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Out of this world: tell him, in death I bless'd him,
For so I will.-Mine eyes grow dim.-Farewell,
My lord.-Griffith, farewell.-Nay, Patience,
You must not leave me yet. I must to bed;
Call in more women.- -When I am dead, good wench,
Let me be us'd with honour; strew me over
With maiden flowers, that all the world may know.
I was a chaste wife to my grave: embalm me,
Then lay me forth: although unqueen'd, yet like
A queen, and daughter to a king, inter me.
I can no more.

[Exeunt, leading KATHARINE

ACT V.

SCENE I.-A Gallery in the Palace.

Enter GARDINER, Bishop of Winchester, a Page with a torch before him.

GAR. It 's one o'clock, boy, is 't not?

Boy.

It hath struck.

GAR. These should be hours for necessities, Not for delights; times to repair our nature With comforting repose, and not for us

To waste these times.

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GAR. I did, sir Thomas; and left him at primero

With the duke of Suffolk.

Lov.

I must to him too,

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

GAR. Not yet, sir Thomas Lovell. What's the matter?

It seems you are in haste: an if there be

No great offence belongs to 't, give your friend

Some touch of your late business: Affairs that walk

(As, they say, spirits do) at midnight, have In them a wilder nature, than the business That seeks despatch by day.

Lov.

My lord, I love you; And durst commend a secret to your ear

Much weightier than this work. The queen 's in labour, They say, in great extremity; and fear'd,

She 'll with the labour end.

GAR.

The fruit she goes with,

I pray for heartily; that it may find

Good time, and live; but for the stock, sir Thomas,
I wish it grubb'd up now.

Lov.
Methinks, I could
Cry the amen; and yet my conscience says
She's a good creature, and, sweet lady, does
Deserve our better wishes.

GAR.
But, sir, sir,-
Hear me, sir Thomas: You are a gentleman
Of mine own way; I know you wise, religious;
And, let me tell you, it will ne'er be well,-
"T will not, sir Thomas Lovell, take 't of me,—
Till Cranmer, Cromwell, her two hands, and she,
Sleep in their graves.

Lov.
Now, sir, you speak of two
The most remark'd i' the kingdom. As for Cromwell,-
Beside that of the jewel-house, he 's made master
O' the rolls, and the king's secretary; further, sir,
Stands in the gap and trade of more preferments,
With which the time will load him: The archbishop
Is the king's hand and tongue: And who dare speak
One syllable against him?

GAR.

Yes, yes, sir Thomas, There are that dare; and I myself have ventur'd To speak my mind of him: and, indeed, this day, Sir, (I may tell it you,) I think I have

Insens'd the lords o' the council, that he is

(For so I know he is, they know he is)

A most arch heretic, a pestilence

That does infect the land: with which they, mov'd,
Have broken with the king; who hath so far

Given ear to our complaint, (of his great grace
And princely care, foreseeing those fell mischiefs
Our reasons laid before him,) he hath commanded,
To-morrow morning to the council-board
He be convented. He's a rank weed, sir Thomas,
And we must root him out. From your affairs

I hinder you too long: good night, sir Thomas.
Lov. Many good nights, my lord; I rest your servant.
[Exeunt GARDINER and Page.
As LOVELL is going out, enter the KING, and the Duke
OF SUFFOLK.

K. HEN. Charles, I will play no more to-night;
My mind 's not on 't, you are too hard for me.
SUF. Sir, I did never win of you before.
K. HEN. But little, Charles;

Nor shall not, when my fancy's on my play.-
Now, Lovell, from the queen what is the news?
Lov. I could not personally deliver to her
What you commanded me, but by her woman
I sent your message; who return'd her thanks
In the greatest humbleness, and desir'd your highness
Most heartily to pray for her.

K. HEN.

What say'st thou? ha!

To pray for her? what, is she crying out?

Lov. So said her woman; and that her sufferance made Almost each pang a death.

K. HEN.

Alas, good lady!

SUF. God safely quit her of her burthen, and

With gentle travail, to the gladding of

Your highness with an heir!

K. HEN.

"T is midnight, Charles,

Prithee to bed; and in thy prayers remember

The estate of my poor queen. Leave me alone;

For I must think of that which company

Will not be friendly to.

SUF.

I wish your highness

A quiet night, and my good mistress will
Remember in my prayers.

K. HEN.

Charles, good night. [Exeunt SUFT.

Enter SIR ANTHONY DENNY.

Well, sir, what follows?

DEN. Sir, I have brought my lord the archbishop, As you commanded me.

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DEN. He attends your highness' pleasure.
K. HEN.
Lov. This is about that which the bishop spake;

I am happily come hither.

K. HEN.

"T is true: Where is he, Denny?

Bring him to us. [Exit DENNY.

[Aside.

Avoid the gallery.

[LOVELL seems to stay.

[Exeunt LOVELL and DENNY.

All's not well.

Re-enter DENNY, with CRANMER.

Ha!-I have said.-Be gone.

What!

CRAN. I am fearful :-Wherefore frowns he thus?

T is his aspect of terror.

K. HEN. How now, my lord? You do desire to know Wherefore I sent for you.

CRAN.

It is my duty

'Pray you, arise,

To attend your highness' pleasure.

K. HEN.

My good and gracious lord of Canterbury.

Come, you and I must walk a turn together;

I have news to tell you: Come, come, give me your hand.
Ah, my good lord, I grieve at what I speak,
And am right sorry to repeat what follows;
I have, and most unwillingly, of late
Heard many grievous, I do say, my lord,

Grievous complaints of you; which, being considered,

Have mov❜d us and our council, that you shall
This morning come before us; where, I know,
You cannot with such 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 fits we thus proceed, or else no witness

Would come against you.

CRAN.

I humbly thank your highness; And am right glad to catch this good occasion

Most thoroughly to be winnow'd, where my chaff
And corn shall fly asunder: for, I know,

There's none stands under more calumnious tongues
Than I myself, poor man.

K. HEN.

Stand up, good Canterbury;
Thy truth, and thy integrity, is rooted

In us thy friend: Give me thy hand, stand up;
Prithee, let's walk. Now, by my holy-dame,
What manner of man are you? My lord, I look'd
You would have given me your petition, that
I should have ta'en some pains to bring together
Yourself and your accusers; and to have heard you
Without indurance further.

CRAN.

Most dread liege,

The good I stand on is my truth and honesty;
If they shall fail, I, with mine enemies,

Will triumph o'er my person; which I weigh not,
Being of those virtues vacant.

What can be said against me.

K. HEN.

I fear nothing

Know you not

How your state stands i' the world, with the whole world?
Your enemies are many, and not small; their practices
Must bear the same proportion; and not ever

The justice and the truth o' the question carries
The due o' the verdict with it: At what ease
Might corrupt minds procure knaves as corrupt
To swear against you? such things have been done.
You are potently oppos'd; and with a malice
Of as great size. Ween you of better luck,
I mean, in perjur'd witness, than your Master,
Whose minister you are, whiles here he liv'd
Upon this naughty earth? Go to, go to;
You take a precipice for no leap of danger,
And woo your own destruction.

CRAN.
God, and your majesty,
Protect mine innocence, or I fall into
The trap is laid for me!

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