Though from an humble ftock, undoubtedly
Was fafhion'd to much honour. From his cradle, He was a fcholar, and a ripe and good one :
Exceeding wife, fair spoken, and perfuading : Lofty and four, to them that lov'd him not;
But, to thofe men that fought him, fweet as fummer. 15 Invite me to a banquet; whofe bright faces
Caft thousand beams upon me, like the fun? They promis'd me eternal happiness; And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel I am not worthy yet to wear: I fhall,
Grif. I am moft joyful, madam, such good Poffefs your fancy.
And though he were unfatisfy'd in getting, (Which was a fin) yet in bestowing, madam, He was moft princely: Ever witness for him Thofe twins of learning, that he rais'd in you, Ipfwich, and Oxford! one of which fell with him, 20 Affuredly. Unwilling to out-live the good he did it ; The other, though unfinish'd, yet fo famous, So excellent in art, and still so rifing, That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue. His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him; For then, and not 'till then, he felt himself, And found the bleffednefs of being little: And, to add greater honours to his age
Grif. She is afleep: Good wench, let's fit down quiet,
Kath. Bid the mufick leave, They are harsh and heavy to me.
How much her grace is alter'd on the fudden? How long her face is drawn? How pale fhe looks, And of an earthy cold? Mark her eyes.
Grif. She is going, wench; pray, pray. Pat. Heaven comfort her! Enter a Meffenger.
Mes. An't like your grace,—
Kath. You are a fawcy fellow:
Deferve we no more reverence?
Grif. You are to blame,
Knowing, fhe will not lofe her wonted greatness, To ufe fo rude behaviour: go to, kneel.
Mef. I humbly do entreat your highness' pardon; My hafte made me unmannerly: There is ftaying 40 A gentleman, fent from the king, to fee you. Kath. Admit him entrance, Griffith: But this Let me ne'er fee again. [fellow
[Exeunt Griffith, and Mejenger. Re-enter Griffith, with Capucius.
For fear we wake her:-Softly, gentle Patience. The vifin. Enter, folemnly tripping one after an ether, fix perfonages, clad in white robes, wear- ing on their beads garlands of bays, and golden wizards on their faces; branches of bays, or palm, in their bands. They first congee unto ber, 50 then dance; and, at certain changes, the first tw bold a spare garland over her head; at swhich, the other four make reverend curtfies; then the true, that held the garland, deliver the fame to the aber next two, who cbferve the fame order in 55 their changes, and holding the garland over ber bead: which done, they deliver the fame garland to the laft two, rubo likewise observe the fame order:
You should be lord ambaffador from the emperor My royal nephew, and your name Capucius. Cap. Madam, the fame, your fervant.
The times, and titles, now are alter'd ftrangely With me, fince first you knew me. But, I pray What is your pleasure with me?
Firft, mine own fervice to your grace; the next, The king's request that I would vifit you; Who grieves much for your weakness, and by me Sends you his princely commendations, And heartily entreats you take good comfort.
1 A criminal connection with women was anciently call'd the vice of the body. So, in Holinfbed, P. 1258,"he labour'd by all means to cleare mistreffe Sanders of committing evill of her bodie with him." 2 Dr. Percy remarks, that "this reflection bears a great refemblance to a paffage in Sir Thomas More's Hiftory of Richard III. where, fpeaking of the ungrateful turns which Jane Shore experienced from thofe whom the had ferved in her profperity; More adds, "Men ufe, if they have an eval turne, to write it in marble, and whofe doth us a good turne, we write it in dufte.”
Kath. In which I have commended to his goodThe model of our chafte loves, his young daughter: The dews of heaven fall thick in bleffings on her! Befeeching him, to give her virtuous breeding; (She is young, and of a noble modest nature; I hope, the will deferve well) and a little
To love her for her mother's fake, that lov'd him, Heaven knows how dearly. My next poor petition
Is, that his noble grace would have some pity Upon my wretched women, that so long Have follow'd both my fortunes faithfully: Of which there is not one, I dare avow, (And now I should not lye) but will deferve, For virtue, and true beauty of the foul,
For honesty, and decent carriage,
A right good husband; let him be a noble : And, fure, thofe men are happy that shall have 'em. The laft is, for my men;-they are the pooreft, 5 But poverty could never draw 'em from me ;- That they may have their wages duly paid 'em, And fomething over to remember me by : If heaven had pleas'd to have given me longer life, And able means, we had not parted thus. [lord,
10 Thefe are the whole contents:-And, good my By that you love the deareft in this world, As you with christian peace to fouls departed, Stand thefe poor people's friend, and urge the king To do me this last right.
Cap. By heaven, I will;
Or let me lofe the fashion of a man!
Kath. I thank you, honeft lord.
