What he deserves of you and me, I know;
What we can do to him – though now the time
15
Gives way to us – I much fear. If you cannot
Bar his access to th’ King, never attempt
Anything on him, for he hath a witchcraft
Over the King in’s tongue.
NORFOLK O, fear him not:
His spell in that is out. The King hath found
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Matter against him that for ever mars
The honey of his language. No, he’s settled,
Not to come off, in his displeasure.
SURREY Sir,
I should be glad to hear such news as this
Once every hour.
NORFOLK Believe it, this is true.
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In the divorce his contrary proceedings
Are all unfolded, wherein he appears
As I would wish mine enemy.
SURREY How came
His practices to light?
SUFFOLK Most strangely.
SURREY O, how, how?
SUFFOLK
The Cardinal’s letters to the Pope miscarried
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And came to th’eye o’th’ King, wherein was read
How that the Cardinal did entreat his holiness
To stay the judgement o’th’ divorce; for if
It did take place, ‘I do’, quoth he, ‘perceive
My King is tangled in affection to
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A creature of the Queen’s, Lady Anne Bullen.’
SURREY Has the King this?
SUFFOLK Believe it.
SURREY Will this work?
CHAMBERLAIN
The King in this perceives him how he coasts
And hedges his own way. But in this point
All his tricks founder, and he brings his physic
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After his patient’s death. The King already
Hath married the fair lady.
SURREY Would he had!
SUFFOLK May you be happy in your wish, my lord,
For I profess you have it.
SURREY Now all my joy
Trace the conjunction.
SUFFOLK My amen to’t.
NORFOLK All men’s.
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SUFFOLK There’s order given for her coronation.
Marry, this is yet but young, and may be left
To some ears unrecounted. But, my lords,
She is a gallant creature, and complete
In mind and feature. I persuade me from her
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Will fall some blessing to this land which shall
In it be memorized.
SURREY But will the King
Digest this letter of the Cardinal’s?
The Lord forbid.
NORFOLK Marry, amen.
SUFFOLK No, no:
There be more wasps that buzz about his nose
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Will make this sting the sooner. Cardinal Campeius
Is stolen away to Rome; hath ta’en no leave;
Has left the cause o’th’ King unhandled; and
Is posted as the agent of our Cardinal
To second all his plot. I do assure you
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The King cried ‘Ha!’ at this.
CHAMBERLAIN Now God incense him,
And let him cry ‘Ha!’ louder.
NORFOLK But, my lord,
When returns Cranmer?
SUFFOLK He is returned in his opinions, which
Have satisfied the King for his divorce,
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Together with all famous colleges,
Almost, in Christendom. Shortly, I believe,
His second marriage shall be published, and
Her coronation. Katherine no more
Shall be called ‘Queen’, but ‘Princess Dowager’,
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And ‘widow to Prince Arthur’.
NORFOLK This same Cranmer’s
A worthy fellow, and hath ta’en much pain
In the King’s business.
SUFFOLK He has, and we shall see him
For it an archbishop.
NORFOLK So I hear.
SUFFOLK ’Tis so.
Enter WOLSEY and CROMWELL.
The Cardinal.
NORFOLK Observe, observe: he’s moody.
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[They stand apart.]
WOLSEY The packet, Cromwell: gave’t you the King?
CROMWELL
To his own hand, in’s bedchamber.
WOLSEY Looked he
O’th’ inside of the paper?
CROMWELL Presently
He did unseal them, and the first he viewed,
He did it with a serious mind; a heed
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Was in his countenance. You he bade
Attend him here this morning.
WOLSEY Is he ready
To come abroad?
CROMWELL I think by this he is.
WOLSEY Leave me a while. Exit Cromwell.
It shall be to the Duchess of Alençon,
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The French King’s sister: he shall marry her.
Anne Bullen? No, I’ll no Anne Bullens for him:
There’s more in’t than fair visage. Bullen?
No, we’ll no Bullens. Speedily I wish
To hear from Rome. The Marchioness of Pembroke?
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NORFOLK He’s discontented.
SUFFOLK Maybe he hears the King
Does whet his anger to him.
SURREY Sharp enough,
Lord, for thy justice.
WOLSEY
The late Queen’s gentlewoman? A knight’s daughter
To be her mistress’ mistress? The Queen’s Queen?
