KING Now by thy looks
I guess thy message. Is the Queen delivered?
Say ‘Ay, and of a boy’.
OLD LADY Ay, ay, my liege,
And of a lovely boy. The God of heaven
Both now and ever bless her: ’tis a girl
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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.
KING Lovell.
LOVELL Sir?
KING Give her an hundred marks. I’ll to the Queen.
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Exeunt King and Lovell.
OLD LADY
An hundred marks? By this light, I’ll ha’ more.
An ordinary groom is for such payment.
I will have more or scold it out of him.
Said I for this the girl was like to him? I’ll
Have more, or else unsay’t; and now, while ’tis hot,
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I’ll put it to the issue.
Exit Old Lady.
5.2 Enter CRANMER, Archbishop of Canterbury.
CRANMER
I hope I am not too late, and yet the gentleman
That was sent to me from the Council prayed me
To make great haste. All fast? What means this? Ho!
Who waits there?
Enter [Door] Keeper.
Sure you know me?
KEEPER Yes, my lord,
But yet I cannot help you.
CRANMER Why?
KEEPER Your grace
5
Must wait till you be called for.
Enter Doctor BUTTS.
CRANMER So.
BUTTS [aside] This is a piece of malice. I am glad
I came this way so happily. The King
Shall understand it presently. Exit Butts.
CRANMER [aside] ’Tis Butts,
The King’s physician. As he passed along,
10
How earnestly he cast his eyes upon me.
Pray heaven he sound 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
15
Wait else at door, a fellow Councillor
’Mong boys, grooms and lackeys. But their pleasures
Must be fulfilled, and I attend with patience.
Enter the KING and BUTTS at a window above.
BUTTS I’ll show your grace the strangest sight –
KING What’s that, Butts?
BUTTS
– I think your highness saw this many a day.
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KING 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.
KING Ha? ’Tis he indeed.
Is this the honour they do one another?
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’Tis well there’s one above ’em yet. I had thought
They had 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 –
30
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.
A council table brought in with chairs and stools and placed
under the state. Enter Lord CHANCELLOR, places himself at
the upper end of the table, on the left hand; a seat being left
void above him, as for Canterbury’s seat. Duke of
SUFFOLK, Duke of NORFOLK, SURREY, Lord
CHAMBERLAIN, GARDINER seat themselves in order on each
side; CROMWELL at lower end, as secretary.
CHANCELLOR Speak to the business, master secretary.
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Why are we met in Council?
CROMWELL Please your honours,
The chief cause concerns his grace of Canterbury.
GARDINER Has he had knowledge of it?
CROMWELL Yes.
NORFOLK Who waits there?
KEEPER Without, my noble lords?
GARDINER Yes.
KEEPER My lord Archbishop,
And has done half an hour to know your pleasures.
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CHANCELLOR Let him come in.
KEEPER Your grace may enter now.
[Cranmer approaches the council table.]
CHANCELLOR
My good lord Archbishop, I’m very sorry
To sit here at this present and behold
That chair stand empty. But we all are men,
In our own natures frail, and capable
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Of our flesh – few are angels – out of which frailty
And want of wisdom, you that best should teach us
Have misdemeaned yourself, and not a little,
Toward the King first, then his laws, in filling
The whole realm, by your teaching and your chaplains’ –
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For so we are informed – with new opinions,
Diverse and dangerous, which are heresies
And, not reformed, may prove pernicious.
GARDINER Which reformation must be sudden too,
My noble lords, for those that tame wild horses
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Pace ’em not in their hands to make ’em gentle,
But stop their mouths with stubborn bits and spur ’em
Till they obey the manage. If we suffer,
Out of our easiness and childish pity
To one man’s honour, this contagious sickness,
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Farewell, all physic. And what follows then?
Commotions, uproars, with a general taint
Of the whole state, as of late days our neighbours,
The upper Germany, can dearly witness,
Yet freshly pitied in our memories.
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CRANMER My good lords, hitherto, in all the progress
Both of my life and office, I have laboured,
And with no little study, that my teaching
And the strong course of my authority
Might go one way, and safely; and the end
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Was ever to do well. Nor is there living –
I speak it with a single heart, my lords –
A man that more detests, more stirs against,
Both in his private conscience and his place,
Defacers of a public peace than I do.
