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A still and quiet conscience. The king has car'd me, / And,--Pr'ythee, lead me in:
To the last penny; 'tis the king's: my robe,
I dare now call inine owu. O Cromwell, Cromwell,
Have left me naked to mine enemies. Wol. I hope, I have: I am able now, methinks, Crom. Good sir, have patience. (Out of a fortitude of soal I feel,)
So I have. Farewell To endure more miseries, and greater far,
The hopes of court! my hopes in beaven do dwell. Than my weak-bearted enemies dare offer.
[Exeunt. What news abroad?
ACT IV. Crom.
The heaviest, and the worst, SCENE I.-A Street in Westminster. Is your displeasure with the king.
Enter two Gentlemen, meeting. Wol.
God bless him!
I Gent. You are well met once again.
And so are you.
1 Gent. You come to take your stand bere, and
behold But he's a learned man. May he continue Long in bis highness' favour, and do justice
The lady Anne pass from her coronation ? For trath's sake, and his conscience; that his bones,
2 Gent. 'Tis all my business. At our last enWhen be has run his course, and sleeps in blessings,
counter, May have a tomb of orphan's tears wept on 'em!
The duke of Buckingham came from his trial. What more?
1 Gent. 'Tis very true : but that time offer'd Crom. That Cranmer is return'd with welcome,
This, general joy.
[sorrow; Install'd lord archbishop of Canterbury.
'Tis well: The citizens, Wol. That's news indeed.
I am sore, have shewn at full their royal minds; Crom. Last, that the lady Anne,
As, let them have their rights, they are ever forward Whom the king hath in secrecy long married,
In celebration of this day, with shews, This day was view'd in open, as bis queen,
Pageants, and sights of honour. Going to chapel; and the voice is now
Never greater, Only about her coronation.
Nor, I'll assure you, better taken, sir. Wol. There was the weight, that pull’d me down.
2 Gent. May I be bold to ask what that contains,
in O Cromwell,
1 Gent. The king has gone beyond me, all my glories
Yes; 'tis the list In that one woman I have lost for ever:
Of those, that claim their offices this day, No sun shall ever usher forth mine honours,
By custom of the coronation. Or gild again the noble troops, that waited
The duke of Suffolk is the first, and claims Upon my smiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell; To be high steward; next, the duke of Norfolk, I am a poor fallen man, unworthy now
He to be earl marshal; you may read the rest. To be thy lord and master: Seek the king ;
2 Gent. I thank you, sir: had I not known those That sun, I pray, may never set! I have told him
customs, What, and how true thou art: he will advance thee;
should have been beholden to your paper. Some little memory of me will stir him,
But, I beseech you, what's become of Katharine, (I know his noble nature,) not to let
The princess dowager? how goes her business? Thy hopeful service perish too : Good Cromwell,
1 Gent. That I can tell you too. The archbishop Neglect bim not; make use now, and provide
Of Canterbury, accompanied with other For thine owo future safety.
Learned and reverend fathers of his order, Crom.
O my lord,
Held a late court at Dunstable, six miles off Must I then leave you? must I needs forego From Ampthill, where the princess lay; to which So good, so noble, and so true a master?
She oft was cited by them, but appear'd not: Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron,
Aud, to be short, for not appearance, and With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord.
The king's late scruple, by the main assent The king shall have my service; but my prayers
Of all these learned men she was divorc'd, For ever, and for ever, sball be yours.
And the late marriage made of none effect: Wol. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear
Since which, she was removed to Kimbolton,
Where she remains now sick.
2 Gent. Alas, good lady!-(Trumpets.) Let's dry oureyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell;
The trumpets sound : stand close, the queen is And,—when I am forgotten, as I shall be ;
coming And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention
THE ORDER OF THE PROCESSION. Of me more must be beard of,--say, I taught thee, A lively flourish of trumpets; then, enter Say, Wolsey,--that once trod the ways of glory, 1. Two Judges.
[him. And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour, 2. Lord Chancellor, with the purse and mace before Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in ; 3. Choristers singing.