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This candle burns not clear. ’Tis I must snuff it;
Then out it goes. What though I know her virtuous
And well-deserving? Yet I know her for
A spleeny Lutheran, and not wholesome to
Our cause, that she should lie i’th’ bosom of
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Our hard-ruled King. Again, there is sprung up
An heretic, an arch-one, Cranmer, one
Hath crawled into the favour of the King
And is his oracle.
NORFOLK He is vexed at something.
Enter KING, reading of a schedule, and LOVELL.
SURREY
I would ’twere something that would fret the string,
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The master-cord on’s heart.
SUFFOLK The King, the King.
KING What piles of wealth hath he accumulated
To his own portion! And what expense by th’hour
Seems to flow from him! How i’th’ name of thrift
Does he rake this together? – Now, my lords,
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Saw you the Cardinal?
NORFOLK My lord, we have
Stood here observing him. Some strange commotion
Is in his brain. He bites his lip, and starts,
Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground,
Then lays his finger on his temple; straight
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Springs out into fast gait; then stops again,
Strikes his breast hard, and anon he casts
His eye against the moon. In most strange postures
We have seen him set himself.
KING It may well be
There is a mutiny in’s mind. This morning,
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Papers of state he sent me to peruse
As I required; and wot you what I found
There – on my conscience, put unwittingly?
Forsooth, an inventory, thus importing
The several parcels of his plate, his treasure,
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Rich stuffs and ornaments of household, which
I find at such proud rate that it outspeaks
Possession of a subject.
NORFOLK It’s heaven’s
will;
Some spirit put this paper in the packet
To bless your eye withal.
KING If we did think
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His contemplation were above the earth
And fixed on spiritual object, he should still
Dwell in his musings. But I am afraid
His thinkings are below the moon, not worth
His serious considering.
[King takes his seat; and whispers Lovell, who goes to
the Cardinal.]
WOLSEY Heaven forgive me.
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[to the King] Ever God bless your highness.
KING Good my lord,
You are full of heavenly stuff, and bear the inventory
Of your best graces in your mind, the which
You were now running o’er. You have scarce time
To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span
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To keep your earthly audit. Sure, in that
I deem you an ill husband, and am glad
To have you therein my companion.
WOLSEY Sir,
For holy offices I have a time; a time
To think upon the part of business which
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I bear i’th’ state; and nature does require
Her times of preservation which, perforce,
I, her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal,
Must give my tendance to.
KING You have said well.
WOLSEY And ever may your highness yoke together,
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As I will lend you cause, my doing well
With my well saying.
KING ’Tis well said again,
And ’tis a kind of good deed to say well –
And yet words are no deeds. My father loved you:
He said he did, and with his deed did crown
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His word upon you. Since I had my office,
I have kept you next my heart, have not alone
Employed you where high profits might come home,
But pared my present havings to bestow
My bounties upon you.
WOLSEY [aside] What should this mean?
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SURREY [aside] The Lord increase this business!
KING Have I not made you
The prime man of the state? I pray you tell me
If what I now pronounce you have found true,
And, if you may confess it, say withal
If you are bound to us or no. What say you?
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WOLSEY My sovereign, I confess your royal graces,
Showered on me daily, have been more than could
My studied purposes requite, which went
Beyond all man’s endeavours. My endeavours
Have ever come too short of my desires,
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Yet filed with my abilities. Mine own ends
Have been mine so that evermore they pointed
To th’ good of your most sacred person and
The profit of the state. For your great graces
Heaped upon me – poor undeserver – I
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Can nothing render but allegiant thanks;
My prayers to heaven for you; my loyalty,
Which ever has and ever shall be growing,
Till death, that winter, kill it.
KING Fairly answered:
A loyal and obedient subject is
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Therein illustrated. The honour of it
Does pay the act of it, as i’th’ contrary
The foulness is the punishment. I presume
That as my hand has opened bounty to you,
My heart dropped love, my power rained honour,
more
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On you than any, so your hand and heart,
Your brain, and every function of your power,
Should, notwithstanding that your bond of duty,
As ’twere in love’s particular, be more
To me, your friend, than any.
WOLSEY I do profess
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That for your highness’ good I ever laboured
More than mine own that am, have and will be.
Though all the world should crack their duty to you
And throw it from their soul – though perils did
Abound as thick as thought could make ’em, and
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Appear in forms more horrid – yet my duty,
As doth a rock against the chiding flood,
The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works Page 254