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Pray heaven the King may never find a heart
With less allegiance in it. Men that make
Envy and crooked malice nourishment
Dare bite the best. I do beseech your lordships
That in this case, of justice, my accusers,
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Be what they will, may stand forth face to face
And freely urge against me.
SUFFOLK Nay, my lord,
That cannot be. You are a Councillor,
And by that virtue no man dare accuse you.
GARDINER
My lord, because we have business of more moment,
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We will be short with you. ’Tis his highness’ pleasure
And our consent, for better trial of you,
From hence you be committed to the Tower,
Where, being but a private man again,
You shall know many dare accuse you boldly –
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More than, I fear, you are provided for.
CRANMER
Ah, my good lord of Winchester, I thank you;
You ar
e always my good friend. If your will pass,
I shall both find your lordship judge and juror,
You are so merciful. I see your end:
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’Tis my undoing. Love and meekness, lord,
Become a churchman better than ambition.
Win straying souls with modesty again;
Cast none away. That I shall clear myself,
Lay all the weight ye can upon my patience,
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I make as little doubt as you do conscience
In doing daily wrongs. I could say more,
But reverence to your calling makes me modest.
GARDINER My lord, my lord, you are a sectary.
That’s the plain truth. Your painted gloss discovers,
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To men that understand you, words and weakness.
CROMWELL My lord of Winchester, you’re a little,
By your good favour, too sharp. Men so noble,
However faulty, yet should find respect
For what they have been. ’Tis a cruelty
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To load a falling man.
GARDINER Good master secretary,
I cry your honour mercy: you may worst
Of all this table say so.
CROMWELL Why, my lord?
GARDINER Do not I know you for a favourer
Of this new sect? Ye are not sound.
CROMWELL Not sound?
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GARDINER Not sound, I say.
CROMWELL Would you were half so honest!
Men’s prayers then would seek you, not their fears.
GARDINER I shall remember this bold language.
CROMWELL Do.
Remember your bold life, too.
CHANCELLOR This is too much.
Forbear, for shame, my lords.
GARDINER I have done.
CROMWELL And I.
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CHANCELLOR [to Cranmer]
Then thus for you, my lord. It stands agreed,
I take it, by all voices, that forthwith
You be conveyed to th’ Tower a prisoner,
There to remain till the King’s further pleasure
Be known unto us. Are you all agreed, lords?
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ALL We are.
CRANMER Is there no other way of mercy
But I must needs to th’ Tower, my lords?
GARDINER What other
Would you expect? You are strangely troublesome.
Let some o’th’ guard be ready there.
Enter the guard.
CRANMER For me?
Must I go like a traitor thither?
GARDINER Receive him,
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And see him safe i’th’ Tower.
CRANMER Stay, good my lords,
I have a little yet to say. Look there, my lords.
By virtue of that ring, I take my cause
Out of the gripes of cruel men and give it
To a most noble judge, the King my master.
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CHANCELLOR This is the King’s ring.
SURREY ’Tis no counterfeit.
SUFFOLK ’Tis the right ring, by heaven. I told ye all,
When we first put this dangerous stone a-rolling,
’Twould fall upon ourselves.
NORFOLK Do you think, my lords,
The King will suffer but the little finger
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Of this man to be vexed?
CHAMBERLAIN ’Tis now too certain.
How much more is his life in value with him?
Would I were fairly out on’t.
CROMWELL My mind gave me,
In seeking tales and informations
Against this man, whose honesty the devil
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And his disciples only envy at,
Ye blew the fire that burns ye. Now have at ye!
Enter KING, frowning on them. He takes his seat.
GARDINER
Dread sovereign, how much are we bound to heaven
In daily thanks, that gave us such a prince,
Not only good and wise but most religious;
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One that, in all obedience, makes the Church
The chief aim of his honour and, to strengthen
That holy duty out of dear respect,
His royal self in judgement comes to hear
The cause betwixt her and this great offender.
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KING You were ever good at sudden commendations,
Bishop of Winchester, but know I come not
The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works Page 259
