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; There to remain till the king's further pleasure Be known unto us: are you all agreed, lords? All. We are. Cran. Is there no other way of mercy, But I must needs to the Tower, my lords? Gar. What other Would you expect? you are strangely trouble some. Let some o' the guard be ready there. Cran. Stay, good my lords, I have a little yet to say. Look there, my lords; By virtue of that ring, I take my cause Cham. This is the king's ring. 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? My mind gave me, In seeking tales and informations Against this man, whose honesty the devil And his disciples only envy at, 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, Not only good and wise, but most religious: One that, in all obedience, makes the church The chief aim of his honour; and, to strengthen That holy duty, out of dear respect, His royal self in judgement comes to hear The cause betwixt her and this great offender. King. You were ever good at sudden commendations, Bishop of Winchester. But know, I come not To hear such flattery now, and in my pres ence They are too thin and bare to hide offences. To me you cannot reach you play the spaniel, And think with wagging of your tongue to win me ; But, whatsoe'er thou takest me for, I'm sure Thou hast a cruel nature and a bloody. [to Cranmer] Good man, sit down. Now let me see the proudest He, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee: By all that's holy, he had better starve Than but once think this place becomes thee not. Sur. May it please your grace, King. No, sir, it does not please me. I had thought I had had men of some under standing And wisdom of my council: but I find none. Was it discretion, lords, to let this man, This good man,—few of you deserve that title, This honest man, wait like a lousy footboy At chamber-door? and one as great as you are? Why, what a shame was this! Did my commission Bid ye so far forget yourselves? I gave ye Would try him to the utmost, had ye mean; Chan. grace To let my tongue excuse all. What was purposed Concerning his imprisonment, was rather, If there be faith in men, meant for his trial |