Gard.
Dread Sov'reign, how much are we bound to heav'n
In daily thanks, that gave us such a Prince,
Not only good and wise, but most religious;
One, that in all obedience makes the Church
The chief aim of his honour; and to strengthen
That holy duty, out of dear respect,
His royal self in judgment comes to hear
The cause betwixt her and this great offender.

King.
You're ever good at sudden commendations,
Bishop of Winchester. But know, I come not
To hear such flatt'ries now; and in my presence
They are too thin and base to hide offences.
To me you cannot reach, you play the spaniel,
And think with wagging of your tongue to win me,
But whatsoe'er thou tak'st me for, I'm sure,
Thou hast a cruel nature, and a bloody.
Good man, sit down. Now let me see the proudest [To Cranmer.
He, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee.
By all that's holy, he had better starve,
Than but once think, this place becomes thee not.

Sur.
May't please your Grace—

King.
No, Sir, it does not please me.
I thought, I had men of some understanding
And wisdom, of my Council; but I find none.
Was it discretion, Lords, to let this man,
This good man, few of you deserve that title,
This honest man, wait like a lowsy foot-boy
At chamber-door, and one as great as you are?
Why, what a shame was this? did my commission
Bid ye so far forget yourselves? I gave ye
Pow'r, as he was a counsellor to try him;

Not as a groom. There's some of ye, I see,
More out of malice than integrity,
Would try him to the utmost, had ye means;
Which ye shall never have, while I do live.

Cham.
My most dread Sovereign, may it like your Grace
To let my tongue excuse all. What was purpos'd
Concerning his imprisonment, was rather,
If there be faith in men, meant for his trial,
And fair purgation to the world, than malice;
I'm sure, in me.

King.
Well, well, my Lords, respect him:
Take him, and use him well; he's worthy of it.
I will say thus much for him, if a Prince
May be beholden to a subject, I
Am, for his love and service, so to him.
Make me no more ado, but all embrace.
Be friends for shame, my Lords.—My Lord of Canterbury,
I have a suit which you must not deny me,
There is a fair young maid, that yet wants baptism;
You must be godfather, and answer for her.

Cran.
The greatest monarch now alive may glory
In such an honour; how may I deserve it,
That am a poor and humble subject to you?

King.
Come, come, my Lord, ^{2 note}you'd spare your spoons. You shall have
Two noble partners with you: the old Dutchess
Of Norfolk, and the lady Marquess Dorset.
—Once more, my Lord of Winchester, I charge you
Embrace and love this man.

Gard.
With a true heart
And brother's love I do it.

Cran.
And let heaven
Witness, how dear I hold this confirmation. [Embracing.

King.
Good man, those joyful tears shew thy true heart:
The common voice, I see, is verify'd
Of thee, which says thus: Do my Lord of Canterbury
But one shrewd turn, and he's your friend for ever.
Come, Lords, we trifle time away: I long
To have this young one made a christian.
As I have made ye one, Lords, one remain;
So I grow stronger, you more honour gain. [Exeunt.

Previous section

Next section