Act V, Scene i
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| | London. A gallery in the palace | |
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| | Enter GARDINER, BISHOP OF WINCHESTER, a PAGE with a torch before | |
| | him, met by SIR THOMAS LOVELL | |
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| GARDINER. It's one o'clock, boy, is't not? | |
| BOY. It hath struck. | |
| GARDINER. These should be hours for necessities, | |
| Not for delights; times to repair our nature | |
| With comforting repose, and not for us | |
| To waste these times. Good hour of night, Sir Thomas! | |
| Whither so late? | |
| LOVELL. Came you from the King, my lord? | |
| GARDINER. I did, Sir Thomas, and left him at primero | |
| With the Duke of Suffolk. | |
| LOVELL. I must to him too, | |
| Before he go to bed. I'll take my leave. | |
| GARDINER. Not yet, Sir Thomas Lovell. What's the matter? | |
| It seems you are in haste. An if there be | |
| No 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 | |
| That seeks despatch by day. | |
| LOVELL. 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'd | |
| She'll with the labour end. | |
| GARDINER. 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. | |
| LOVELL. Methinks I could | |
| Cry thee amen; and yet my conscience says | |
| She's a good creature, and, sweet lady, does | |
| Deserve our better wishes. | |
| GARDINER. But, sir, sir— | |
| Hear me, Sir Thomas. Y'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 Lovell, take't of me— | |
| Till Cranmer, Cromwell, her two hands, and she, | |
| Sleep in their graves. | |
| LOVELL. Now, sir, you speak of two | |
| The most remark'd i' th' kingdom. As for Cromwell, | |
| Beside that of the Jewel House, is made Master | |
| O' th' Rolls, and the King's secretary; further, sir, | |
| Stands in the gap and trade of moe preferments, | |
| With which the time will load him. Th' Archbishop | |
| Is the King's hand and tongue, and who dare speak | |
| One syllable against him? | |
| GARDINER. Yes, yes, Sir Thomas, | |
| There are that dare; and I myself have ventur'd | |
| 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' th' Council, that he is— | |
| For so I know he is, they know he is— | |
| A most arch heretic, 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—hath commanded | |
| To-morrow morning to the Council board | |
| He be convented. He's a rank weed, Sir Thomas, | |
| And we must root him out. From your affairs | |
| I hinder you too long—good night, Sir Thomas. | |
| LOVELL. Many good nights, my lord; I rest your servant. | |
| Exeunt GARDINER and PAGE | |
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| Enter the KING and the DUKE OF SUFFOLK | |
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| KING. Charles, I will play no more to-night; | |
| My mind's not on't; you are too hard for me. | |
| SUFFOLK. Sir, I did never win of you before. | |
| KING. But little, Charles; | |
| Nor shall not, when my fancy's on my play. | |
| Now, Lovell, from the Queen what is the news? | |
| LOVELL. 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 great'st humbleness, and desir'd your Highness | |
| Most heartily to pray for her. | |
| KING. What say'st thou, ha? | |
| To pray for her? What, is she crying out? | |
| LOVELL. So said her woman; and that her suff'rance made | |
| Almost each pang a death. | |
| KING. Alas, good lady! | |
| SUFFOLK. God safely quit her of her burden, and | |
| With gentle travail, to the gladding of | |
| Your Highness with an heir! | |
| KING. 'Tis midnight, Charles; | |
| Prithee to bed; and in thy pray'rs remember | |
| Th' estate of my poor queen. Leave me alone, | |
| For I must think of that which company | |
| Will not be friendly to. | |
| SUFFOLK. I wish your Highness | |
| A quiet night, and my good mistress will | |
| Remember in my prayers. | |
| KING. Charles, good night. Exit SUFFOLK | |
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| Enter SIR ANTHONY DENNY | |
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| Well, sir, what follows? | |
| DENNY. Sir, I have brought my lord the Archbishop, | |
| As you commanded me. | |
| KING. Ha! Canterbury? | |
| DENNY. Ay, my good lord. | |
| KING. 'Tis true. Where is he, Denny? | |
| DENNY. He attends your Highness' pleasure. | |
| KING. Bring him to us. Exit DENNY | |
| LOVELL.[Aside]This is about that which the bishop spake. | |
| I am happily come hither. | |
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| Re-enter DENNY, With CRANMER | |
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| KING. Avoid the gallery.[LOVELL seems to stay] | |
| Ha! I have said. Be gone. | |
| What! Exeunt LOVELL and DENNY | |
| CRANMER.[Aside]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. | |
| CRANMER.[Kneeling]It is my duty | |
| T'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 | |
| Your patience to you and be well contented | |
| To make your house our Tow'r. You a brother of us, | |
| It fits we thus proceed, or else no witness | |
| Would come against you. | |
| CRANMER. I humbly thank your Highness | |
| And am right glad to catch this good occasion | |
| Most throughly to be winnowed 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; | |
| Prithee let's walk. Now, by my holidame, | |
| What manner of man are you? My lord, I look'd | |
| You would have given me your petition that | |
| I should have ta'en some pains to bring together | |
| Yourself and your accusers, and to have heard you | |
| Without indurance further. | |
| CRANMER. 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' th' world, with the whole world? | |
| Your enemies are many, and not small; their practices | |
| Must bear the same proportion; and not ever | |
| The justice 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 swear against you? Such things have been done. | |
| You are potently oppos'd, and with a malice | |
| Of as great size. Ween you of better luck, | |
| I mean in perjur'd witness, than your Master, | |
| Whose minister you are, whiles here He liv'd | |
| Upon this naughty earth? Go to, go to; | |
| You take a precipice for no leap of danger, | |
| And woo your own destruction. | |
| CRANMER. God and your Majesty | |
| 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 see | |
| You do appear before them; if they shall chance, | |
| In charging you with matters, to commit you, | |
| The best persuasions to the contrary | |
| Fail not to use, and with what vehemency | |
| Th' occasion shall instruct you. If entreaties | |
| 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 honest, on mine honour. God's blest Mother! | |
| I swear he is true-hearted, and a soul | |
| 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. | |
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| Enter OLD LADY | |
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| GENTLEMAN.[Within]Come back; what mean you? | |
| OLD 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! | |
| KING. Now, by thy looks | |
| I guess thy message. Is the Queen deliver'd? | |
| Say ay, and of a boy. | |
| OLD LADY. Ay, ay, my liege; | |
| And of a lovely boy. The God of Heaven | |
| Both now and ever bless her! 'Tis a girl, | |
| Promises boys hereafter. Sir, your queen | |
| Desires your visitation, and to be | |
| Acquainted with this stranger; 'tis as like you | |
| As cherry is to cherry. | |
| KING. Lovell! | |
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| Enter LOVELL | |
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| LOVELL. Sir? | |
| KING. Give her an hundred marks. I'll to the Queen. | |
| | Exit | |
| OLD LADY. An hundred marks? By this light, I'll ha' more! | |
| An ordinary groom is for such payment. | |
| I will have more, or scold it out of him. | |
| Said I for this the girl was like to him! I'll | |
| Have more, or else unsay't; and now, while 'tis hot, | |
| I'll put it to the issue. | |
| | Exeunt | |
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