Cran.
I hope I am ^note not too late; and yet the gentleman
That was sent to me from the council pray'd me
To make great haste. All fast? what means this? Ho!
Who waits there? Sure, you know me? Enter Keeper.

Keep.
Yes, my lord;
But yet I cannot help you.

Cran.
Why? Enter ^note Doctor Butts.

Keep.
Your grace ^note must wait till you be call'd for.

Cran.
So.

Butts. [Aside ^note]
This is a piece ^note of malice. I am glad
I came this way so happily ^note: the king
Shall understand it presently. [Exit.

Cran. [Aside ^note]
'Tis Butts,
The king's physician: as he pass'd along,
How earnestly he cast his eyes upon me!
Pray heaven, he sound ^note not my disgrace! For certain,
This is of purpose laid by some that hate me—
God turn their hearts! I never sought their malice—
To quench mine honour: they would shame to make me
Wait else at door, a fellow-councillor,
'Mong ^note boys ^note, grooms ^note and lackeys. But their pleasures ^note
Must be fulfill'd ^note, and I attend with patience. Enter the King and Butts at a window above.

Butts.
I'll show your grace the strangest sight— ^note

King.
What's that, Butts?

Butts.
I think your highness saw this many a day.

King.
Body o' me ^note, where is it?

Butts.
There, my lord:
The high promotion of his grace of Canterbury;
Who holds his state at door, 'mongst pursuivants,
Pages and footboys.

King.
Ha! 'tis he, indeed:
Is this the honour they do one another?
Tis well there's one above 'em yet. I ^note had ^note thought
They had ^note parted so much honesty among 'em,
At least good manners, as not thus to suffer
A man of his place and so near our favour

To dance attendance on their lordships' pleasures,
And at the door too, like a post with packets.
By holy Mary, Butts, there's knavery:
Let 'em alone, and draw the curtain close;
We shall hear more anon. [Exeunt ^note. ^note

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