Lov. Now, sir, you speak of two The most remarked i' the kingdom. As for Crom well, 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 Arch bishop Is the King's hand and tongue; and who dare speak One syllable against him? Gar. Yes, yes, Sir Thomas, There are that dare; and I myself have ventured To speak my mind of him: and, indeed, this day, Sir, I may tell it you, I think, I have Incensed the lords o' the council, that he is A most arch heretic, a pestilence That does infect the land: with which they moved 164 He be convented. KING HENRY VIII. He's a rank weed, Sir Thomas, And we must root him out. From your affairs I rest your I hinder you too long: good night, Sir Thomas. Lov. Many good nights, my lord. 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 : My mind 's not on 't; you are too hard for me. Suf. Sir, I did never win of K. Hen. But little, Charles; 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 suffer ance made 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 Would not be friendly to. Suf. I wish your highness A quiet night, and my good mistress will K. Hen. Charles, good night.— [Exit SUFFOLK Enter Sir ANTHONY DENNY. Well, sir, what follows? Den. Sir, I have brought my lord the Archbishop, Lov. [Aside.] This is about that which the Bishop spake : I am happily come hither. Cran. I am fearful:-wherefore frowns he thus? 'Tis his aspect of terror: all's not well. K. Hen. How now, my lord? You do desire to 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, Grievous complaints of you; which, being considered, Have moved us and our Council, that you shall This morning come before us; where, I know, You cannot with such freedom purge yourself, 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 thoroughly to be winnowed, where my chaff And corn shall fly asunder; for, I know, There's none stands under more calumnious tongues, Than I myself, poor man. K. Hen. Prythee, let's walk. Stand up, good Canterbury: integrity is rooted Give me thy hand, stand up: What manner of man Now, by my halidom, are you? My lord, I looked You would have given me your petition, that you, Without indurance, further. Cran. Most dread liege, The good I stand on is my truth and honesty : |