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Grievous complaints of you; which being consider’d, Have moy'd us and our council,
This morning come before us, where I know
You cannot with fuch freedom purge your self,
But that 'till further tryal, 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
And corn shall fly asunder. For I know
There's none stands under more calumnious tongues
Than I my felf, poor man.
King. Stand up, good Canterbury;
Thy truth and thy integrity is rooted
In us, thy friend. Give me thy hand, stand up,
Pr'ythes let's walk. Now, by my holy dame,
What manner of man are you? my lord, I look'd
You would have given me your petition, that
I should have ta'en fome pains to bring together
Your self and your accusers, and have heard you
Without indurance further.
Cran, Most dread Liege,
The good I stand on is my truth and honesty :
If they shall fall, I with mine enemies
Will triumph o'er my person ; which I weigh not,
Being of thofe virtues vacant. I fear nothing
What can be said against me.
King. Know you not How your state stands i' th' world, with the whole
world? Your foes are many, and not small; their practices Must bear the saine proportion; and not ever The justice and the truth o' th' question carries The due o'th' verdict with it. At what ease Might corrupt minds procure knaves as corrupt To swear against you? such things have been done
Your'e potently oppos’d; and with a malice
Of as great fize. Ween you of better luck,
I mean in perjur'd witness, than your master,
Whose minifter you are, while here he liv'd
Upon this naughty earth ? go to, go to,
You take a precipice for no leap of danger,
And woo your own destruction.
Cran. 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 chance, In charging you with matters to commit you; The best persuasions to the contrary Fail not to use, and with what vehemency Th' occasion shall instruct you. If intreaties, Vill 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'as ftrangled all 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 lhade 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.
Lady. Ay, ay, my Liege;
And of a lovely boy; the God of heav'n
Both now and ever bless her! 'tis a girl,
Promises boys hereafter. Sir, your Queen
Defires your yilitation, and to be
Acquainted with this stranger ; 'eis as like you,
As cherry is to cherry,
King. Give her an hundred marks. I'll to the Queen,
Lady. An hundred marks ! by this light I'll ha' more.
An ordinary groom is for such a payment,
I will have more, or scold it out of him.
Said I for this, the girl was like him? I'll
Have more, or else unsay't; now, while 'tis hot,
put it to the issue.
Cran: Hope I'm not too late, and yet the gentleman
That was sent to me from the council, pray'd me
To make great haste. All faft ? what means this? hoa ?
Who waits there? sure you know me
Keep. Yes, my lord,
But yet I cannot help you.'
Keep. Your Grace must wait 'till
be called for,
Enter Doctor Butts.
Butts. This is a piece of malice: I am glad
I came this way fo happily. The King
Shall understand it presently.
Cran. 'Tis Butts,
The King's physician ; as he past along,
How earnestly he cast his eyes upon me!
Pray heav'n he found not my disgrace: for certain
This is of purpose laid by some that hate me,
(God turn iheir Hearts, I never sought their malice)
To quench mine honour ! they would shame to make me
Wait elle at door: a fellow-counsellor 'Mong boys and grooms and lackeys! but their pleasures Must be fulfillid, and I attend with patience.
Enter the King and Butts at a window above.
Butts. I'll shew your Grace the strangest fight
King. What's that, Butts ?
Butts. I think your Highness saw this many a day.
King. Body o'me: where is it?
Butts. There, my
The high promotion of his Grace of Canterbury,
Who holds his state at door 'mongst purfevants,
Pages and foot-boys.
King. Ha! 'tis he indeed.
Is this the honour they do one another?
'Tis well there's one above 'em yet. I thought
They'd parted so much honesty among 'em,
At least good manners, as not thus to suffer
A man of his place and so near our favour
To dance attendance on their lordships pleasures,
And at the door too, like a post with packets.
By holy Mary, Butts, there's knavery;
Let 'em alone, and draw the curtain close.
We shall here more anon.-
SCE NE V.
A council table brought in with chairs and stools, and
placed under the state. Enter Lord-chancellor, places himself at the upper end of the table on the left hand. A seat being left void above him, as for the Arcke bishop of Canterbury. Duke of Suffolk, Duke of Nor. folk, Surrey, Lord-chamberlain, and Gardiner, seat themselves in order on each side. Cromwell at the lower end, as Secretary.
Chan. Speak to the business, Mr Secretary:
Why are we met in council?
The cause concerns his Grace of Canterbury.
Gard. Has he knowledge of it?
Nor. Who waits there?
Keep. Without, my noble lords?
Keep. My lord Arch-bishop;
And has done half an hour, to know your pleasures.
Chan. Let him come in.
Keep. Your Grace may enter now.
(Cranmer approaches the council table,
Chan. My good lord Arch-bilhop, I'm very sorry,
To sit here at this present, and behold
That chair stand empty: but we all are men
In our own natures frail, and capable
Of frailey, few are angels; from which frailty
And want of wisdom, you that beft should teach us,
Have misdemean'd your self, and not a little :
Tow'rd the King first, then his laws, in filling
The whole realm, by your teaching and your chaplains,
(For so we are inforın'd) with new opinions
Divers and dang’rous, which are heresies;
And not reform'd, may prove pernicious.
Gard. Which reformation muft be fudden too, My noble lords ; for those that tame wild horses Pace 'em not in their hands to make 'em gentle, But stop their mouths with stubborn bits, and fpur leng 'Till they obey the manage. If we suffer (Out of our easiness and childish pity To one man's honour ) this contagious fickness, Farewel all phyfick: and what follows then? Commotions, uproars, with a gen'ral taiat Of the whole ftate: as of late days our neighbours The upper Germany can dearly witness, Yet freshly pitied in our memories.
Cran. My good lords, hitherto, in all the progress Both of my life and office, I have labour'd (And with no little ftudy) that my teaching And the strong course of my authority, Might go one way, and safely, and the end Was ever to do well: nor is there living (I speak it with a fingle beart, my lords)