Ch. 337: SCENE I. A gallery in the palace.
SCENE I. A gallery in the palace. ****
Enter Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, a Page with a torch before him, met by Sir Thomas Lovell.
GARDINER.
It’s one o’clock, boy, is’t not?
PAGE.
It hath struck.
GARDINER.
These should be hours for necessities,
Not for delights; times to repair our nature
With comforting repose, and not for us
To waste these times. Good hour of night, Sir Thomas!
Whither so late?
LOVELL.
Came you from the King, my lord?
GARDINER.
I did, Sir Thomas, and left him at primero
With the Duke of Suffolk.
LOVELL.
I must to him too,
Before he go to bed. I’ll take my leave.
GARDINER.
Not yet, Sir Thomas Lovell. What’s the matter?
It seems you are in haste. An if there be
No great offence belongs to’t, give your friend
Some touch of your late business. Affairs that walk,
As they say spirits do, at midnight have
In them a wilder nature than the business
That seeks despatch by day.
LOVELL.
My lord, I love you,
And durst commend a secret to your ear
Much weightier than this work. The Queen’s in labour—
They say in great extremity, and feared
She’ll with the labour end.
GARDINER.
The fruit she goes with
I pray for heartily, that it may find
Good time, and live; but for the stock, Sir Thomas,
I wish it grubbed up now.
LOVELL.
Methinks I could
Cry the amen, and yet my conscience says
She’s a good creature and, sweet lady, does
Deserve our better wishes.
GARDINER.
But, sir, sir,
Hear me, Sir Thomas. You’re a gentleman
Of mine own way. I know you wise, religious;
And let me tell you, it will ne’er be well,
’Twill not, Sir Thomas Lovell, take’t of me,
Till Cranmer, Cromwell, her two hands, and she
Sleep in their graves.
LOVELL.
Now, sir, you speak of two
The most remarked i’ th’ kingdom. As for Cromwell,
Beside that of the Jewel House, is made Master
O’ th’ Rolls, and the King’s secretary; further, sir,
Stands in the gap and trade of more preferments,
With which the time will load him. Th’ Archbishop
Is the King’s hand and tongue, and who dare speak
One syllable against him?
GARDINER.
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’ th’ Council, that he is—
For so I know he is, they know he is—
A most arch heretic, a pestilence
That does infect the land; with which they, moved,
Have broken with the King, who hath so far
Given ear to our complaint, of his great grace
And princely care foreseeing those fell mischiefs
Our reasons laid before him, hath commanded
Tomorrow morning to the Council board
He be convented. He’s a rank weed, Sir Thomas,
And we must root him out. From your affairs
I hinder you too long. Good night, Sir Thomas.
LOVELL.
Many good nights, my lord. I rest your servant.
[_Exeunt Gardiner and Page. _]
Enter King and Suffolk.
KING.
Charles, I will play no more tonight.
My mind’s not on’t; you are too hard for me.
SUFFOLK.
Sir, I did never win of you before.
KING.
But little, Charles,
Nor shall not, when my fancy’s on my play.
Now, Lovell, from the Queen what is the news?
LOVELL.
I could not personally deliver to her
What you commanded me, but by her woman
I sent your message, who returned her thanks
In the great’st humbleness, and desired your Highness
Most heartily to pray for her.
KING.
What sayst thou, ha?
To pray for her? What, is she crying out?
LOVELL.
So said her woman, and that her suff’rance made
Almost each pang a death.
KING.
Alas, good lady!
SUFFOLK.
God safely quit her of her burden, and
With gentle travail, to the gladding of
Your Highness with an heir!
KING.
’Tis midnight, Charles.
Prithee, to bed, and in thy prayers remember
Th’ estate of my poor Queen. Leave me alone,
For I must think of that which company
Will not be friendly to.
SUFFOLK.
I wish your Highness
A quiet night, and my good mistress will
Remember in my prayers.
KING.
Charles, good night.
[_Exit Suffolk. _]
Enter Sir Anthony Denny.
Well, sir, what follows?
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 Highness’ pleasure.
KING.
Bring him to us.
[_Exit Denny. _]
LOVELL.
[_Aside_.] This is about that which the Bishop spake.
I am happily come hither.
Enter Cranmer and Denny.
KING.
Avoid the gallery. [_Lovell seems to stay_.]
Ha! I have said. Be gone.
What!
[_Exeunt Lovell and Denny. _]
CRANMER.
[_Aside_.] I am fearful. Wherefore frowns he thus?
’Tis his aspect of terror. All’s not well.
KING.
How now, my lord? You do desire to know
Wherefore I sent for you.
CRANMER.
[_Kneeling_.] It is my duty
T’ attend your Highness’ pleasure.
KING.
Pray you, arise,
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,
And am right sorry to repeat what follows.
I have, and most unwillingly, of late
Heard many grievous—I do say, my lord,
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
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,
It fits we thus proceed, or else no witness
Would come against you.
CRANMER.
[_Kneeling_.] I humbly thank your Highness,
And am right glad to catch this good occasion
Most throughly 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.
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 halidom,
What manner of man are you? My lord, I looked
You would have given me your petition that
I should have ta’en some pains to bring together
Yourself and your accusers and to have heard you
Without endurance, further.
CRANMER.
Most dread liege,
The good I stand on is my truth and honesty.
If they shall fail, I with mine enemies
Will triumph o’er my person, which I weigh not,
Being of those virtues vacant. I fear nothing
What can be said against me.
KING.
Know you not
How your state stands i’ th’ world, with the whole world?
Your enemies are many, and not small; their practices
Must bear the same proportion, and not ever
The justice and the truth o’ th’ question carries
The due o’ th’ verdict with it. At what ease
Might corrupt minds procure knaves as corrupt
To swear against you? Such things have been done.
You are potently opposed, and with a malice
Of as great size. Ween you of better luck,
I mean in perjured witness, than your master,
Whose minister you are, whiles here he lived
Upon this naughty earth? Go to, go to.
You take a precipice for no leap of danger,
And woo your own destruction.
CRANMER.
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 see
You do appear before them. If they shall chance,
In charging you with matters, to commit you,
The best persuasions to the contrary
Fail not to use, and with what vehemency
Th’ occasion shall instruct 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 honest, on mine honour. God’s blest mother,
I swear 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 strangled
His language in his tears.
LOVELL.
[_Within_.] Come back! What mean you?
Enter Old Lady; Lovell follows.
OLD 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 person
Under their blessed wings!
KING.
Now by thy looks
I guess thy message. Is the Queen delivered?
Say “Ay, and of a boy”.
OLD LADY.
Ay, ay, my liege,
And of a lovely boy. The God of heaven
Both now and ever bless her! ’Tis a girl
Promises boys hereafter. Sir, your Queen
Desires your visitation, and to be
Acquainted with this stranger. ’Tis as like you
As cherry is to cherry.
KING.
Lovell.
LOVELL.
Sir?
KING.
Give her an hundred marks. I’ll to the Queen.
[_Exit King. _]
OLD LADY.
An hundred marks? By this light, I’ll ha’ more.
An ordinary groom is for such payment.
I will have more or scold it out of him.
Said I for this the girl was like to him?
I’ll have more, or else unsay’t. And now,
While ’tis hot, I’ll put it to the issue.
[_Exeunt. _]