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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'a, She'll with the labour end.

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

Gard. But, sir, sir Hear me, Sir Thomas : You are a gentleman Of mine own way; I know you wise, 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 she, Sleep in their graves.

Lov. Now, sir, you speak of two The most remark'd i' the kingdom. As for Crom.

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?



Gard. Yes, yes, Sir Thomas,
There are that dare; and I myself have ventura
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 heretick, 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 60
He be convented. He's a rank weed, Sir Thomas,
And we must root him out.. From


affairs I hinder you too long: good night, Sir Thomas. Lov. Many good nights, my lord; I rest your ser

vant. [Exeunt GARDINER, and Page. As Lovel is going out, enter the King, and the Duke of

King. 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.

King. But little, Charles; Nor shall not, when my fancy's on my playNow, Lovel, from the queen what is the news ? 70

Lov. I could not personally deliver to her What

you commanded me, but by her woman I sent your message ; who return’d her thanks

In the greatest humbleness, and desir'd your hignness Most heartily to pray for her.

King. What say'st thou ; ha! То

pray for her ? what, is she crying out? Lov. So said her woman; and that her sufferance

made Almost each pang a death. King. Alas, good lady!

Suf. God safely quit her of her burden, 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
The estate 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 quiet night, and my good mistress will go
Remember in my prayers.

King. Charles, good night.- [Exit SUFFOLK.

Enter Sir ANTHONY Denny.

Well, sir, what follows ?

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

King. Hal Canterbury?
Denny. Ay, my good lord.
King. 'Tis true: Where is he, Denny ?
Denny. He attends your higliness' pleasure. 99
King. Bring him to us.

[Exit Denny


Lou. This is about that which the bishop spake ; I am happily come hither.

[ Aside. Re-enter DENNY, with CRANMER. King. Avoid the gallery. (LoveL seemeth to stay. Ha!-I have said.-Be gone. What!

[Exeunt Lovel, and Denny. Cran. I am fearful :- Wherefore frowns he thus ? 'Tis his aspect of terror. All's not well.

King. How now, my lord? You do desire to know Wherefore I sent for you. Cran. It is my duty

110 To attend your highness' pleasure.

King. 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 most unwillingly, of late Heard many grievous, I do say, my lord, Grievous complaints of you; which, being consider'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 i Your patience to you, and be well contented


To make your house our Tower : You a brother of

It fits we thus proceed, or else to witness
Would come against you.

Cran. I humbly thank your highness; 130
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.

King. Stand up, good Canterbury;
Thy truth, and thy integrity, is rooted
In us, thy friend : Give me thy hand, stand 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 141
I should have ta'en some pains to bring together
Yourself and your accusers; and to have heard you,
Without indurance, 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.

King. Know you not
How your state stands i' the world, with the whole

world? Your enemies are many, and not small; their prac. tices



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