That she should feel the smart of this? The cardinal Will have his will, and she must fall.

1 Gent.

We are too open here to argue this ;;
Let's think in private more.

'Tis woful.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. An Antechamber in the Palace.

Enter the Lord Chamberlain, reading a letter.

Cham. My lord,―The horses your lordship sent for, with all the care I had, I saw well chosen, ridden, and furnished. They were young and handsome; and of the best breed in the north. When they were ready to set out for London, a man of my lord cardinal's, by commission, and main power, took 'em from me; with this reason,-His master would be served before a subject, if not before the king; which stopped our mouths, sir.

I fear he will, indeed. Well, let him have them.
He will have all, I think.

Enter the Dukes of NORFOLK and SUFFOLK. Nor. Well met, my good lord chamberlain. Cham. Good day to both your graces.

Suf. How is the king employed?

Cham.

Full of sad thoughts and troubles.

Nor.

I left him private,

What's the cause?

Cham. It seems, the marriage with his brother's wife Has crept too near his conscience.

Suf.

Has crept too near another lady.
Nor.

No, his conscience

'Tis so;

This is the cardinal's doing, the king-cardinal.
That blind priest, like the eldest son of fortune,
Turns what he list. The king will know him one day.
Suf. Pray God, he do! he'll never know himself else.

Nor. How holily he works in all his business! And with what zeal! For, now he has cracked the

league

Between us and the emperor, the queen's great nephew,
He dives into the king's soul; and there scatters
Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience,
Fears, and despairs, and all these for his marriage.
And, out of all these to restore the king,
He counsels a divorce; a loss of her,
That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years
About his neck, yet never lost her lustre ;
Of her, that loves him with that excellence
That angels love good men with; even of her,
That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls,
Will bless the king. And is not this course pious?
Cham. Heaven keep me from such counsel! 'Tis
most true,

These news are every where; every tongue speaks them,
And every true heart weeps for't. All, that dare
Look into these affairs, see this main end,-

The French king's sister.' Heaven will one day open
The king's eyes, that so long have slept upon
This bold, bad man.

Suf.

And free us from his slavery.

Nor. We had need pray,

And heartily, for our deliverance;

Or this imperious man will work us all
From princes into pages. All men's honors
Lie in one lump before him, to be fashioned
Into what pitch he please.

Suf.
For me, my lords,
I love him not, nor fear him; there's my creed.
As I am made without him, so I'll stand,

If the king please; his curses and his blessings
Touch me alike; they are breath I not believe in.
I knew him, and I know him; so I leave him
To him, that made him proud, the pope.

1 It was the main end or object of Wolsey to bring about a marriage Letween Henry and the French king's sister, the duchess of Alençon.

Nor.

Let's in;

And, with some other business, put the king

From these sad thoughts, that work too much upon

him.

My lord, you'll bear us company?

Cham. Excuse me; The king hath sent me other-where; besides, You'll find a most unfit time to disturb him. Health to your lordships.

Nor.

Thanks, my good lord chamberlain.

[Exit Lord Chamberlain.

NORFOLK opens a folding-door.

The King is discov

ered sitting, and reading pensively.1

Suf. How sad he looks! sure, he is much afflicted.
K. Hen. Who is there? ha?

Nor.

'Pray God, he be not angry.

K. Hen. Who's there, I say? How dare you thrust

yourselves

Into my private meditations?

Who am I? ha?

Nor. A gracious king, that pardons all offences Malice ne'er meant; our breach of duty, this way,

Is business of estate; in which, we come

To know your royal pleasure.

K. Hen.

You are too bold.

Go to; I'll make ye know your times of business.
Is this an hour for temporal affairs? ha?—

Enter WOLSEY and CAMPeius.

Who's there? my good lord cardinal?-O, my Wolsey, The quiet of my wounded conscience,

1 The stage direction in the old copy is singular-" Exit lord chamberlain, and the king draws the curtain, and sits reading pensively."This was calculated for the state of the theatre in Shakspeare's time. When a person was to be discovered in a different apartment from that in which the original speakers in the scene are exhibited, the artless mode of that time was, to place such person in the back part of the stage, behind the curtains which were occasionally suspended across it. These the person who was to be discovered (as Henry in the present case), drew back just at the proper time.

Thou art a cure fit for a king.-You're welcome,

[To CAMPEIUS.

Most learned, reverend sir, into our kingdom;
Use us, and it.-My good lord, have great care
I be not found a talker.'

Wol.

[To WOLSEY.

Sir, you cannot.

I would your grace would give us but an hour

Of private conference.

K. Hen.

Nor. This priest has

Suf.

We are busy; go.

[To NORFOLK and SUFFOLK. no pride in him?

I would not be so sick,

place:

But this cannot continue.

Nor.

Not to speak of;

though, for his

I'll venture one have at him.3

Suf.

If it do,

I another.

Aside.

[Exeunt NORFOLK and SUFFOlk.

Wol. Your grace has given a precedent of wisdom Above all princes, in committing freely

Your scruple to the voice of Christendom.

Who can be angry now? what envy reach you?
The Spaniard, tied by blood and favor to her,
Must now confess, if they have any goodness,
The trial just and noble. All the clerks,

I mean, the learned ones, in Christian kingdoms,
Have their free voices; Rome, the nurse of judgment,
Invited by your noble self, hath sent

One general tongue unto us, this good man,
This just and learned priest, cardinal Campeius;
Whom, once more, I present unto your highness.

K. Hen. And, once more, in mine arms I bid him welcome,

And thank the holy conclave for their loves;
They have sent me such a man I would have wished for.

1 "That my professions of welcome be not found empty talk."

2 i. e. so sick as he is proud.

3 To have at any thing or person, meant to attack it, in ancient phraseology.

Cam. Your grace must needs deserve all strangers'

loves,

You are so noble. To your highness' hand

I tender my commission; by whose virtue,
(The court of Rome commanding,) you, my lord
Cardinal of York, are joined with me, their servant,
In the unpartial judging of this business.

K. Hen. Two equal men.

quainted

The queen

shall be ac

Forthwith for what you come.-Where's Gardiner ? Wol. I know your majesty has always loved her So dear in heart, not to deny her that

A woman of less place might ask by law

Scholars, allowed freely to argue for her.

K. Hen. Ay, and the best she shall have; and my

favor

To him that does best; God forbid else.

Cardinal,

[Exit WOLSEY.

Pr'ythee, call Gardiner to me, my new secretary;

I find him a fit fellow.

Re-enter WOLSEY, with GARDiner.

Wol. Give me your hand; much joy and favor to

you;

You are the king's now.

Gard.

But to be commanded

Forever by your grace, whose hand has raised me.

K. Hen. Come hither, Gardiner.

[Aside.

[They converse apart. Cam. My lord of York, was not one doctor Pace

In this man's place before him?

Wol.

Yes, he was.

Yes, surely.

Cam. Was he not held a learned man?
Wol.

Cam. Believe me, there's an ill opinion spread then Even of yourself, lord cardinal.

How! of me?

Wol. Cam. They will not stick to say, you envied him; And, fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous,