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 personally deliver to her
What you commanded me, but by her woman
I sent your message, who return'd her thanks
In greatest humbleness, and begg'd your Highness
Most heartily to pray for her.

King.
What say'st thou! ha!
To pray for her! what! is she crying out?

Lov.
So said her woman, and that her suff'rance made
Almost each pang a death.

King.
Alas, good lady!

Suf.
God safely quit her of her burthen, and
With gentle travel, to the gladding of
Your Highness with an heir.

King.
'Tis midnight, Charles;
Pr'ythee to bed, and in thy prayers remember
Th' estate of my poor Queen. Leave me alone,
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, a good night: [Exit Suffolk.
Well, Sir, what follows? Enter Sir Anthony Denny.

Denny.
Sir, I have brought my lord the Arch-bishop,
As you commanded me.

King.
Ha! Canterbury!—

Denny.
Yea, my good lord.

King.
'Tis true—where is he, Denny?

Denny.
He attends your Highness' pleasure.

King.
Bring him to us. [Exit Denny.

Lov.
This is about that which the bishop spake,
I am happily come hither. [Aside. Enter Cranmer and Denny.

King.
Avoid the gallery. [Lovel seemeth to stay.
Ha!—I have said—be gone. [Exeunt Lovel and Denny.

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