Cap. By heav'n, I will;

Or let me lofe the fashion of a man!

Cath. I thank you, honeft Lord. Remember me In all humility unto his Highness ;

And tell him, his long trouble now is paffing
Out of this world. Tell him, in death I bleft him ;
For fo I will-mine eyes grow dim. Farewel,
My LordGriffith, farewel.

-nay, Patience, You must not leave me yet. I muft to bed'Call in more women- -When I'm dead, good wench, Let me be us'd with honour; ftrew me over With maiden flow'rs, that all the world may know I was a chafte wife to my grave; embalm me, Then lay me forth; although unqueen'd, yet like A Queen, and daughter to a King, interr me. I can no more.

[Exeunt, leading Catharine.

АСТ

A CT V.

SCENE, before the Palace.

Enter Gardiner Bishop of Winchester, a Page with a torch before him, met by Sir Thomas Lovell.

Boy.

It hath ftruck.

Gard. Thefe fhould be hours for neceflities, Not for delights; times, to repair our nature With comforting repofe, and not for us

To waste these times. Good hour of night, Sir Thomas ;
Whither fo late?

Lov. Came you from the King, my Lord?
Gard. I did, Sir Thomas, and left him at Primere
With the Duke of Suffolk.

Lov. I must to him too,

Before he go to bed. I'll take my leave.

Gard. Not yet, Sir Thomas Lovell; what's the matter? It feems, you are in hafte : And if there be

No great offence belongs to't, give your friend Some touch of your late bufinefs. Affairs, that walk (As they fay, fpirits do,) at midnight, have

In them a wilder nature, than the business

That feeks dispatch by day.

Lov. My Lord, I love you :

And durft commend a fecret to your ear

Much weightier than this work. The Queen's in labour, They fay, in great extremity; 'tis fear'd,

She'll with the labour end.

Gard. The fruit fhe goes with

I pray for heartily, that it may find

Good time, and live; but for the ftock, Sir Thomas,

VOL. V.

R

I wish

I wish it grubb'd up now.

Lov. Methinks, I could

Cry the Amen; and yet my confcience fays,
She's a good creature, and (fweet lady) does
Deferve our better wishes.

Gard. But, Sir, Sir

Hear me, Sir Thomas You're a gentleman
Of mine own way; I know you wife, religious;
And, let me tell you, it will ne'er be well,
"Twill not, Sir Thomas Lovell, take't of me,
'Till Cranmer, Cromwell, her two hands, and the,
Sleep in their graves.

Lov. Now, Sir, you speak of two

The most remark'd i'th' kingdom; as for Cromwell,
Befide that of the jewel-houfe, he's made mafter
O'th' Rolls, and the King's fecretary: Further,
Stands in the gap and trade for more preferments,
With which the time will load him. Th' Archbishop
Is the King's hand, and tongue; and who dare speak
One fyllable against him?

Gard. Yes, Sir Thomas,

There are that dare; and I myself have ventur'd
To speak my mind of him; indeed, this day,
(Sir, I may tell it you,) I think, I have
Incens'd the Lords o'th' Council, that he is
(For fo I know he is, they know he is)
A moft arch heretick, a peftilence

That does infect the land; with which they mov'd,
Have broken with the King; who hath fo far
Giv'n ear to our complaint, of his great Grace
And princely care, foreseeing those fell mischiefs
Our reafons laid before him; he hath commanded,
To-morrow morning to the council board
He be convened. He's a rank weed, Sir Thomas,
And we muft root him out. From your affairs
I hinder you too long: good-night, Sir Thomas.

[Exeunt Gardiner and Page. Lov. Many good nights, my Lord; I reft your fervant.

[Exit Lovell. SCENE

SCENE changes to an Apartment in the Palace.

King

Enter King and Suffolk.

Harles, I will play no more to-night;

CH

My mind's not on't, you are too hard for me.

Suf. Sir, I did never win of you before.
King. But little, Charles;

Nor fhall not, when my fancy's on my play.

Re-enter Lovell.

Now, Lovell, from the Queen what is the news?
Lov. I could not perfonally deliver to her
What you commanded me, but by her woman
I fent your meffage; who return'd her thanks
In greatest humbleness, and begg'd your Highness
Moft heartily to pray for her.

King. What fay'ft thou! ha!

Το pray for her! what! is the crying out!

Lov. So faid her woman, and that her fuff'rance made

Almost each pang a death.

King. Alas, good lady!

Suf. God fafely quit her of her burden, and

With gentle travel, to the gladding of

Your Highness with an heir!

King. "Tis midnight, Charles;

Pr'ythee, to bed; and in thy pray'rs remember

Th' eftate of my poor Queen.

Leave me alone;

For I must think of that, which company

Would not be friendly to.

Suf. I wish your Highness

A quiet night, and my good mistress will

Remember in my prayers.

King. Charles, a good night:

Well, Sir, what follows?

[Exit Suffolk.

Enter Sir Anthony Denny.

Denny. Sir, I have brought my Lord the Arch-bishop,

As you commanded me.

King. Ha! Canterbury !

Denny. Yea, my good Lord.

Denny. He attends your Highness' pleasure.

King. 'Tis true

where is he, Denny?

[Exit Denny.

[Afide.

King. Bring him to us.

Lov. This is about that, which the Bishop spake;

I am happily come hither.

Enter Cranmer and Denny.

King. Avoid the gallery.

Ha!I have faid

What!

Cran. I am fearful

"Tis his afpect of terror.

-be gone.

[Lovell feemeth to stay:

[Exeunt Lovell and Denny.

wherefore frowns he thus ?
All's not well.

King. How now, my Lord? you do defire to know, Wherefore I fent for you.

Cran. It is my duty

T'attend your Highness' pleasure.

King. Pray you, rise;

My good and gracious Lord of Canterbury:

Come, you and I must walk a turn together:

I've news to tell you. Come, give me your hand.
Ah, my good Lord, I grieve at what I fpeak;
And am right forry to repeat what follows.
I have, and moft unwillingly, of late
Heard many grievous, I do fay, my Lord,

Grievous complaints of you; which being confider'd,
Have mov'd us and our council, that you fhall
This morning come before us; where I know,
You cannot with fuch freedom purge yourself,
But that, till further trial, in those charges
Which will require your answer, you must take
Your patience to you, and be well contented

To make your house our Tower: You a brother of us,

It