morning come before us; where I know,
You cannot with fuch freedom purge your felf,

But that, till further tryal, 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 occafion
Moft throughly to be winnow'd, where my chaff
And corn fhall fly afunder. For, I know,
There's none ftands under more calumnious tongues
Than I my self, poor man.

King. Stand up, good Canterbury;

Thy truth and thy integrity is rooted

In us, thy friend. Give me thy hand, ftand up;
Pr'ythee, 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 ta'en fome pains to bring together.
Your felf and your accufers, and have heard you
Without indurance further.

Cran. Most dread Liege,

The good I ftand on is my truth and honesty :
If they fhall fall, I with mine enemies.

Will triumph o'er my perfon; which I weigh not,
Being of thofe virtues vacant. I fear nothing

What can be faid against me.

King. Know you not

How your ftate ftands i' th' world, with the whole world?

Your foes are many, and not fmall; their practices

Muft bear the fame proportion; and not ever

The juftice and the truth o'th' question carries
The due o' th' verdict with it. At what ease
Might corrupt minds procure knaves as corrupt
To fwear against you? fuch things have been done,
You're potently oppos'd; and with a malice
Of as great fize. Ween you of better luck,
I mean, in perjur'd witness, than your mafter,
Whose minifter you are, while here he liv'd
Upon this naughty earth? go to, go to,

You

You take a precipice for no leap of danger,
And woo your own deftruction.

Gran. God and your Majefty

Protect mine innocence, or I fall into
The trap is laid for me!

King. Be of good cheer;

They shall no more prevail, than we give way to:
Keep comfort to you, and this morning fee
You do appear before them. If they chance,
In charging you with matters, to commit you;
The best perfuafions to the contrary

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 He's honeft, on mine honour. God's bleft mother!

I fwear, he is true-hearted; and a foul

None better in my kingdom. Get you gone,

And do as I have bid you.

H'as ftrangled all his language in his tears.

Enter an old Lady.

[Exit Cranmer.

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 fhade thy person
Under their bleffed wings!

King. Now, by thy looks

I guess thy meffage.

Say, ay; and of a boy.

Is the Queen deliver❜d?

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 vifitation; and to be

Acquainted with this ftranger; 'tis as like you,
As cherry is to cherry.

King. Lovell,

Lov. Sir.