(Music.) A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it. 4. Mayor of London bearing the mace. Then Gar Mark but my fall, and that, that ruin'd me.
ter, in his coat of arms, and on his head, a Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition;
gilt copper crown. By that sin fell the angels, how can man then, 5. Marquis Dorset, bearing a sceptre of gold, on his The image of bis Maker, hope to win by't?
head u demi-coronal of gold. With kim, Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee;
the Earl of Surrey, bearing the rod of Corruption wins not more than honesty.
silver with the dove, crowned with an earl's Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace,
coronet. Collars of SS. To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not: 0. Duke of Suffolk, in his robe of estate, his coronet Let all the ends, thou aim'st at, be thy country's,
on his head, bearing a long white wand, as Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall’st, O
high-steward. With him, the Duke of NorCromwell,
folk, with the rod of marshalship, a coronet Thou fall’st a blessed martyr. Serve the king;
on his head. Collars of SS.
I know it;
7. A canopy borne by four of the Cinque-ports; Whep by the archbishop of Canterbury
under it, the Queen in her robe; in her hair She bad all the royal makings of a queen;
Laid nobly on her: which perform'd, the choir, 8. The old Duchess of Norfolk, in a coronal of With all the choicest music of the kingdom,
gold, wrought with flowers, bearing the Together sung Te Deum. So she parted,
And with the same full state pac'd back again 9. Certain Ladies or Countesses, with plain circlets To York-place, where the feast is held. of gold without flowers.
1 Gent. 2 Gent. Å royal train, believe me.—These I Must no more call it York-place, that is past :
For, since the cardinal fell, that title's lost; Who's that, that bears the sceptre?
'Tis now the king's, and callid-Whitehall. 1 Gent.
Marquis Dorset : 3 Gent. And that the earl of Surrey, with the rod.
Bat 'tis so lately alter'd, that the old name 2 Gent. A bold brave gentleman: And that Is fresh about me. The duke of Suffolk.
[should be 2 Gent.
What two reverend bishops 1 Gent.
'Tis the same; high-steward. | Were those that went on each side of the queen? 2 Gent. And that my lord of Norfolk ?
3 Genl. Stokesly and Gardiner; the 1 Gent.
Winchester, 2 Gent.
Heaven bless thee! (Newly preferr'd from the king's secretary,)
(Looking on the Queen.) The other, London. Thou hast the sweetest face I ever look'd on. 2 Gent.
He of Winchester Sir, as I have a soul, she is an angel;
Is held no great good lover of the archbishop's, Our king has all the Indies in his arms,
The virtuous Cranmer. And more, and richer, when he strains that lady: 3 Gent.
All the land knows that: I cannot blame his conscience.
However, yet there's no great breach ; when it 1 Gent. They, that bear
comes, The cloth of honour over her, are four barons Cranmer will find a friend will not shrink from him. of the Cinque-ports.
2 Gent. Who may that be, I pray you? 2 Gent. 'l'hose men are happy; and so are all, 3 Gent.
Thomas Cromwell; are near her.
A man in much esteem with the king, and truly I take it, she that carries op the train,
A worthy friend.—The king
1 Gent. It is; and all the rest are countesses. And one, already, of the privy-council.
These are stars,
2 Gent. He will deserve more. indeed;
Yes, without all doubt. And, sometimes, falling ones.
Come, gentlemen, ye shall go my way, which 1 Gent.
No more of that. Is to the court, and there ye shall be my guests; [Exit Procession, with a great flourish of Something I can command. As I walk thither, trumpets.
I'll tell ye more.
Both. You may command us, sir. [Exeunt. God save you, sir? Where have you been broil
Scene IJ,-Kimbolton. ing?
(a finger 3 Gent. Among the crowd i'the abbey; where
Enter KATHARINE, dowager, sick; led between Could not be wedg'd in more; and I am stifled
GRIFFITH and PATIENCE. With the mere rankness of their joy.
Grif. How does yoar grace? 2 Gent.
0, Griffith, sick to death : The ceremony?
My legs, like loaden branches, bow to the enrth, 3 Gent. That I did.
Willing to leave their burden: Reach a chair ;1 Gent.
How was it?
methinks, I feel a little ease. 3 Gent. Well worth the seeing.
Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thoa led'st me, 2 Gent.
