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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
Remember in my Prayers.

King. Charles, Good Night:

Well, Sir, what follows?

Enter Sir Anthony Denny.

[Exit Suffolk.

Denny. Sir, I have brought my Lord the Archbishop,

As you commanded me.

King. Ha! Canterbury!

Denny. Ay, my good Lord.

King. 'Tis true-where is he, Denny?
Denny. He attends your Highnefs pleasure.

King. Bring him to us.

[Exit Denny.

Lov. This is about that which the Bishop spake.

I am happily come hither.

Enter Cranmer and Denny.

King. Avoid the Gallery.

[Afide.

[Lovel feemeth to stay.

Ha!I have faid-be gone. [Exeunt Lovel and Denny:

Cran. I am fearful: Wherefore frowns he thus?

'Tis his Afpect of Terror. All's not well.

King: How now, my Lord?

You do defire to know, wherefore

I fent for you.

Cran. It is my Duty

T'attend your Highnefs pleasure.

King. Pray you arife,

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 fpeak,
And am right forry to repeat what follows,
I have, and moft unwillingly, of late
Heard many grievous, I do fay, my Lord,
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 felf,
But that 'till further Trial, in thofe Charges

Which will require your Anfwer, you must take
Your Patience to you, and be well contented

To make your Houfe our Tower; you, a Brother of us.
It fits we thus proceed, or elfe no witness
Would come against you.

Cran. I humbly thank your Highness,

Chaff

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,
Prithee 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 to have heard you
Without indurance further.

Cran. Moft dread Liege,

The Good I ftand on, is my Truth and Honesty:
If they fhall fail, I, with mine Enemies,

Will triumph o'er my Perfon; which I weigh not,
Being of thofe Virtues vacant. I fear nothing

What can be faid against me.

King. Know you not

How your State ftands i'th' World, with the whole World? Your Enemies are many, and not fmall; their Practices

Must bear the fame proportion; and not ever

The Juftice and the Truth o'th' question carries
The due o'th' Verdi& with it. At what ease
Might corrupt Minds procure Knaves as corrupt
To fwear against you? Such things have been done.
You are potently oppos'd; and with a Milice
Of as great a fize. Ween you of better Luck,
I mean in perjur'd Witness, than your Master,
Whofe Minifter you are, whiles 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.
VOL. IV.

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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 fee
You do appear before them. If they shall chance,
In charging you with Matters, to commit you;
The beft perfuafions to the contrary

Fail not to ufe; 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 bleft Mother,

I fwear 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 has ftrangled all his Language in his Tears.
Enter 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 Perfon
Under their bleffed Wings.

King. Now by thy Looks

I guess thy Meffage. Is the Queen deliver'd?
Say, Ay, and of a Boy.

Lady. Ay, ay, my Liege;

And of a lovely Boy; the God of Heaven
Both now, and ever blefs her: 'Tis a Girl,
Promises Boys hereafter. Sir, your Queen
Defires your Vifitation, and to be

Acquainted with this Stranger; '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 Kings

Lady.

Lady. An hundred Marks! By this Light, I'll ha' more. An ordinary Groom is for fuch Payment.

I will have more, or fcold it out of him.

Said I for this, the Girl was like to him? I'll

Have more, or elfe unfay't: and now, while 'tis hot,
I'll put it to the issue.

SCENE II.

Enter Cranmer.

Cran. I hope I am not too late, and

[Exit Lady

yet

the Gentleman

That was fent to me from the Council, pray'd me

To make great hafte. All faft? What means this? Hoa? Who waits there? Sure you know me ?

Keep. Yes, my Lord;

Enter Keeper.

But yet I cannot help you.

Cran. Why?

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

Cran. So.

Enter Doctor Butts.

Butts. This is a piece of Malice: I am glad

I came this way fo haply. The King

Shall understand it presently.

Cran. 'Tis Butts,

The King's Physician, as he paft along,

How earneftly he caft his Eyes upon me;

Exit Butts.

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 elfe at Door: A Fellow-Councellor

'Mong Boys, Grooms, and Lackeys!

But their Pleasures

Must be fulfilled, 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?

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Butts. I think your Highness faw this many a Day.
King. Body a me: where is it?

Butts. There, my Lord:

The high Promotion of his Grace of Canterbury,
Who holds his State at door 'mongst Pursevants,
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 had thought
They had parted fo much Honesty among 'em,
At leaft 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 shall hear more anon.

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 Archbishop of Canterbury's Seat. Duke of Suffolk, Duke of Norfok, Surrey, LordChamberlain, and Gardiner, feat themselves in Order on each fide. Cromwel at the lower end, as Secretary.

Chan. Speak to the Bufinefs, Mr. Secretary: Why are we met in Council?

Crom. Please your Honours,

The chief Caufe concerns his Grace of Canterbury.

Gard. Has he knowledge of it?

Crom. Yes.

Nor. Who waits there?

Keep. Without, my Noble Lords?

Gard. Yes.

Keep. My Lord Archbishop;

And has done half an hour, to know your

Chan. Let him come in.

Keep. Your Grace may enter now.

Pleasures:

[Cranmer approaches the Council Table.

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