Why are we met in council?

Crom.

Please your honors,

The chief cause concerns his grace of Canterbury.

Gar. Has he had knowlege of it?

And has done half an hour, to know your pleasures.

Chan. Let him come in.

D. Keep.

Your grace may enter now.

[Cranmer approaches the council-table.

Chan. My good lord archbishop, I am very sorry

To sit here at this present, and behold

That chair stand empty: but we all are men,

In our own natures frail, incapable;

Of our flesh few are angels; out of which frailty

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 spur them,

Till they obey the manage. If we suffer
(Out of our easiness and childish pity

To one man's honor) this contagious sickness,
Farewell, all physic! and what follows then?
Commotions, uproars, with a general taint

Of the whole state; as, of late days, our neighbors, The upper Germany, can dearly witness,

Yet freshly pitied in our memories.

Cran. My good lords, hitherto, in all the pro

gress

Both of my life and office, I have labor'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,1 my lords)
A man, that more detests, more stirs against,
Both in his private conscience and his place,
Defacers of a public peace, than I do.

Pray heaven, the king may never find a heart
With less allegiance in it! Men, that make
Envy and crooked malice nourishment,

Dare bite the best. I do beseech your lordships,
That, in this case of justice, my accusers,

Be what they will, may stand forth face to face,
And freely urge against me.

Suf.

Nay, my lord,

That cannot be: you are a counsellor ;

1 A heart void of duplicity.

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 your will pass,
I shall both find your lordship judge and juror,
You are so merciful: I see your end;

'Tis my undoing. Love and meekness, lord,
Become a churchman better than ambition:
Win straying souls with modesty again,
Cast none away. That I shall clear myself,
Lay all the weight ye can upon my patience,
I make as little doubt, as you do conscience
In doing daily wrongs. I could say more,
But reverence to your calling makes me modest.
Gar. My lord, my lord, you are a sectary;

That's the plain truth: your painted gloss dis

covers,

To men that understand you, words and weakness.

Crom. My lord of Winchester, you are a little,
By your good favor, too sharp: men so noble,
However faulty, yet should find respect
For what they have been: 'tis a cruelty,

To load a falling man.

Gar.

Good master secretary,

I cry your honor mercy: you may, worst
Of all this table, say so.

Crom.

Why, my lord?

Gar. Do not I know you for a favorer 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.

Chan. Then thus for you, my lord;-it standa

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 farther 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.

I have a little yet to say.

Stay, good my lords,
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.
Chan. 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?

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
And his disciples only envy at)

Ye blew the fire that burns ye.

Now have at ye.

Enter KING, frowning on them: he takes his seat.

Gar. Dread sovereign, how much are we bound to Heaven