His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him; Than man could give him, he died, fearing God Sad and solemn Music. Grif. She is asleep. Good wench, let's sit down quiet, For fear we wake her ;-Softly, gentle Patience. The Vision. Enter, solemnly tripping one after another, six Personages, clad in white robes, wearing on their heads garlands of bays and golden vizards on their faces: branches of bays or palm in their hands. They first congee unto her, then dance; and, at certain changes, the first two hold a spare garland over her head; at which, the other four make reverend court'sies; then the two that held the garland, deliver the same to the other next two, who observe the same order in their changes, and holding the garland over her head; which done, they deliver the same garland to the last two, who likewise observe the same order: at which, (as it were by inspiration,) she makes in her sleep signs of rejoicing, and holdeth up her hands to heaven: and so in their dancing they vanish, carrying the garland with them. The music continues. Kath. Spirits of peace, where are ye? Are ye all gone? None, madam. And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye? And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel Re-enter GRIFFITH with CAPUCIUS. If my sight fail not, You should be lord ambassador from the emperor, 'Tis like a pardon after execution: That gentle physic, given in time, had cured me ; But now I am past all comforts here, but prayers. How does his highness? Сар. Madam, in good health. Kath. So may he ever do! and ever flourish, When I shall dwell with worms, and my poor name Banish'd the kingdom!-Patience, is that letter I caus'd you write, yet sent away? Pat. ness No, madam. A right good husband, let him be a noble; them. The last is, for my men:-they are the poorest, Grif. I am most joyful, madam, such good And something over to remember me by; dreams Possess your fancy. Bid the music leave, Kath. They are harsh and heavy to me. [Music ceases. Pat. Do you note, How much her grace is alter'd on the sudden? How long her face is drawn? How pale she looks, And of an earthy cold? Mark you her eyes? Grif. She is going, wench; pray, pray. Pat. Heaven comfort her? Enter a Messenger. Mess. An't like your grace,Kath. You are a saucy fellow: Deserve we no more reverence? Grif You are to blame, Knowing, she will not lose her wonted greatness, To use so rude behaviour: go to, kneel. Mess. I humbly do entreat your highness' pardon: My haste made me unmannerly: There is staying A gentleman, sent from the king, to see you. Kath. Admit him entrance, Griffith: But this fellow Let me ne'er see again. [Exeunt GRIFFITH and Messenger. If heaven had pleas'd to have given me longer life, By that you love the dearest in this world, Kath. I thank you, honest lord. Remember me Lov. Lov. Gar. Not yet, sir Thomas Lovell. What's the matter? It seems, you are in haste: an if there be (As, they say spirits do) at midnight, have Lov. They say, in great extremity; and fear'd, 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. But, sir, sir, Gar. 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' hand, and tongue; And who dare speak One syllable against him? 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. Nor shall not, when my fancy's on my play.- ness 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, Pr'ythee, 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. K. Hen. Pray you, arise, My good and gracious lord of Canterbury. Ah, my good lord, I grieve at what I speak, This morning come before us; where, I know, Cran. us,8 And am right glad to catch this good occasion A game at cards. • Set on. •Told their minds to. Than I myself, poor man. Summoned. • One of the council. Are many, and not small; their practices Cran. God, and your majesty, Protect mine innocence, or I fall into The trap is laid for me! Be of good cheer; K. Hen. 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 honor. God's blest mother! His language in his tears. Enter an old Lady. That was sent to me from the council, pray'd me, Who waits there?-Sure you know me? But yet I cannot help you. Why? Yes, my lord; D. Keep. Your grace must wait till you be call'd Cran. for. Enter DOCTOR BUTTS. So. Butts. This is a piece of malice; I am glad [Exit BUTTS. 'Tis Butts, The king's physician: As he past along, How earnestly he cast his eyes upon me! Pray heaven, he sound not my disgrace! For certain, This is of purpose lay'd, by some that hate me, (God turn their hearts! I never sought their malice,) To quench mine honor: they would shame tó make me Wait else at door; a fellow-counsellor, Among 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. K. Hen. Body o' me, where is it? Butts. There, my lord' The high promotion of his grace of Canterbury; Who holds his state at door, 'mongst pursuivants, Pages, and footboys. K. Hen. Ha! 'Tis he, indeed: Is this the honor they do one another? To dance attendance on their lordship's pleasures, The Council-Chamber. [Exeunt. Enter the Lord Chancellor, the DUKES OF SUFFOLK and NORFOLK, EARL OF SURREY, Lord Chamberlain, GARDINER, and CROMWELL. The Chancellor places himself at the upper end of the Table, on the left hand; a Seat being left void above him, as for the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY. The rest seat themselves in order on each side. CROMWELL at the lower end as SecretaryChan. Speak to the business, master secretary = Why are we met in council? Crom. Please your honors, The chief cause concerns his grace of Canterbury. Gar. Has he had knowledge of it? Crom. Nor. Yes. Who waits there? Yes. D. Keep. Without, my noble lords? Gar. D. Keep. My lord archbishop; And has done half an hour, to know your pleasures. Chan. Let him come in.' D. Keep. Your grace may enter now [CRANMER approaches the Council-Table. Chan. My good lord archbishop, I am very sorry To sit here at this present, and behold That chair stand empty: But we all are men, In our own natures frail; out of which frailty, And want of wisdom, you, that best should teach us, Have misdemean'd yourself, and not a little, Toward the king first, then his laws, in filling The whole realm, by your teaching, and your chaplains, (For so we are inform d,) with new opinions, Divers and dangerous, which are heresies, And, not reform'd, may prove pernicious. Gar. Which