1 Gent. O, this is full of pity!-Sir, it calls, I fear, too many curfes on their heads,

That were the authors.

2 Gent.

If the duke be guiltless

'Tis full of woe: yet I can give you inkling Of an enfuing evil, if it fall,

Greater than this.

I Gent.

Good angels keep it from us!

What may it be? You do not doubt my faith, fir? 2 Gent. This fecret is fo weighty, 'twill require A ftrong faith to conceal it.

I Gent.

I do not talk much.

2 Gent.

Let me have it;

I am confident;

You fhall, fir: Did you not of late days hear

A buzzing, of a separation

Between the king and Katharine ?

Yes, but it held not:

I Gent.
For when the king once heard it, out of anger
He fent command to the lord mayor, straight
To stop the rumour, and allay those tongues
That durft difperfe it.

2 Gent.
But that flander, fir,
Is found a truth now: for it grows again
Fresher than e'er it was; and held for certain,
The king will venture at it. Either the cardinal,
Or fome about him near, have, out of malice
To the good queen, poffefs'd him with a fcruple
That will undo her: To confirm this too,
Cardinal Campeius is arriv'd, and lately;
As all think, for this business.

For not bestowing on him, at his asking,

The archbishoprick of Toledo, this is purpos'd.

2 Gent. I think, you have hit the mark: But is't not cruel,

That the fhould feel the fmart of this? The cardinal

Will have his will, and the must fall.

Enter the Lord Chamberlain, reading a letter,

Cham. My lord,-The horses your lordship sent for, with all the care I had, I farw well chofen, ridden, and furnished. They were young, and handsome; and of the best breed in the north. When they were ready to fet out for London, a man of my lord cardinal's, by commission, and main power, took’em from me; with this reafon,—His mafter would be served before a fubject, if not before the king: which stopp'd our mouths, fir.

I fear, he will, indeed: Well, let him have them;
He will have all, I think.

Cham.

Full of fad thoughts and troubles.

Nor.

I left him private,

What's the cause?

Cham. It seems, the marriage with his brother's wife Has crept too near his confcience.

Suf.

Has crept too near another lady.

Nor.

No, his confcience

'Tis fo;

This is the cardinal's doing, the king-cardinal:
That blind priest, like the eldest fon of fortune,
Turns what he lift. The king will know him one day.
Suf. Pray God, he do! he'll never know himself elfe.
Nor. How holily he works in all his business!

And with what zeal! For, now he has crack'd the league
Between us and the emperor, the queen's great nephew,
He dives into the king's foul; and there scatters
Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience,
Fears, and defpairs, and all these for his marriage:
And, out of all these to restore the king,
He counfels a divorce: a lofs of her,
That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years
About his neck, yet never lost her lustre;
Of her, that loves him with that excellence
That angels love good men with; even of her,
That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls,
Will bless the king: And is not this courfe pious?

Cham. Heaven keep me from such counsel! 'Tis most

true,

These news are every where; every tongue speaks them,
And every true heart weeps for't: All, that dare
Look into these affairs, fee this main end,-

'The French king's fifter. Heaven will one day open
The king's eyes, that fo long have slept upon

This bold bad man.

Suf.

And free us from his flavery.

Nor. We had need pray,

And heartily, for our deliverance;

Or this imperious man will work us all
From princes into pages: all men's honours
Lie in one lump before him, to be fashion'd
Into what pitch he please.

Suf.
For me, my lords,
I love him not, nor fear him; there's my creed:
As I am made without him, so I'll stand,

If the king please; his curfes and his bleffings
Torch me alike, they are breath I not believe in.
I knew him, and I know him; fo I leave him
To him, that made him proud, the pope.

Nor.

Let's in ; And, with fome other bufinefs, put the king From these fad thoughts, that work too much upon him: My lord, you'll bear us company?

Excufe me;

Cham.
The king hath sent me otherwhere befides,
You'll find a molt unfit time to disturb him:
Health to your lordships.

Nor.

Thanks, my good lord chamberlain. [Exit Lord Chamberlain.

NORFOLK opens a folding-door. The King is difco-vered fitting, and reading penfively.

Suf. How fad he looks! fure, he is much afflicted.
K. Hen. Who is there? ha?

Nor.

'Pray God, he be not angry.

K. Hen. Who's there, I fay? How dare you thrust your

felves

Into my private meditations ?

Who am I? ha?

Nor. A gracious king, that pardons all offences Malice ne'er meant: our breach of duty, this way, Is bufinefs of eftate; in which, we come

To know your royal pleasure.

K. Hen.

You are too bold;

Go to; I'll make ye know your times of business:
Is this an hour for temporal affairs? ha?—

Enter WOLSEY and CAMPEIUS.

Who's there? my good lord cardinal ?-O my Wolfey, The quiet of my wounded conscience,

Thou art a cure fit for a king.-You're welcome,

[To CAMPEIUS.

Moft learned reverend fir, into our kingdom;
Use us, and it :-My good lord, have great care
I be not found a talker.

Wol.

Sir, you cannot.

[TO WOLSEY.

I would, your grace would give us but an hour
Of private conference.

K. Hen.

Nor. This prieft has no pride in him?

Suf.

We are bufy; go.

[To NORFOLK and SUFFOLK.

Not to speak of;

Afide.

I would not be fo fick though, for his place:

But this cannot continue.

Nor.

I'll venture one heave at him.

Suf.

If it do,

I another.

[Exeunt NORFOLK and SUFFOLK.

Wol. Your grace has given a precedent of wisdom

Above all princes, in committing freely