Suf.

For me, my lords,
I love him not, nor fear him; there's my creed:
As I am made without him, so I'll stand,

If the king please; his curses and his blessings
Touch me alike, they are breath I not believe in.
I knew him, and I know him; so I leave him
To him, that made him proud, the pope.

Nor.

Let's in; And, with some other business, put the king From these sad thoughts, that work too much upon

him:

My lord, you'll bear us company?

Cham. Excuse me; The king hath sent me other-where: besides, You'll find a most unfit time to disturb him: Health to your lordships.

Nor.

Thanks, my good lord chamberlain.
Exit Lord Chamberlain.

NORFOLK opens a folding-door. The King is discovered sitting, and reading pensively.

Suf. How sad he looks! sure, he is much afflicted. K. Hen. Who is there? ha?

Nor.

'Pray God, he be not angry.

K. Hen. Who's there, I say? How dare you thrust yourselves

Into my private meditations?

Who am I? ha?

Nor. A gracious king, that pardons all offences Malice ne'er meant: our breach of duty, this way, Is business of estate; in which, we come

To know your royal pleasure.

K. Hen.

Go to; I'll make know your

ye

You are too bold;

times of business:

Is this an hour for temporal affairs? ha?

Enter WOLSEY and CAMPEIUS.

Who's there? my good lord cardinal?-O my Wolsey,

The quiet of my wounded conscience,

Thou art a cure fit for a king.-You're welcome,
[To CAMPEIUS.
Most learned reverend sir, into our kingdom;
Use us, and it:-My good lord, have great care
I be not found a talker.2

Wol.

[TO WOLSEY.

Sir, you cannot.

I would, your grace would give us but an hour

Of private conference.

K. Hen.

Nor. This priest has no pride in him?

Suf.

Not to speak of;

Aside.

I would not be so sick though,3 for his place:
But this cannot continue.

Nor.

If it do,

I another.

I'll venture one heave at him.

Suf.

[Exeunt NORFOLK and SUFFOLK.

Wol. Your grace has given a precedent of wisdom Above all princes, in committing freely

Your scruple to the voice of Christendom:
Who can be angry now? what envy reach you?
The Spaniard, tied by blood and favour to her,
Must now confess, if they have any goodness,
The trial just and noble. All the clerks,

I mean, the learned ones, in christian kingdoms,

have great care

I be not found a talker.] I take the meaning to be, Let care be taken that my promise be performed, that my professions of welcome be not found empty talk. JOHNSON.

3 so sick though,] That is, so sick as he is proud.

Have their free voices; Rome, the nurse of judg

ment,

Invited by your noble self, hath sent

One general tongue unto us, this good man,
This just and learned priest, cardinal Campeius;
Whom, once more, I present unto your highness.
K. Hen. And, once more, in mine arms I bid
him welcome,

And thank the holy conclave for their loves;
They have sent me such a man I would have wish'd
for.

Cam. Your grace must needs deserve all strangers'

loves,

You are so noble: To your highness' hand
I tender my commission; by whose virtue,
(The court of Rome commanding,)—you, my lord
Cardinal of York, are join'd with me their servant,
In the unpartial judging of this business.

K. Hen. Two equal men. The queen shall be
acquainted

Forthwith, for what you come :-Where's Gardiner?
Wol. I know, your majesty has always lov'd her
So dear in heart, not to deny her that

A woman of less place might ask by law,
Scholars, allow'd freely to argue for her.

K. Hen. Ay, and the best, she shall have; and my favour

To him that does best; God forbid else. Cardinal,
Pr'ythee, call Gardiner to me, my new secretary;
I find him a fit fellow.
[Exit WOLSEY.

Re-enter WOLSEY, with GARDiner.

Wol. Give me your hand: much joy and favour

to you;

Have their free voices ;] The construction is, have sent their free voices; the word sent, which occurs in the next line, being understood here.

You are the king's now.

But to be commanded

Gard.

For ever by your grace, whose hand has rais'd me.

K. Hen. Come hither, Gardiner.

[Aside.

[They converse apart. Cam. My lord of York, was not one doctor Pace

In this man's place before him?

Wol.

Yes, he was.

Yes, surely.

Cam. Was he not held a learned man?
Wol.

Cam. Believe me, there's an ill opinion spread

then

Even of yourself, lord cardinal.

Wol.

How! of me?

Cam. They will not stick to say, you envied him; And, fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous, Kept him a foreign man still;' which so griev'd him, That he ran mad, and died.

Wol. Heaven's peace be with him! That's christian care enough: for living murmurers, There's places of rebuke. He was a fool;

For he would needs be virtuous: That good fellow, If I command him, follows my appointment;

I will have none so near else. Learn this, brother, We live not to be grip'd by meaner persons.

K. Hen. Deliver this with modesty to the queen. [Exit GARDINEr.

The most convenient place that I can think of,
For such receipt of learning, is Black-Friars;
There ye shall meet about this weighty business:-
My Wolsey, see it furnish'd.-O my lord
Would it not grieve an able man, to leave

So sweet a bedfellow? But, conscience, conscience,-
O, 'tis a tender place, and I must leave her. [Exeunt.

5 Kept him a foreign man still;] Kept him out of the king's presence, employed in foreign embassies.

SCENE III.

An Ante-Chamber in the Queen's Apartments.

Enter ANNE BULLEN, and an old Lady. Anne. Not for that neither;-Here's the pang that pinches:

His highness having liv'd so long with her: and she
So good a lady, that no tongue could ever
Pronounce dishonour of her,-by my life,
She never knew harm-doing;-O now, after
So many courses of the sun enthron'd,

Still growing in a majesty and pomp,-the which
To leave is a thousand-fold more bitter, than
"Tis sweet at first to acquire,-after this process,
To give her the avaunt! it is a pity

Would move a monster.

Old L.

Melt and lament for her.

Anne.

Hearts of most hard temper

O, God's will! much better,

She ne'er had known pomp: though it be temporal, Yet, if that quarrel, fortune,' do divorce

It from the bearer, 'tis a sufferance, panging

As soul and body's severing.

Old L.

She's a stranger now again.

Anne.

Must pity drop upon her.

Alas, poor lady!

So much the more

Verily,

I swear, 'tis better to be lowly born,

And range with humble livers in content,

• To give her the avaunt !] To send her away contemptuously;

to pronounce against her a sentence of ejection.

7 Yet, if that quarrel, fortune,] Perhaps for quarreller.

8

stranger now again.] Again an alien; not only no longer queen, but no longer an Englishwoman. JOHNSON.