SceneI

5 0 00

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.

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 dispatch 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 the 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: 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.

Lovell

Now, sir, you speak of two

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,

Stands in the gap and trade of moe 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?

Gardiner

Yes, yes, Sir Thomas,

There are that dare; and I myself have ventured

To speak my mind of him: and indeed this day,

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

Incensed the lords o’ the 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.

Enter the King and Suffolk.

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 desired 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 sufferance made

Almost each pang a death.

King

Alas, good lady!

Suffolk

God safely quit her of her burthen, and

With gentle travail, to the gladding of

Your highness with an heir!

King

’Tis midnight, Charles;

Prithee, 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.

Suffolk

I wish your highness

A quiet night; and my good mistress will

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

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.

Reenter Denny, with Cranmer.

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 desire to know

Wherefore I sent for you.

Cranmer

Kneeling. It is my duty

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 moved 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 Tower: you a brother of us,

It fits we thus proceed, or else no witness

Would come against you.

Cranmer

Kneeling. I humbly thank your highness;

And am right glad to catch this good occasion

Most throughly 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:

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’ the 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’ the question carries

The due o’ the 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 opposed; and with a malice

Of as great size. Ween you of better luck,

I mean, in perjured witness, than your master,

Whose minister you are, whiles here he lived

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

The 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.

Enter Old Lady, Lovell following.

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!

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 will have more, or else unsay’t; and now,

While it is hot, I’ll put it to the issue. Exeunt.