Is the king's hand, and tongue; And who dare speak Gar. That does infect the land: with which they moved, 2 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 servant. [Exeunt GARDINER and Page. As LOVELL is going out, enter the King, and the Duke of SUFFOLK. K. Hen. Charles, I will play no more to-night; K. Hen. But little, Charles; Nor shall not, when my fancy's on my play. Incens'd the lords o'the council, that he is, &c. A most arch heretick,] This passage, according to the old elliptical mode of writing, may mean -I have incens'd the lords of the council, for that he is, i. e. because. 1 broken with the king;] They have broken silence: told their minds to the king. • He be convented.] Convented is summoned, convened. 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! 'Tis midnight, Charles, K. Hen. Will not be friendly to.† Suf. A quiet night, and my good mistress will I wish your highness Remember in my prayers. K. Hen. Enter Sir ANTHONY DENNY. Well, sir, what follows? Den. Sir, I have brought my lord the archbishop, As you commanded me. K. Hen. Den. Ay, my good lord. K. Hen. Ha! Canterbury? 'Tis true: Where is he, Denny? Bring him to us. [Exit DENNY. Den. He attends your highness' pleasure. K. Hen. Lov. This is about that which the bishop spake ; I am happily come hither. [Aside. + "Would not," &c. - MALONE. What! Cran. I am fearful: 'Tis his aspect of terror. [Exeunt LOVELL and DENNY. Wherefore frowns he thus? All's not well. K. Hen. How now, my lord? You do desire to know Wherefore I sent for you. Cran. It is my duty, 'Pray you, arise, To attend your highness' pleasure. K. Hen. 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: Heard many grievous, I do say, my lord, Grievous complaints of you: which, being consider'd, To make your house our Tower: You a brother of us," 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 3 You a brother of us, &c.] You being one of the council, it is necessary to imprison you, that the witnesses against you may not be deterred. And corn shall fly asunder: for, I know, There's none stands under more calumnious tongues, Than I myself, poor man. K. Hen. Stand up, good Canterbury; Thy truth, and thy integrity, is rooted In us, thy friend: Give me thy hand, stand up; Cran. Most dread liege, The good I stand on is my truth, and honesty ; Will triumph o'er my person; which I weigh not, 5 What can be said against me. K. Hen. Know you not how Your state stands i'the world, with the whole world? Are many, and not small; their practices Of as great size. Ween tination. 5 6 indurance,] i. e. confinement, or perhaps, delay, procras I weigh not,] i. e. have no value for. and not ever-] Not ever is an uncommon expression, and does not mean never, but not always. 7 Ween you of better luck,] To ween is to think, to imagine. Though now obsolete, the word was common to all our ancient writers. Whose minister you are, whiles here he liv'd Cran. God, and your majesty, Protect mine innocence, or I fall into Be of good cheer; K. Hen. 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's 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 an old Lady. Gent. [within.] Come back; What mean you? 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! K. Hen. Now, by thy looks Lady. |