Good sir, speak it to us. That the great child of honour, cardinal Wolsey, 3 Gent. As well as I am able. The rich stream Was dead? Of lords, and ladies, baving brought the queen Grif. Yes, madam; but, I think, your grace, To a prepar'd place in the choir, fell off
Out of the pain you suffer'd, gave no ear to't. A distance from ber, while her grace sat down Kath. Pr'ythee, good Griffith, tell me how he To rest a while, some half an hour, or so,
died: In a rich chair of state, opposing freely
If well, be stepp'd before me, happily, The beauty of her person to the people.
For my example. Believe me, sir, she is the goodliest woman,
Well, the voice goes, inadam: That ever lay by man: which when the people For after the stout earl Northumberland Had the full view of, such a noise arose
Arrested him at York, and brought him forward As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest, (As a man sorely tainted,) to bis answer, As loud, and to as many tunes : bats, cloaks,
He fell sick suddenly, and grew so ill, (Doublets, I think,) flew up; and had their faces He could not sit his mule. Been loose, this day they had been lost. Such joy Kath.
Alas, poor man! I never saw before. Great-bellied women,
Grif. At last, with easy roads, he came to That had not half a week to go, like rams
Leicester, In the old time of war, would shake the press, Lodg'd in the abbey; where the reverend abbot, And make them reel before them. No man living With all his convent, honourably receiv'd him ; Could say, This is my wife, there; all were woven To whom he gave these words,- father abbot, So strangely in one piece.
An old man, broken with the storms of state, 2 Gent.
But, 'pray, what follow'd ? Is come to lay his weary bones among ye ; 3 Gent. At length her grace rose, and with mo (rive him a little earth for charity! dest paces
So went to bed: where eagerly his sickness Came to the altar; where she kneel'd, and, saint like, Pursu'd him still; and, three nights after this, Cast her fair eyes to heaven, and pray'd devoutly, About the hour of eight, (which he himself Then rose again, and bow'd her to the people: Foretold, should be his last,) full of repentance,
Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows, And leave me here in wretchedness bebind ye? He gave his honours to the world again,
Grif. Madam, we are here. His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace. Kath.
It is not you I call for : Kath. So may he rest; his saults lie gently on him! Saw ye none enter, since I slept? Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak him, Grif:
None, madam. And yet with charity,-He was a man
Kath. No? Saw you not, even now, a blessed troop of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking
Invite me to a banquet; whose bright faces Himself with princes; one, that by suggestion, Cast thousand beams upon me, like the sun ? Ty'd all the kingdom: simony was fair play; They promis'd me eternal happiness;. His own opinion was his law: I'the presence And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel He would say untruths; and be ever double, I am not worthy yet to wear: I shall, Both in bis words and meaning: He was never, Assuredly. Bat where he meant to ruin, pitiful;
Grif. I am most joyful, madam, such good dreams His promises were, as he then was, mighty; Possess your fancy. But bis performance, as he is now, nothing.
Bid the music leave, Of his own body he was ill, and gave
They are harsh and heavy to me. (Music ceases.) The clergy ill example.
Do you note, Grif. Noble madam,
How much her grace is alter'd on the sudden !
Grif. Sbe is going, wench; pray, pray.
Hearen comfort her!
Enter a Messenger.
Mess. An't like your grace,-
You are a sancy fellow: He was a scholar, and a ripe, and good one;
You are to blame, Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading : Lofty, and sour, to them that lov'd him not;
Knowing, she will not lose her wonted greatness, But to those men that sought him, sweet as suinmer.
To use so rude behaviour: go to, kneel. And though he were unsatisfied in getting,
Mess. I bumbly do entreat your highness' pardon ; (Which was a sin,) yet in bestowing, madam,
My baste made me unmannerly: There is staying
A gentleman, sent from the king, to see you. He was most princely: Ever witness for him
Kath. Admit him entrance, Griffith: Bat this fellow Those twips of learning, that he rais'd in you, Ipswich, and Oxford! one of which fell with’him, Let me ne'er see again.
Exeunt Griffith and Messenger. Unwilling to outlive the good that did it; The other, though unfinish'd, yet so famous,
Re-enter GRIFFITH, with CAPUCIUS. So excellent in art, and still so rising,
If my sight fail not, That Christendom shall ever speak bis virtue. You should be lord ambassador from the emperor, His overthrow heap'd happiness upon bim; My royal nephew, and your name Capucius. For then, and not till then, he felt himself,
Cap. Madam, the same, your servant. And found the blessedness of being little:
O my lord, And, to add greater bonours to bis age
The times, and titles, now are alter'd strangely Than man could give him, he died, fearing God. With me, since first you knew me. But, I pray you,
Kath. After my death I wish no other herald, What is your pleasure with me? No other speaker of my living actions,
Noble lady, To keep mine honour from corruption,
First, mine own service to your grace; the next, But sach an honest chronicler as Griffith.
