Of an ensuing evil, if it fall,

Greater than this.

1 Gent.

Good angels keep it from us!

What may it be? You do not doubt my faith, sir? 2 Gent. This secret is so weighty, 'twill require A strong faith to conceal it.

1 Gent.

I do not talk much.

2 Gent.

Let me have it;

I am confident;

You shall, sir: Did you not of late days hear

A buzzing, of a separation

Between the king and Katharine?

Yes, but it held not:

1 Gent.
For when the king once heard it, out of anger
He sent command to the lord mayor, straight
To stop the rumour, and allay those tongues
That durst disperse it.

2 Gent.

But that slander, sir,

Is found a truth now: for it grows again

Fresher than e'er it was; and held for certain,
The king will venture at it. Either the cardinal,
Or some about him near, have, out of malice
To the good queen, possess'd him with a scruple
That will undo her: To confirm this too,
Cardinal Campeius is arriv'd, and lately;
As all think, for this business.

'Tis the cardinal;

1 Gent.
And merely to revenge him on the emperor,
For not bestowing on him, at his asking,
The archbishoprick of Toledo, this is purpos'd.

2 Gent. I think, you have hit the mark: But is't

not cruel,

That she should feel the smart of this? The cardinal

Will have his will, and she must fall.

1 Gent.

We are too open here to argue this;

Let's think in private more.

SCENE II.

"Tis woful.

[Exeunt.

An Antichamber in the Palace.

Enter the Lord Chamberlain, reading a letter.,

Cham. My lord,-The horses your lordship sent for, with all the care I had, I saw well chosen, ridden, and furnished. They were young, and handsome; and of the best breed in the north. When they were ready to set out for London, a man of my lord cardinal's, by commission, and main power, took 'em from me; with this reason,—His master would be served before a subject, if not before the king: which stopp'd our mouths,

sir.

I fear, he will, indeed: Well, let him have them;
He will have all, I think.

Enter the Dukes of NORFOLK and SUFFOLK.

Nor.

Lord chamberlain.

Cham.

Well met, my good

Good day to both your graces.

Suf. How is the king employ'd?
Cham.

Full of sad thoughts and troubles.

Nor.

I left him private

What's the cause?

Cham. It seems, the marriage with his brother's

This is the cardinal's doing, the king-cardinal:
That blind priest, like the eldest son of fortune,
Turns what he list. The king will know him one

day.

Suf. Pray God, he do! he'll never know himself

else.

Nor. How holily he works in all his business! And with what zeal! For, now he has crack'd the

league

Between us and the emperor, the queen's great

nephew,

He dives into the king's soul; and there scatters
Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience,
Fears, and despairs, and all these for his marriage:
And, out of all these to restore the king,
He counsels a divorce: a loss of her,
That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years
About his neck, yet never lost her lustre ;
Of her, that loves him with that excellence

That angels love good men with; even of her,
That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls,
Will bless the king: And is not this course pious?
Cham. Heaven keep me from such counsel! 'Tis
most true,

These news are every where; every tongue speaks them,
And every true heart weeps for't: All, that dare
Lock into these affairs, see this main end,-

The French king's sister. Heaven will one day open The king's eyes, that so long have slept upon

This bold bad man.

Suf.

And free us from his slavery.

Nor. We had need pray,

And heartily, for our deliverance;

Or this imperious man will work us all
From princes into pages: all men's honours
Lie in one lump before him, to be fashion'd
Into what pitch he please.

Suf.
For me, my lords,
I love him not, nor fear him; there's my creed:
As I am made without him, so I'll stand,

If the king please; his curses and his blessings
Touch me alike, they are breath I not believe in.
I knew him, and I know him; so I leave him
To him, that made him proud, the pope.

Nor.

Let's in;

And, with some other business, put the king

From these sad thoughts, that work too much upon

him:

My lord, you'll bear us company?

Cham.

Excuse me;

The king hath sent me otherwhere: besides,
You'll find a most unfit time to disturb him:
Health to your lordships.

Nor.

Thanks, my good lord chamberlain. [Exit Lord Chamberlain.

NORFOLK opens a folding-door. The King is discovered sitting, and reading pensively.

Suf. How sad he looks! sure, he is much afflicted. K. Hen. Who is there? ha?

Nor.

'Pray God, he be not angry.

K. Hen. Who's there, I say? How dare you thrust

yourselves

Into my private meditations?

Who am I? ha?

Nor. A gracious king, that pardons all offences Malice ne'er meant: our breach of duty, this way,

Is business of estate; in which, we come

To know your royal pleasure.

K. Hen.

You are too bold;

Go to; I'll make ye know your times of business: Is this an hour for temporal affairs? ha?

Enter WOLSEY and CAMPEIUS.

Who's there? my good lord cardinal?-O my Wolsey,

The quiet of my wounded conscience,

Thou art a cure fit for a king.-You're welcome,

[To Campeius.

Most learned reverend sir, into our kingdom;