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
Will fall some blessing to this land, which shall
In it be memoriz'd.2

Sur.

But, will the king Digest this letter of the cardinal's? The Lord forbid !

Nor.

Suff

There be more wasps that buzz about his nose,
Will make this sting the sooner. Cardinal Campeius
Is stolen away to Rome; hath ta'en no leave;
Has left the cause o'the king unhandled; and
Is posted, as the agent of our cardinal,
To second all his plot. I do assure you
The king cried, ha! at this.

Cham.

Now, God incense him,

And let him cry ha, louder!

Nor.

When returns Cranmer?

But, my lord,

Suff. He is return'd, in his opinions; which
Have satisfied the king for his divorce,
Together with all famous colleges

Almost in Christendom: shortly, I believe,
His second marriage shall be publish'd, and
Her coronation. Katharine no more

Shall be call'd, queen; but princess dowager,
And widow to prince Arthur.

Nor.

This same Cranmer's A worthy fellow, and hath ta'en much pain In the king's business.

Suff

He has; and we shall see him

For it, an archbishop.
Nor.

So I hear.

'Tis so.

(1) New.

(2) Made memorable.

Nor.

Enter Wolsey and Cromwell.

Observe, observe, he's moody. Wol. The packet, Cromwell, gave it you the king?

Crom. To his own hand, in his bed-chamber.
Wol. Look'd he o'the inside of the paper?

Crom.
Presently
He did unseal them; and the first he view'd,
He did it with a serious mind; a heed
Was in his countenance: You, he bade
Attend him here this morning.

Wol.

To come abroad?

Crom.

Is he ready

I think, by this he is.

Wol. Leave me a while.- [Exit Cromwell. It shall be to the duchess of Alençon,

The French king's sister: he shall marry her.-
Anne Bullen! No; I'll no Anne Bullens for him:
There is more in it than fair visage.--Bullen!
No, we'll no Bullens.-Speedily I wish

To hear from Rome.-The marchioness of Pem

Lord, for thy justice!

Wol. The late queen's gentlewoman; a knight's daughter,

To be her mistress' mistress! the queen's queen!-
This candle burns not clear: 'tis I must snuff it;
Then, out it goes.-What though I know her vir-
tuous,

And well-deserving? yet I know her for
A spleeny Lutheran; and not wholesome to
Our cause, that she should lie i'the bosom of
Our hard-rul'd king. Again, there is sprung up
A heretic, an arch one, Cranmer; one
Hath crawl'd into the favour of the king,

And is his oracle.

Nor.

He is vex'd at something.

Suff. I would, 'twere something that would fret the string,

The master-cord of his heart!

Enter the King, reading a Schedule; and Lovell.

Suff

The king, the king. K. Hen. What piles of wealth hath he accumu

lated

To his own portion! and what expense by the hour
Seems to flow from him! How, i'the name of thrift,
Does he rake this together?-Now, my lords;
Saw you the cardinal?

Nor.

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, Springs out into fast gait;2 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.

It may well be;

K. Hen. There is a mutiny in his mind. This morning, Papers of state he sent me to peruse, As I requir'd; And, wot3 you, what I found There; on my conscience, put unwittingly? Forsooth, an inventory, thus importing,The several parcels of his plate, his treasure, Rich stuffs, and ornaments of household; which find at such proud rate, that it out-speaks Possession of a subject.

Nor.

It's Heaven's will;

Some spirit put this paper in the packet,
To bless your eye withal.

'K. Hen.

If he did think

His contemplation were above the earth,

(1) An inventory.

(2) Steps.

(3) Know.

And fix'd 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.

[He takes his seat, and whispers Lovell, who
goes to Wolsey.

Wol.

Ever God bless your highness!

K. Hen.

Heaven forgive me!

Good my lord,

You are full of heavenly stuff, and bear the inven

tory

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,
To keep your earthly audit: Sure, in that
I deem you an ill husband; and am glad
To have you therein my companion.

Wol.
Sir,
For holy offices I have a time; a time
To think upon the part of business, which
I bear i'the state; and nature does require
Her times of preservation, which, perforce,
I her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal,
Must give my tendance to.

K. Hen.

You have said well. Wol. And ever may your highness yoke together, As I will lend you cause, my doing well

With my well saying!

K. Hen.

'Tis well said again; And 'tis a kind of good deed, to say well : And yet words are no deeds. My father lov'd you: He said, he did; and with his deed did crown His word upon you. Since I had my office, I have kept you next my heart; have not alone Employ'd you where high profits might come home, But par'd my present havings, to bestow

My bounties upon you.

Wol.

Sur. The Lord increase this business! [Aside.

K. Hen.

What should this mean?

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?
Wol. My sovereign, I confess, your royal graces,
Shower'd 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,
Yet, fil'd with my abilities: Mine own ends
Have been mine so, that evermore they pointed
To the good of your most sacred person, and
The profit of the state. For your great graces
Heap'd upon me, poor undeserver, I

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.

K. Hen.

Fairly answer'd; A loyal and obedient subject is

Therein illustrated: The honour of it
Does pay the act of it; as, i'the contrary,
The foulness is the punishment. I presume,
That, as my hand has open'd bounty to you,
My heart dropp'd love, my power rain'd honour,

more

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.

Wol. I do profess, That for your highness' good I ever labour'd 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 them, and Appear in forms more horrid; yet my duty, As doth the rock against the chiding flood, Should the approach of this wild river break,