The king's request, that I would visit you; Whom I most hated living, thou hast made me, Who grieves much for your weakness, and by me With thy religious truth, and modesty,
Sends you his princely commendations, Now in his ashes honour: Peace be with him! And heartily entreats you take good comfort. Patience, be near me still; and set me lower: Kath. 0° my good lord, that comfort comes I have not long to trouble thee.--Good Griffith,
too late; Cause the musicians play me that sad note 'Tis like a pardou after execution : I nam'd my knell, whilsi I sit meditating
That gentle physic, given in time, bad cor'd me; On that celestial barmony I go to.
But now I am past all comforts here, but prayers. Sad and solemn music. [quiet, How does bis highness? Grif. She is asleep: Good wench, let's sit down Cap.
Madam, in good health. For fear we wake her;-Softly, gentle Patience. Kath. So may he ever do! and ever fourish,
When I shall dwell with worms, and my poor name The Vision. Enler, solemnly tripping one after Banish'd the kingdom !– Patience, is that letter, another, six Personages, clad in white robes, wear
I caus'd you write, yet sent away? ing on their heads garlands of bays, and golden
No, madam. vizards on their faces; branches of bays, or palm, in their hands. They first congee unto her, then
(Giving it to Katharine.) dance; and, at certain changes, the first two hold This to my lord the king.
Kath. Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliver a spare garland over her head; at which, the other
Most willing, madam. four make reverend court' sies; then the two, that
Kath. In which I have commended to his 'held the garland, deliver the same to the other next
goodness two, who observe the same order in their changes, The model of our chasteloves, his young daughter: and holding the garland over her head; which done, The dews of heaven fall thick in blessings on her! they deliver the same garland to the last two, who likewise observe the same order: at which, (as it (She is young, and of a noble modest nature:
Beseeching him, to give her virtuous breeding; were by inspiration,) she makes in her sleep signs I hope, she will deserve well;) and a little of rejoicing, and holdeth up her hands to heaven : and so in their dancing they vanish, carrying the Heaven knows how dearly. My vext poor petition
To love her for her mother's sake, that lov'd bim, garland with them. The music continues.
Is, that his noble grace would have some pity Kath. Spirits of peace, where are ye? Are ye upon my wretched women, that so long, all gone !
Have follow'd both my fortunes faithfully:
Of wbich there is not one, I dare avow,
'Twill not, sir Thomas Lovell, take't of me, (And now I should not lie,) but will deserve, Till Cranmer, Cromwell, her two hands, and she, For virtue, and true beauty of the soul,
Sleep in their graves. For honesty, and decent carriage,
Now, sir, ye speak of two A right good husband, let him be a noble; The most remark'd i' the kingdom. As for CromAnd, sure, those men are happy, that shall bave them,
well, The last is, for my men ;-they are the poorest,
Beside that of the jewel-house, he's made master Bat poverty could never draw them from me; O'the rolls, and the king's secretary; further, sir, That they may bave their wages duly paid them, Stands in the gap and trade of more preferments, And something over to remember me by:
With which the time will load him: The archIf heaven had pleas'd to have given me longer life,
[speak And able means, we had not parted thus.
Is the king's hand, and tongue; And who dare These are the whole contents :-And, good my lord, One syllable against him? By that you love the dearest in this world,
Yes, yes, sir Thomas, As you wish christian peace to souls departed, There that dare; and I myself have ventur'd Stand these poor people's friend, and urge the king To speak my mind of bim: and, indeed, this day, To do me this last right.
Şir, (I may tell it you,) I think, I have Cap.
By beaven, I will; Incens'd the lords o'th council, that he is Or let me lose the fashion of a man!
(For so I know he is, they know be is,) Kath. I thank you, honest lord. Remember me A most arch heretic, a pestilence, In all humility unto his highness :
That does infect the land : with which they moved, Say, his long trouble now is passing.