In all humility unto his highnefs: Say, his long trouble now is paffing
20 Out of this world: tell him, in death I bleft him, For fo I will.-Mine eyes grow dim.-Farewel, My lord.-Griffith, farewel.—Nay, Patience, You must not leave me yet. I must to bed ;Call in more women.When I am dead, good 25 wench,
• Primero and primavifta, two games at cards, that is, firft, and firft feen: because he that can fhew fuch an order of cards first,.wins the game. 2 i. e. of mine own opinion in religion.
And, let me tell you, it will ne'er be well,- "Twill not, Sir Thomas Lovel, take 't of me,— 'Till Cranmer, Cromwell, her two hands, and she, Sleep in their graves.
Lov. 'Now, fir, you speak of two The most remark'd i' the kingdom. As for Crom- Befide that of the jewel-houfe, he's made mafter O' the rolls, and the king's fecretary; further, fir, Stands in the gap and trade of more preferments, With which the time will load him: The arch-10 bishop [fpeak
Is the king's hand, and tongue; And who dare One fyllable against him?
Gard. Yes, yes, Sir Thomas,
There are that dare; and I myself have ventur'd To ípeak my mind of him: and, indeed, this day, Sir, (I may tell it you) I think, I have Incens'd the lords o' the council, that he is (For fo I know he is, they know he is) A most arch beretick, a peftilence
That does infect the land: with which they mov'd, Have broken 2 with the king; who hath so far Given ear to our complaint, (of his great grace And princely care; forefceing thofe fell mischiefs
[Exeunt Lovel, and Denny. Cran. I am fearful:-Wherefore frowns he thus? 'Tis his afpect of terror. All's not well. [know King. How now, my lord? You do defire to Wherefore I fent for you.
Cran. It is my duty,
To attend your highness' pleasure.
King. Pray you, arise,
My good and gracious lord of Canterbury. Come, you and I must walk a turn together;
Ah, my good lord, I grieve at what I speak, And am right forry to repeat what follows:
Our reafons laid before him) he hath commanded, 25I have news to tell you: Come, come, give me To-morrow morning to the council-board [mas, He be convented 3. He's a rank weed, Sir Tho- And we must root him out. From your affairs I hinder you too long: good night, Sir Thomas. Lev. Many good nights, my lord; I reft your 30 fervant. [Exeunt Gardiner and Page. As Lovel is going out, enter the King, and the Duke of Suffolk.
King. 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 you before. King. But little, Charles;
Nor shall not, when my fancy's on my play.- Now, Lovel, from the queen what is the news? Lov. I could not perfonally deliver to her What you commanded me, but by her woman I fent your message; who return'd her thanks In the greatest humbleness, and defired your high- Moft heartily to pray for her.
King. What fay'st thou? ha!
I have, and most unwillingly, of late Heard many grievous, I do fay, my lord, Grievous complaints of you; which, being con- fider'd,
Have mov'd us and our council, that you fhall This morning come before us; where, I know, 35 You cannot with fuch freedom purge yourself, But that, 'till further trial, 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 4,
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 occafion 45 Most thoroughly to be winnow'd, where my chaff And corn fhall fly afunder: for, I know, There's none ftandsunder morecalumnioustongues, Than I myself, poor man.
King. Stand up, good Canterbury;
50 Thy truth, and thy integrity, is rooted
In us, thy friend: Give me thy hand, ftand 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 551 fhould have ta'en fome pains to bring together Yourself and your accufers; and to have heard you Without indurance, further.
2 i. e. they have broken filence, and told their 4 i. e. you being one of the council.
i.e. the practifed method, the general course. minds to the king. 3 i. e. fummon'd, contien'd.
Being of thofe virtues vacant. I fear nothing What can be faid against me.
How your state ftands i' the world, with the whole Your enemies are many, and not fmall; their practices
Muft bear the fame proportion: and not ever The juftice and the truth o' the question carries The due o' the verdict with it: At what eafe Might corrupt minds procure knaves as corrupt To fwear against you? such things have been done. You are 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, Whofe minister 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.
Cran. God, and your majesty,
Protect mine innocence, or I fall into
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 fhall chance, In charging you with matters, to commit you, The best perfuafions to the contrary Fail not to use, and with what vehemency The occafion shall inftruct you: if entreaties 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 foul None better in my kingdom. Get you gone, And do as I have bid you. He has strangled His language in his tears. [Exit Cranmer.
Enter an Old Lady. Gen. [within.] Come back; what mean you? 40 Lady. I'll not come back; the tidings that
Before the Council Chamber.
Cranmer, Servants, Door-keeper, &c. attending. Cran. I hope, I am not too late; and 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?
D. Keep. Yes, my lord;
But yet I cannot help you.
D. Keep. Your grace must wait, 'till you be called for.
Butts. This is a piece of malice. I am glad,
I came this way fo happily: The king'
Shall understand it prefently.
Cran. [Afide.] 'Tis Butts,
The king's phyfician; As he past along, How earnestly he caft his eyes upon me! Pray heaven he found not my disgrace! For certain, This is of purpose lay'd, by fome that hate me, (God turn their hearts! I never fought their malice) To quench mine honour; they would shame to make me
Wait elfe at door; a fellow counsellor, [fures Among boys, grooms, and lackeys. But their plea- 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?
