Lov. Came you from the King, my Lord?

Gard. I did, Sir Thomas, and left him at Primero With the Duke of Suffolk.

Lov. I muft to him too,

Before he go to Bed.

I'll take my leave.

Gard. Not yet, Sir Thomas Lovel; what's the matter?, It seems you are in hafte: And if there be

No great Offence belongs to't, give your Friend

Some touch of your late Bufinefs; Affairs that walk,
As they fay Spirits do, at midnight, have

In them a wilder Nature, than the Business

That feeks dispatch by Day.

Lov. My Lord, I love you:

And durft commend a Secret to your Ear

Much weightier than this Word. The Queen's in Labour,

They fay in great extremity, and 'tis fear'd

She'll with the Labour end.

Gard. 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 grubb'd up now.

Lov. Methinks I could

Cry the Amen, and yet my Confcience fays,

She is a good Creature, and fweet Lady, does
Deferve our better Wishes.

Gard. But, Sir, Sir

Hear me, Sir Thomas

y'are a Gentleman

Of mine own way, I know you are Wife, Religious,
And let me tell you, it will ne'er be well,

'Twill not, Sir Thomas Lovel, tak't of me,

'Till Cranmer, Cromwell, her two Hands, and the, Sleep in their Graves.

Lov. Now, Sir, you speak of two

The moft remark'd i'th' Kingdom; as for Cromwell,
Befide that of the Jewel-houfe, is made Master
O'th' Rolls, and the King's Secretary. Further, Sir,
Stands in the gap and trade for more Preferments,
With which the Time will load him. Th'Archbishop
Is the King's Hand, or Tongue, and who dare fpeak
One Syllable against him?

Gard.

Gard. Yes, yes, Sir Thomas,

There are that dare; and I my felf have ventur'd
To fpeak my Mind of him; and indeed this Day,
Sir, I may tell it you, I think I have

Incens'd the Lords of the Council, that he is,
(For fo I know he is, they know he is)

A moft Arch-heretick, a Peftilence

That does infect the Land; with which they mov'd,
Have broken with the King, who hath so far
Given ear to our Complaint, of his great Grace
And Princely Care, forefeeing those fell Mischiefs
Our Reasons laid before him, hath commanded
To morrow Morning to the Council Board
He be Convented, He's a rank Weed, Sir Thomas,
And we muft root him out. From your Affairs
I hinder you too long: Good Night, Sir Thomas.

[Exeunt Gardiner and Page. Lov. Many good Nights, my Lord, I reft your Servant. Enter King and Suffolk.

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 fhall not, when my Fancy's on my Play.
Now, Lovel, from the Queen what is the News?
Lov. I could not perfonally deliver to her
What you commanded me, but by her Woman
I fent your Meffage, who return'd her Thanks
In the greatest humbleness, and defir'd your Highnefs
Moft heartily to pray for her.

King. What fay'ft thou! Ha!

To pray for her! What! is the crying out?

Lov. So faid her Woman, and that her fuffrance made

Almoft each pang a death.

King. Alas, good Lady.

Suf. God fafely quit her of her Burthern, and

With gentle Travel, to the gladding of

Your Highness with an Heir.

King. 'Tis midnight, Charles,

Prithee to Bed, and in thy Prayers remember

Th' eftate of my poor Queen. Leave me alone,

For

For I muft 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, Good Night:

Well, Sir, what follows?

Enter Sir Anthony Denny.

[Exit Suffolk.

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.

Lov. This is about that which the Bishop spake,

I am happily come hither.

Enter Cranmer and Denny.

King. Avoid the Gallery.

[Afide.

[Lovel feemeth to ftay.

Ha!I have faid-be gone. [Exeunt Lovel and Denny.

Cran. I am fearful: Wherefore frowns he thus?

'Tis his Afpect of Terror. All's not well.

King. How now, my Lord?

You do defire to know, wherefore

I fent for you.

Cran. It is my Duty

T'attend your Highness pleasure.

King. Pray you arife.

My good and gracious Lord of Canterbury :
Come, you and I muft 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 forry to repeat what follows,
I have, and moft unwillingly, of late
Heard many grievous, I do fay, my Lord,

Grievous Complaints of you; which being confider'd,
Have mov'd us, and our Council, that you fhall
This Morning come before us, where I know
You cannot with fuch freedom purge your self,
But that 'till further Trial, in those Charges

Which will require your Anfwer, you must take
Tour Patience to you, and be well contented

"o make your House our Tower; you, a Brother of us. fits we thus proceed, or elfe no witness

Would come against you.

Cran. I humbly thank your Highness,

and am right glad to catch this good occafion,
Moft throughly to be winnow'd, where my Chaff
and Corn fhall fly afunder. For I know

There's none ftands under more calumnious Tongues
Than I my felf, poor Man.

King. Stand up, good Canterbury;

Thy Truth and thy Integrity is rooted

us, thy Friend. Give me thy hand, ftand up, "rithee 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 should have ta'en fome pains, to bring together Your felf and your Accufers, and to have heard you Without indurance further.

Cran. Moft dread Liege,

The Good I ftand on, is my Truth and Honesty:
f they fhall fall, I, with mine Enemies,

Will triumph o'er my Perfon; which I weigh not,
Being of thofe Virtues vacant. I fear nothing

What can be faid against me.

King. Know you not

How your State ftands i'th' World, with the whole World?
Your Enemies are many, and not fmall; their Practices
Muft bear the fame proportion; and not ever

The Juftice and the Truth o'th' queftion carries
The due o'th' Verdict with it. At what cafe
Might corrupt Minds procure Knaves as corrupt
To fwear against you? Such things have been done.
You are potently oppos'd; and with a Malice
Of as great a fize. Ween you of better Luck,
mean in perjur'd Witnefs, than your Mafter,
Whole Minifter you are, whiles here he liv'd
Jpon this naughty Earth? Go to, go to,
You take a Precipice for no lap of danger,
And woo your own Deftruction.
VOL. IV.

S

Cran.

Cran. God and your Majefty

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 fee
You do appear before them. If they thall chance,
In charging you with Matters, to commit you;
The best perfuafions to the contrary

Fail not to ufe; and with what vehemency
The occafion fhall inftru&t you. If Intreaties.
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 honeft, on mine Honour. God's bleft Mother,
I fwear 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 all his Language in his Tears
Enter 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 fhade thy Perfon
Under their bleffed Wings.

King. Now by thy Looks

I guels thy Meffage.

Say, Ay, and of a Boye

Is the Queen deliver'd?

Lady. Ay, ay, my Liege;

And of a lovely Boy; the God of Heav'n
Both now, and ever blefs her: 'Tis a Girl,
Promises Boys hereafter. Sir, your Queen
Defires your Vifitation, and to be

Acquainted with this Stranger; 'tis as like you,
As Cherry is to Cherry.

King. Lovell.

Lov. Sir.

King. Give her an hundred Marks. I'll to the Queen.

[Exit King.

Lady