Have broken with the king ; who bath so far Out of this world: tell him, in death I bless'd him, Given ear to our complaint, (of his great grace For so I will.-Mine eyes grow dim.-Farewell, And princely care; foreseeing those fell mischiefs My lord. Griffith, farewell.-Nay, Patience,
Our reasons laid before him,) be hath commanded, You must not leave me yet. I must to bed ; To-morrow morning to the council-board Call in more women.-When I am dead, good wench, He be convented. He's a rank weed, Sir Thomas, Let me be us'd with honour; strew me over
And we must root him out. From your affairs With maiden flowers, that all the world may know I hinder you too long: good night, sir Thomas. I was a chaste wife to my grave: embalm me, Lov. Many good nights, my lord; I rest your Then lay me forth: although unqueen'd, yet like
servant. (Exeunt Gardiner and Page. A queen, and daughter to a king, inter me.
As Lovely is going out, enter the King and the I can no more. [Exeunt, leading Katharine.
Duke of SUFFOLK.
K. Hen. 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. Enter GARDINER, Bishop of WINCHESTER, 4 Page Nor shall not, when my fancy's on my play.
K. Hen. Bat little, Charles; with a torch before him, met by Sir THOMAS Now, Lovell, from the queen what
is the news ? LOVELL.
Lov. I could not personally deliver to her Gar. It's one o'clock, boy, is't not ?
What you commanded me, but by her woman Boy.
It hath struck. I sent your message ; who return'd ber thanks Gar. These should be hours for necessities, In the greatest humbleness, and desir'd your highNot for delights; times to repair our nature Most heartily to pray for her.
(ness With comforting repose, and not for us
What say'st thou? ha! To waste these times. Good hour of night, sir To pray for her ? what, is she crying out? Thomas !
Lov. So said her woman; and ibat her sufferance Whither so late?
Almost each pang a death.
(made Lov. Came you from the king, my lord ? K. Hen.
Alas, good lady? Gar. I did, sir Thomas; and left him at primero
Suf. God safely quit ber of ber burden, and With the duke of Suffolk.
With gentle travail, to the gladding of
Your highness with an heir!
'Tis midnight, Charles, Gar. Not yet, sir Thomas Lovell. What's the Pr’ythee, 10 bed; and in thy prayers remember matter?
The estate of my poor queen. Leave me alone; It seems, you are in haste; an if there be
For I must think of that, which company
I wish your highness (As, they say, spirits do) at midnight, have
A quiet night, and my good mistress will In them a wilder nature, than the business
Remember in my prayers. That seeks despatch by day.
Charles, gond night.Lov. My lord, I love you;
Exit Suffolk. And durst commend a secret to your ear
Enter Sir ANTHONY DENNY. Mach weightier than this work. The queen's in labour,
Well, sir, what follows?
Den. Sir, I have brought my lord the archbishop,
As you commanded me.
Ha! Canterbury ? I pray for beartily; that it may find
Den. Ay, my good lord.
K. Hen. 'Tis true: Where is he, Denny? Good time, and live: but for the stock, sir Thomas, I wish it grubb'd op now.
Den. He attends your bighness' pleasure.
Bring him to us. [Exit Denny.
Lov. This is about that which the bishop spake; Cry the amen; and yet my conscience says She's a good creature, and, sweet lady, does
I am happily come hither.
(A side.) Deserve our better wishes.
Re-enter DENNY, with CRANMER.
But, sir, sir,
Avoid the gallery. Hear me, sir Thomas : You are a gentleman
(Lovell seems to stay.) Of mine own way; I know you wise, religious; Ha! I have said.-Begone. And, let me tell you, it will be'er be well,
Exeunt Lovell and Denny,
Cran. I am fearful :- Wherefore frowns he thus? I swear he is true-hearted; and a soul "Tis his aspect of terror. All's not well.
None better in my kingdom.-Get you gone, K. Hen. How now, my lord? You do desire to And do as I have bid you.- [Exit Cranmer Wherefore I sent for you?
[know He has strangled Cran.
It is my duty
His language in his tears. To attend your highness' pleasure.
Enter an old Lady. K. Hen.
'Pray you, arise, Gent. (Within.) Come back, what mean you ? My good and gracious lord of Canterbury.
