Grievous complaints of you; which being confider'd,
Have mov'd us and our council, that you shall
This morning come before us, where I know
You cannot with fuch freedom purge your self,
But that 'till further tryal, in thofe 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 elfe no witness
Would come against you.

chaff

Cran. I humbly thank your Highness, And am right glad to catch this good occafion Moft throughly to be winnow'd, where my And corn fhall fly afunder. For I know There's none ftands 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'ythee 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 felf and your accufers, and have heard you
Without indurance further.

Cran, Moft dread Liege,

The good I ftand on is my truth and honesty:
If they fhall fall, I with mine enemies

which I weigh not, I fear nothing

Will triumph o'er my perfon;
Being of thofe virtues vacant.
What can be faid against me.

King. Know you not

How your ftate ftands i' th' world, with the whole world?

Your foes are many, and not small; their practices
Muft bear the fame proportion; and not ever
The juftice and the truth o' th' queftion carries
The due o' th' verdict with it. At what ease
Might corrupt minds procure knaves as corrupt
To fwear against you? fuch things have been done

You're

D ƒ

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 mafter,
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 deftruction.
Cran. God and your Majefty
Protect mine innocence, or I fall into
The trap is laid for me.

King. Be of good cheer,

They fhall no more prevail than we give way to:
Keep comfort to you, and this morning fee
You do appear before them. If they chance,
In charging you with matters to commit you;
The beft perfuafions to the contrary
Fail not to ule, and with what vehemency
Th' occafion fhall inftruct you. If intreaties.
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 honeft on mine honour. God's blest mother!
1 fwear he is true-hearted, and a foul

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 boldnefs manners. Now good angels
Fly o'er thy royal head, and fhade thy perfon
Under their bleffed wings!

King. Now by thy looks
I guess thy meffage.
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 blefs her!
'tis a girl,
Promifes boys hereafter. Sir, your Queen.
Defires your vifitation, and to be.

Is the Queen deliver❜d?

Acquainted

Acquainted with this ftranger; 'tis as like you,
As cherry is to cherry.
King. Lovell.

Lov. Sir.

King. Give her an hundred marks. I'll to the Queen. [Exit King.

Lady. An hundred marks! by this light I'll ha' more. An ordinary groom is for fuch a payment. I will have more, or fcold it out of him. Said I for this, the girl was like him? I'll Have more, or else unfay't; now, while 'tis hot, I'll put it to the iffue.

[Exit Lady.

SCENE IV.

Enter Cranmer.

Cran: Hope I'm not too late, and yet the gentleman me from

To make great hafte.
Who waits there?

All faft? what means this? hoa? fure you know me?

Enter Keeper.

Keep. Yes, my lord;
But yet I cannot help you.'
Cran. Why?

Keep. Your Grace muft wait 'till you be call'd for,

Enter Doctor Butts.

Cran. So.

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,

Exit Butts

The King's phyfician; as he paft along,
How earnestly he caft his eyes upon me!
Pray heav'n he found not my difgrace: for certain
This is of purpose laid by fome that hate me,
(God turn their Hearts, I never fought their malice)
To quench mine honour! they would fhame to make me

Wait

Wait elfe at door: a fellow-counsellor

Mong boys and grooms and lackeys! but their pleasures Must be fulfill'd, and I attend with patience.

Enter the King and Butts at a window above.
Butts. I'll fhew your Grace the ftrangeft fight-
King. What's that, Butts?

Butts. I think your Highness faw this many a day.
King. Body o'me: where is it?
Butts. There, my lord:

The high promotion of his Grace of Canterbury,
Who holds his ftate 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 fo much honesty among 'em,
At least good manners, as not thus to fuffer
A man of his place and fo near our favour
To dance attendance on their lordships pleasures,
And at the door too, like a poft with packets.
By holy Mary, Butts, there's knavery;
Let 'em alone, and draw the curtain close.
We fhall here more anon.

SCENE V.

A council table brought in with chairs and ftools, and placed under the ftate. Enter Lord-chancellor, places himself at the upper end of the table on the left hand. A feat being left void above him, as for the Archbishop of Canterbury. Duke of Suffolk, Duke of Norfolk, Surrey, Lord-chamberlain, and Gardiner, feat themselves in order on each fide. Cromwell at the lower end, as Secretary.

Chan. Speak to the business, Mr Secretary : Why are we met in council?

Crom. Please your Honours,

The caufe concerns his Grace of Canterbury,
Gard. Has he knowledge of it?

Cro m

Crom. Yes.

Nor. Who waits there?

Keep. Without, my noble lords?
Gard. Yes.

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-bishop, I'm very forry To fit here at this prefent, and behold That chair ftand empty: but we all are men In our own natures frail, and capable Of frailty, few are angels; from which frailty And want of wisdom, you that beft fhould teach us, Have misdemean'd your felf, 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 inforin'd) with new opinions Divers and dang'rous, which are herefies; And not reform'd, may prove pernicious.

Gard. Which reformation must be fudden too, My noble lords; for those that tame wild horfes Pace 'em not in their hands to make 'em gentle, But ftop their mouths with stubborn bits, and fpur 'em 'Till they obey the manage. If we suffer (Out of our eafinefs and childish pity To one man's honour) this contagious fickness, Farewel all phyfick: and what follows then? Commotions, uproars, with a gen❜ral taint 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 progrefs Both of my life and office, I have labour'd (And with no little ftudy) that my teaching And the ftrong courfe of my authority, Might go one way, and fafely; and the end Was ever to do well: nor is there living (I fpeak it with a fingle heart, my lords)