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
(As, they say, spirits do,) at midnight, have
In them a wilder nature, than the business
That seeks despatch by day.

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
She's a good creature, and, sweet lady, does
Deserve our better wishes.

Gar. But, sir, sir,—

Hear me, sir Thomas: You 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.

Lov. Now, sir, you speak of two

The most remark'd i'the kingdom. As for Cromwell,—
Beside that of the jewel-house, he's made master
O'the rolls, and the king's secretary; further, sir,
Stands in the gap and trade of more 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?

Gar. 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'the council, that he is
(For So I know he is, they know he is,)
A most arch heretick, a pestilence,
That

they moved,

Have broken with the king; who hath so far
Given ear to our complaint, (of his great grace
A princely care; foreseeing those fell mischiefs
Our reasons laid before him,) he 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.
Lov. Many good nights, my lord; I rest your ser-
[Exeunt GARDINER and Page.

vant.

As LOVELL is going out, enter the King and the Duke of

SUFFOLK.

K. Hen. Charles, I will play no more to-night;
My mind's not on't, you are too hard for me.
Suf. Sir, I did never win of you before.
K. Hen. But little, Charles;

Nor shall not, when my fancy's on my play.—
Now, Lovell, from the queen what is the news?
Lov. 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 greatest humbleness, and desir'd your highness
Most heartily to pray for her.

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
With gentle travail, to the gladding of
Your highness with an heir!

K. Hen. 'Tis midnight, Charles;

Pry'thee, to bed; and in thy prayers remember
The estate of my poor queen. Leave me alone;
For I must think of that, which company
Will not be friendly to.

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?
Den. He attends your highness' pleasure.

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,
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 Tower: You a brother of us,
It fits we thus proceed, or else no witness
Would come against you.

Cran. 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,