Lady. I'll not come back; the tidings, that I bring, Come, you and I must walk a turn together;
Will make my boldness manders. —
- Now good I have news to tell you: Come, come, give me
Fly o'er thy royal head, and sbade thy person Ah, my good lord, I grieve at what I speak, Under their blessed wings! And am right sorry to repeat what follows:
Now, by thy looks I have, and most unwillingly, of late
I guess thy message. Is the queen deliver'd? Heard many grievous, I do say, my lord,
Say, ay ; and of a boy. Grievous complaints of you; which, being con Lady.
Ay, ay, my liege; sider'd,
And of a lovely boy: The God of heaven Have mov'd us and our council, that you shall Both now and ever bless her!—'tis a girl, This morning come before us; where, I know,
Promises boys hereafter. Sir, your queen You cannot with such freedom purge yourself, Desires your visitation, and to he But that, till further trial, in those charges, Acquainted with this stranger; 'tis as like you, Which will require your answer, you must take As cherry is to cherry. Your patience to you, and be well contented
Sir. Cran. humbly thank your highness;
K. Hen. Give her an hundred marks. I'll to the And am right glad to catch this good occasion
[Erit King. Most thoroughly to be winnow'd, where my chaff Lady. An hundred marks! By this light, I'll And corn shall tly asunder; for, I know,
have more. There's none stands under more calumnious tonguez, An ordinary groom is for such payment. Than I myself, poor man.
I will have more, or scold it out of him. K. Hen.
Stand up, good Canterbury; Said I for this, the girl is like to bim? Thy truth, and thy integrity, is rooted
I will have more, or else unsay't; and now In us, thy friend: Give me thy hand, stand up; While it is hot, I'll put it to the issue. [Exeunt. Pr’ythee, let's walk. Now, by my holy dame,
Scene II.-Lobby before the Council-Chamber. What inanner of man are you? My lord, I look'd
Enter CRANMER; Servants, Door-keeper, &c. aYou would have given me your petition, that
tending I should have ta’en some pains to bring together Cran. I hope, I am not too late; and yet the Yourself and your accusers; and to have heard you
gentleman, Without indurance further.
That was sent to me from the council, pray'd me Cran.
Most dread liege, To make great haste. All fast? wbat means this! The good I stand on is my truth, and honesty.
Who waits there?-Sure, you know me? [Hoa? If they shall fail, I, with mine enemies,
Yes, my lord;
Know you not how
D. Keep. Your grace must wait till you be
Enter Doctor BUTTS.
Butts. This is a piece of malice. I am glad The justice and the truth o'the question carries
I came this way so happily: The king
Shall understand it presently, [Exit Butts.
'Tis Butts, Might corrupt minds procure knaves as corrupt
(Aside.) To swear against you? Such things have been done. The king's physician : As he past along,
How earnestly he cast his eyes upon me! You are potently oppos’d; and with a malice Of as great size. Ween you of better luck, Pray beaven, he sound not my disgrace! For certain, I mean, in perjar'd witness, than your master,
This is of purpose laid, by some that hate me, Whose minister you are, whiles here he liv'd
(God tarn their hearts! I never sought their maUpon this naughty earth? Go to, go to;
lice,). You take, a precipice for no leap of danger,
To quench mine honoar: they would shame to
Wait else at door; a fellow counsellor,
Among boys, grooms, and lackeys. But their The trap, is laid for me!
pleasures K. Hen. Be of good cheer ;
Must be fulfill'd, and I attend with patience. They shall no more pre vail, than we give way to. Enter, at a window above, the King and Butts. Keep comfort to you; and this morning see
Bults. I'll shew your grace the strangest sight, You do appear before them : if they shall chance, K. Hen.
What's that Butts ? In charging you with matters, to commit you, Butts. I think, your highness saw this many : The best persuasions to the contrary
day. Fail not to use, and with what vehemency
K. Hen. Body o'me, where is it? The occasion shall instruct you; if entreaties
There, my lord: Will render you no remedy, this ring
The high promotion of his grace of Canterbury; Deliver them, and your appeal to us
Who holds his state at door, 'mongst pursuivants, There make before them.-Look, the good man Pages and footboys. weeps!
Ha! 'Tis he, indeed : He's honest, on mine honour. God's blest inother! | Is this the honour they do one another.