And, sure, those men are happy that shall have them. The last is, for my men ;-they are the poorest, These are the whole contents :-and, good my lord, By that you love the dearest in this world, As you wish Christian peace to souls departed, Stand these poor people's friend, and urge the king To do me this last right. Cap. By heaven, I will; Or let me lose the fashion of a man! Kath. I thank you, honest lord. Remember me In all humility unto his highness: Say, his long trouble now is passing Out of this world: tell him, in death I bless'd him, For so I will.-Mine eyes grow dim.-Farewell, Let me be used with honour; strew me over ACT V. SCENE I.-London. A Gallery in the Enter GARDINER, Bishop of Winchester, a Page with a torch before him. I Gardiner. 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 Enter Sir THOMAS LOVELL. Whither so late? Lov. Good hour of night, sir Thomas ! Came you from the king, my lord? Gar.' I did, sir Thomas; and left him at 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 dispatch 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 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,"Twill 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 prefer ments, 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 ventured To speak my mind of him : and, indeed, this day, A most arch heretic, a pestilence That does infect the land: with which they moved 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, 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 My mind's not on't, you are too hard for me. Nor shall not, when my fancy's on my play.— 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 suffer ance made Almost each pang a death. K. Hen. Alas, good lady! Suf. God safely quit her of her burden, and With gentle travail, to the gladding of Your highness with an heir! K. Hen. 'Tis midnight, Charles, Pr'ythee to bed; and in thy prayers remember I wish your highness mistress will Charles, good night. [Exit SUFFOLK. Enter Sir ANTHONY DENNY. Well, sir, what follows? Den. Sir, I have brought my lord the arch bishop, Lov. [aside.] This is about that which the bishop spake ; I am happily come hither. Re-enter DENNY, with CRANMER. K. Hen. Avoid the gallery. [LOVELL seems to stay |