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Than I myself, poor man.

K. Hen. Stand up, good Canterbury;
Thy truth, and thy integrity, is rooted

In us, thy friend: Give me thy hand, stand 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
I should have ta'en some pains to bring together
Yourself and your accusers; and to have heard you
Without indurance, further.

Cran. 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.

K. Hen. Know you not how

Your state stands i'the 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'the question carries
The due o'the 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 oppos'd; and with a malice
Of as great size. Ween you of better luck,
I mean, in perjur'd witness, than your master,
Whose 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 destruction.

Cran. God, and your majesty,

Protect mine innocence, or I fall into
The trap, is laid for me!

K. Hen. 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
The 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.

Enter an old Lady.

Gent. [Within.] Come back; What mean you? 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!

K. Hen. Now, by thy looks

I guess thy message. Is the queen deliver❜d?
Say, ay; and of a boy.

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.

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Lady. An hundred marks! By this light, I'll have

more.

An ordinary groom is for such payment.

I will have more, or scold it out of him.
Said I for this, the girl is like to him?

I will have more, or else unsay't; and now
While it is hot, I'll put it to the issue.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-Lobby before the Council-chamber.

Enter CRANMER; Servants, Door-Keeper, &c. attending. Cran. I hope, I am not too late; and yet the gentle

man,

That was sent to me from the council, pray'd me

To make great haste. All fast? what means this ?— Hoa!

Who waits there?-Sure, you know me?

D. Keep. Yes, my lord;

But yet I cannot help you.

Cran. Why?

D. Keep. Your grace must wait, till you be call'd

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Butts. This is a piece of malice. I am glad

I came this way so happily: The king
Shall understand it presently.

Cran. [Aside.] 'Tis Butts,

The king's physician; As he past along,

How earnestly he cast his eyes upon me!

[Exit BUTTS.

Pray heaven, he sound not my disgrace! For certain, This is of purpose lay'd, 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 counsellor,

Among boys, grooms, and lackeys. But their plea

sures

Must be fulfill'd, and I attend with patience.

Enter, at a window above, the King and BUTTS. Butts. I'll show your grace the strangest sight,— K. Hen. What's that, Butts?

Butts. I think, your highness saw this many a day. K. Hen. Body o'me, 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.

VOL. 1X.

K. Hen. Ha! 'Tis he, indeed:

Is this the honour they do one another?

'Tis well, there's one above them yet. I had thought
They had parted so much honesty among them,
(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 them alone, and draw the curtain close;
We shall hear more anon.—

THE COUNCIL-CHAMBER.

[Exeunt.

Enter the Lord CHANCELLOR, the Duke of SUFFOLK, Earl of SURREY, Lord CHAMBERLAIN, GARDiner, and CROMWELL. The Chancellor places himself at the upper end of the table, on the left hand; a seat being left void above him, as for the Archbishop of CANTERBURY. The rest seat themselves in order on each side. CROMWELL at the lower end, as secretary.

Chan. Speak to the business, master secretary: Why are we met in council?

Crom. Please your honours,

The chief cause concerns his grace of Canterbury.
Gar. Has he had knowledge of it?

Crom. Yes.

Nor. Who waits there?

D. Keep. Without, my noble lords?

Gar. Yes.

D. Keep. My lord archbishop;

And has done half an hour, to know your pleasures.

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