KING HENRY VIII. 251 ACT V. SCENE I.—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? 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, Before he go to bed. I'll take my leave. It Gar. Not yet, sir Thomas Lovell. What's the mat ter? 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 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'd, She'll with the labour end. Gar. 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 Gar. But, sir, sir,— Hear me, sir Thomas: You are a gentleman Lov. Now, sir, you speak of two The most remark'd i'the kingdom. As for Cromwell,— Gar. Yes, yes, sir Thomas, There are, that dare; and I myself have ventur'd Sir, (I may tell it you,) I think, I have Incens'd the lords o'the council, that he is they moved, Have broken with the king; who hath so far He be convented. He's a rank weed, sir Thomas, vant. As LOVELL is going out, enter the King and the Duke of SUFFOLK. K. Hen. Charles, I will play no more to-night; Nor shall not, when my fancy's on my play.— K. Hen. What say'st thou? ha! To pray for her? what, is she crying out? Lov. So said her woman; and that her sufferance made Almost each pang a death. K. Hen. Alas, good lady! Suf. God safely quit her of her burden, and K. Hen. 'Tis midnight, Charles; Pry'thee, to bed; and in thy prayers remember Suf. I wish your highness A quiet night, and my good mistress will Remember in my prayers. K. Hen. Charles, good night. [Exit SUFFOLK. Enter Sir ANTHONY DENNY. Well, sir, what follows? Den. Sir, I have brought my lord the archbishop, As you commanded me. K. Hen. Ha! Canterbury? Den. Ay, my good lord. K. Hen. 'Tis true: Where is he, Denny? K. Hen. Bring him to us. [Exit DENNY. Lov. This is about that which the bishop spake ; I am happily come hither. Re-enter DENNY, with CRANMER. [Aside. K. Hen. Avoid the gallery. [LOVELL seems to stay. Ha!-I have said.-Be gone. What! [Exeunt LovELL and DENNY. Cran. I am fearful :-Wherefore frowns he thus ? "Tis his K. aspéct of terror. All's not well. How now, my lord? You do desire to Hen. How know Wherefore I sent for you. Cran. It is my duty To attend your highness' pleasure. K. Hen. '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, Grievous complaints of you; which, being consider'd, Cran. I humbly thank your highness; And am right glad to catch this good occasion There's none stands under more calumnious tongues, |