The high promotion of his grace of Canterbury; Who holds his ftate at door, 'mongst pursuivants, 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 so 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 thail hear more anon.-
Enter the Lord Chancellor, places himself at the upper end of the table on the left band; a feat being left void above bim, as for the Archbishop of Canterbury. Duke of Suffolk, Duke of Norfolk, Surrey, Lord Chamberlain, and Gardiner, feat them
To ween is to think, to imagine. Obfolete.
felves in order on each fide, Cromwell at the lower end, as Secretary.
1 Chan. Speak to the business, mafter Secretary: Why are we met in council?
Crom. Please your honours,
The chief caufe concerns his grace of Canterbury. Gard. Has he had knowledge of it?
Nor. Who waits there?
D. Keep. Without, my noble lords? Gard. Yes.
D. Keep. My lord archbishop;
And has done half an hour, to know your pleasures. Chan. Let him come in.
D. Keep. Your grace may enter now.
[Cranmer approaches the council table.
Chan. My good lord archbishop, I am very forry To fit here at this present, and behold That chair ftand empty: But we all are men, In our own natures frail; and capable
And, by that virtue, no man dare accufe you. Gard. My lord, because we have business of more [pleafure, We will be fhort with you. "Tis his highness' And our confent, for better trial of you, From hence you be committed to the Tower; Where, being but a private man again,
You fhall know many dare accuse you boldly, More than, I fear, you are provided for. [thank you, Cran. Ah, my good lord of Winchester, I You are always my good friend; if your will pafs, I thall both find your lordship judge and juror, You are fo merciful: I fee your end, 'Tis my undoing: Love, and meekness, lord, 15 Become a churchman better than ambition; Win ftraying fouls with modesty again, Caft none away. That I fhall clear myself, Lay all the weight ye can upon my patience, I make as little doubt, as you do confcience 20 In doing daily wrongs. I could fay more, But reverence to your calling makes me modeft. Gard. My lord, my lord, you are a fectary, That's the plain truth; your painted glofs3discovers, To men that understand you, words and weakness. Crom. My lord of Winchester, you are a little, By your good favour, too sharp; men so noble, However faulty, yet should find respect
Of our flesh, few are angels 2: out of which frailty, And want of wisdom, you, that best should teach us, Have misdemean'd yourself, and not a little, Toward the king first, then his laws, in filing[lains', The whole realm, by your teaching, and your chap-25 (For fo we are inform'd) with new opinions, Divers, and dangerous; which are herefies, And, not reform'd, may prove pernicious.
Gard. Which reformation must be sudden too, My noble lords: for thofe, that tame wild horfes, Pace 'em not in their hands to make 'em gentle; But stop their mouths with stubborn bits, and fpur 'Till they obey the manage. If we fuffer ['em, (Out of our eafiness, and childish pity Toone man's honour) this contagious fickness, Farewel all phyfic: And what follows then? Commotions, uproars, with a general taint
Of the whole state: as, of late days, our neighbours, The upper Germany, can dearly witness.
For what they have been: 'tis a cruelty, To load a falling man.
Gard. Good master Secretary,
I cry your honour mercy; you may, worst Of all this table, say so.
Crom. Why, my lord?
Gard. Do not I know you for a favourer 35 Of this new fect? ye are not found Crom. Not found?
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 study, 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 speak it with a fingle heart, my lords) A man, that more detefts, more ftirs against, Both in his private conscience, and his place, Defacers of a public peace, than I do.
Pray heaven, the king may never find a heart With lefs allegiance in it! Men, that make Envy, and crooked malice, nourishment, Dare bite the best. I do beseech your lordships, That, in this cafe of juftice, my accufers, Be what they will, may ftand forth face to face, And freely urge against me.
That cannot be; you are a counsellor,
Crem. 'Would you were half fo honest! Men's prayers then would feek you, not their fears. Gard. I fhall remember this bold language. Crom. Do:
Remember your bold life too.
Cham. This is too much;
Forbear, for shame, my lords.
'This lord chancellor, though a character, has hitherto had no place in the Dramatis Perfone. In the last scene of the fourth act, we heard that Sir Thomas More was appointed lord chancellor : but it is not he, whom the poet here introduces. Wolfey, by command, delivered up the feals on the 18th of November, 1529; on the 25th of the same month, they were delivered to Sir Thomas More, who furrender'd them on the 16th of May, 1532. Now the conclufion of this fcene taking notice of queen Elizabeth's birth (which brings it down to the year 1534), Sir Thomas Audlie must neceffarily be our poet's chancellor; who fucceeded Sir Thomas More, and held the feals many years. 2 Meaning, perhaps, Few are perfect, while they remain in their mortal capacity. 3. e, your fair outside.
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