And want of wisdom, you, that best should teach us, Have misdemean'd yourself, and not a little, Toward the king first, then his laws, in filling The whole realm, by your teaching, and your chaplains, (For so we are inform'd,) with new opinions, Divers, and dangerous; which are heresies, And, not reform'd, may prove pernicious. Gar. Which reformation must be sudden too, My noble lords: for those, that tame wild horses, Pace them not in their hands to make them gentle; But stop their mouths with stubborn bits, and sput them, Till they obey the manage. If we suffer (Out of our easiness, and childish pity To one man's honour) this contagious sickness, Of the whole state: as, of late days, our neighbours, Yet freshly pitied in our memories. Cran. My good lords, hitherto, in all the progress Both of my life and office, I have labour'd, And with no little study, that my teaching, And the strong course of my authority, Might go one way, and safely; and the end 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 publick peace, than I do. 'Pray heaven, the king may never find a heart Be what they will, may stand forth face to face, Suf. Nay, my lord, That cannot be; you are a counsellor, And, by that virtue, no man dare accuse you. Gar. My lord, because we have business of more moment, 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, More than, I fear, you are provided for. Cran. Ah, my good lord of Winchester, I thank you, You are always my good friend; if you will pass, I make as little doubt, as you do conscience For what they have been: 'tis a cruelty, Gar. Good master Secretary, I cry your honour mercy; you may, worst Of all this table, say so. Crom. Why, my lord? Gar. Do not I know you for a favourer Of this new sect? ye are not sound. Crom. Gar. Not sound, I say. Crom. Not sound? 'Would you were half so honest! Men's prayers then would seek you, not their fears. Gar. I shall remember this bold language. Remember your bold life too. Chan. Forbear, for shame, my lords. Gar. Crom. Do. This is too much; I have done. And I. Chan. Then thus for you, my lord,-It stands agreed, I take it, by all voices, that forthwith You be convey'd to the Tower a prisoner; All. We are. Cran. Is there no other way of mercy, But I must needs to the Tower, my lords? Gur. What other Would you expect? You are strangely troublesome. Let some o'the guard be ready there. 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. Sur. 'Tis no counterfeit. Suf. 'Tis the right ring, by heaven: I told ye all, When we first put this dangerous stone a rolling, "Twould fall upon ourselves. Nor. Do you think, my lords, The king will suffer but the little finger Of this man to be vex'd? Cham. "Tis now too certain : How much more is his life in value with him? 'Would I were fairly out on't. Crom. My mind gave me, In seeking tales, and informations, Against this man, (whose honesty the devil Ye blew the fire that burns ye: Now have at ye. Enter King, frowning on them; takes his seat. Gar. Dread sovereign, how much are we bound to heaven In daily thanks, that gave us such a prince; His royal self in judgment comes to hear The cause betwixt her and this great offender. K. Hen. You were ever good at sudden com mendations, Bishop of Winchester. But know, I come not Good man, [To Cranmer.] sit down. Now let me see the proudest He, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee: |