reformation must be sudden too, My noble lords: for those that tame wild horses, Pace them not in their hands to make them gentle But stop their mouths with stubborn bits, and spur them, Till they obey the manage. If we suffer Of the whole state: as, of late days, our neighbors, Cran. My good lords, hitherto, in all the progress 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, We will be short with you. "Tis his highness' pleasure, And our consent, for better trial of you, Cran.Ah, my good lord of Winchester, I thank you, Gar. Good master secretary, I cry your honor mercy; you may, worst Of all this table, say so. Crom. Why, my lord? Gar. Do not I know you for a favorer Of this new sect? Ye are not sound. Crom. Not sound? Remember your bold life too. Forbear, for shame, my lords. Crom. This is too much; I have done. Do. And I. Chan. Then thus for you, my lord,-It stands agreed, I take it, by all voices, that forthwith Would you expect? You are strangely troublesome! In daily thanks, that gave us such a prince; Bishop of Winchester. But know, I come not He, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee: K. Hen. No, sir, it does not please me. I had thought I had had men of some understanding And wisdom, of my council; but I find none. sion Bid ye so far forget yourselves! I gave ye Chan. Thus far My most dread sovereign, may it like your grace, To let my tongue excuse all. What was purpos'd Concerning his imprisonment, was rather (If there be faith in men) meant for his trial, And fair purgation to the world, than malice, I am sure, in me. K. Hen. Well, well, my lords, respect him; Am, for his love and service, so to him. I have a suit which you must not deny me; 1 It was an ancient custom for sponsors to present spoons to their god-children. draw mine honor in, and let them win the work. The devil was amongst them, I think, surely. Port. These are the youths that thunder at a play-house, and fight for bitten apples; that no audience, but the Tribulation of Tower-hill, or the Limbs of Limehouse, their dear brothers, are able to endure. I have some of them in Limbo Patrum,' and there they are like to dance these three days; besides the running banquet of two beadles, that K. Hen. Good man, those joyful tears show thy is to come. true heart. The common voice, I see, is verified Of thee, which says thus, Do my lord of Canter- A shrewd turn, and he is your friend for ever.— Man. [Exeunt. SCENE III.-The Palace Yard. Noise and Tumult within. Enter Porter and his Port. You'll leave your noise anon, ye rascals: Do you take the court for Paris-garden ?2 ye rude slaves, leave your gaping.3 [Within.] Good master porter, I belong to the larder. Port. Belong to the gallows, and be hanged, you rogue: Is this the place to roar in ?-Fetch me a dozen crab-tree staves, and strong ones; these are but switches to them.-I'll scratch your heads: You must be seeing christenings? Do you look for ale and Cake here, you rude rascals? Man. Pray, sir, be patient; 'tis as much impos sible (Unless we sweep them from the door with cannons) To scatter them, as 'tis to make them sleep Port. You did nothing, sir. Man. I am not Samson, nor sir Guy, nor Colbrand, to mow them down before me: but, if I spared any, that had a head to hit, either young or old, he or she, cuckold or cuckold-maker, let me never hope to see a chine again; and that I would not for a cow, God save her. [Within.] Do you hear, master porter? Port. I shall be with you presently, good master puppy. Keep the door close, sirrah. Man. What would you have me do? Port. What should you do but knock them down by the dozens? Is this Moorfields to muster in? or have we some strange Indian with the great tool come to court, the women so besiege us? Bless me, what a fry of fornication is at door! On my Christian conscience, this one christening will beget a thousand; here will be father, godfather, and all together. Man. The spoons will be the bigger, sir. There is a fellow somewhat near the door, he should be a brazier by his face, for, o' my conscience, twenty of the dog-days now reign in's nose; all that stand about him are under the line, they need no other penance: That fire-drake did I hit three times on the head, and three times was his nose discharged against me; he stands there, like a mortar-piece, to blow us. There was a haberdasher's wife of small wit near him that railed upon me till her pink'd porringer fell off her head, for kindling such a combustion in the state. I miss'd the meteor once, and hit that woman, who cried out, clubs! when I might see from far some forty truncheoneers draw to her succor, which were the hope of the Strand, where she was quartered. They fell on; I made good my place; at length they came to the broomstaff with me, I defied them still; when sundenly a file of boys behind them, loose shot, delivered such a shower of pebbles, that I was fain to The bear garden on the Bank-side. • Roaring. Guy of Warwick, nor Colbrand the Danish giant." • Pink'd cap. The brazier. Enter the Lord Chamberlain. Cham. Mercy o' me, what a multitude are here. They grows still too, from all parts they are com ing, As if we kept a fair here! Where are these porters, These lazy 'knaves?-Ye have made a fine hand, fellows, There's a trim rabble let in: Are all these Your faithful friends o' the suburbs? We shall have As I live, A Marshalsea, shall hold you play these two months. I'll Port. You i' the camblet, get up o' the rail; I'll pick you o'er the pales else. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-The Palace.2 Enter Trumpets, sounding; then two Aldermen, Lord Mayor, Garter, CRANMER, DUKE OF NOR FOLK, with his Marshal's Staff, DUKE OF SUF FOLK, two Noblemen bearing great standing Bowls for the Christening Gifts; then four Noblemen, bearing a Canopy, under which the DUCHESS OF NORFOLK, Godmother, bearing Child richly habited in a Mantle, &c., Train borne by a Lady, then follows the MARCHION OF DORSET, the other Godmother, and Ladies. The Troop pass once about the Stage, and Garter speaks. ESS the Gart. Heaven, from thy endless goodness, send, prosperous life, long, and ever happy, to the high and mighty princess of England, Elizabeth. Flourish. Enter KING and Train. Cran. [Kneeling.] And to your royal grace, and the good queen, My noble partners, and myself, thus pray:- K. Hen. Thank you, good lord archbishop; |