ACT V.

The model of our chaste loves, his young

daughter:

The dews of heaven fall thick in blessings on her!

Beseeching him to give her virtuous breeding,—
She is young, and of a noble modest nature, 136
I hope she will deserve well,-and a little
To love her for her mother's sake, that lov'd
him,

Heaven knows how dearly. My next poor petition

141

Is, that his noble Grace would have some pity
Upon my wretched women, that so long
Have follow'd both my fortunes faithfully:
Of which there is not one, I dare avow,-
And now I should not lie,-but will deserve, 144
For virtue, and true beauty of the soul,
For honesty and decent carriage,

A right good husband, let him be a noble;
And, sure, those men are happy that shall have
'em.
148

The last is, for my men: they are the poorest, But poverty could never draw 'em from me; That they may have their wages duly paid 'em,

And something over to remember me by:

152

If heaven had pleas'd to have given me longer life

And able means, we had not parted thus. These are the whole contents: and, good my lord,

By that you love the dearest in this world, 156
As you wish Christian peace to souls departed,
Stand these poor people's friend, and urge the
king

To do me this last right.
Cap.

By heaven, I will,
Or let me lose the fashion of a man!
160
Kath. I thank you, honest lord. Remember

SCENE I.-London. A Gallery in the Palace.
Enter GARDINER, Bishop of Winchester, a Page
with a torch before him, met by SIR THOMAS
LOVELL.

Gar. It's one o'clock, boy, is 't not?
Boy.

It hath struck.
Gar. 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?

4

Lov. Came you from the king, my lord? Gar. I did, Sir Thomas; and left him at primero

With the Duke of Suffolk.

Lov.
I must to him too, 8
Before he go to bed. I'll take my leave.
Gar. 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 dispatch by day.

Lov.

13

My lord, I love you, 16
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.
Gar.

The fruit she goes with 20
I pray for heartily, that it may find
Good time, and live: but for the stock, Sir
Thomas,

24

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.
Gar.
But, sir, sir,
Hear me, Sir Thomas: you're 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.

29

Lov. Now, sir, you speak of two 32 The most remark'd i' the kingdom. As for Cromwell,

Beside that of the jewel-house, is made master O' the rolls, and the king's secretary; further, sir,

16

Wait else at door, a fellow-counsellor,
'Mong boys, grooms, and lackeys. But their
pleasures

Must be fulfill'd, and I attend with patience.
Enter, at a window above, the KING and BUTTS.
Butts. I'll show your Grace the strangest
sight,
K. Hen.

What's that, Butts? Butts. I think your highness saw this many a day. 20 There, my lord, The high promotion of his Grace of Canterbury;

K. Hen. Body o' me, where is it?
Butts.

Who holds his state at door, 'mongst pursuivants,

Pages, and footboys.

K. Hen.

24

Ha! 'Tis he, indeed: Is this the honour they do one another? 'Tis well there's one above 'em yet. I had thought

They had parted so much honesty among 'em,-
At least, good manners,-
-as not thus to suffer 28
A man of his place, and so near our favour,
To dance attendance on their lordships' plea-
sures,

And at the door too, like a post with packets.
By holy Mary, Butts, there's knavery: 32
Let 'em alone, and draw the curtain close;
We shall hear more anon.
[Exeunt above.

SCENE III.-The Council-Chamber. Enter the Lord Chancellor, the DUKE OF SUFFOLK, the DUKE OF NORFOLK, EARL OF SURREY, Lord Chamberlain, GARDINER, and CROM

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. Gar. Has he had knowledge of it?

Crom.

Nor.

Keep. Without, my noble lords?

Gar.

Keep.

Yes.

Who waits there? 4

Yes.

My lord archbishop:

And has done half-an-hour, to know your

pleasures.

And the strong course of my authority
Might go one way, and safely; and the end 36
Was ever, to do well: nor is there living,—
I speak it with a single heart, my lords,—
A man that more detests, more stirs against,
Both in his private conscience and his place, 40
Defacers of a public peace, than I do.
Pray heaven the king may never find a heart
With less allegiance in it! Men, that make
Envy and crooked malice nourishment
Dare bite the best. I do beseech your lordships
That, in this case of justice, my accusers,
Be what they will, may stand forth face to face,
And freely urge against me.
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,

44

48

We will be short with you. 'Tis his highness' pleasure,

52

Cran. Ah! my good Lord of Winchester, I thank you;

61

64

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;
'Tis my undoing: love and meekness, lord,
Become a churchman better than ambition:
Win straying souls with modesty again,
Cast none away. That I shall clear myself,
Lay all the weight ye can upon my patience,
I make as little doubt, as you do conscience,
In doing daily wrongs. I could say more,
But reverence to your calling makes me modest.
Gar. My lord, my lord, you are a sectary;
That's the plain truth: your painted gloss dis-

covers,

68

I take it, by all voices, that forthwith
You be convey'd to the Tower a prisoner;
There to remain till the king's further pleasure
Be known unto us. Are you all agreed, lords?
All. We are.
Cran. Is there no other way of mercy,
But I must needs to the Tower, my lords?
Gar.

What other 93 Would you expect? You are strangely trouble

some.

Let some o' the guard be ready there. Enter Guard.

Cran.

Must I go like a traitor thither? Gar.

And see him safe i' the Tower.

Cran.

For me?

Receive him, 96

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 100
To a most noble judge, the king my master.
Chan. This is the king's ring.
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, 105
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?
Would I were fairly out on't.
Crom.

My mind gave me, 109 In seeking tales and informations Against this man-whose honesty the devil And his disciples only envy at

112

Ye blew the fire that burns ye: now have at ye! Enter the KING, frowning on them: he takes

his seat.

Gar. Dread sovereign, how much are we bound to heaven

In daily thanks, that gave us such a prince; Not only good and wise, but most religious: 116