I fear, he will indeed; well, let him have them; He will have all, I think. Enter to the Lord Chamberlain the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk. Nor. Well met, my Lord Chamberlain. Cham. Good day to both your Graces. Suf. How is the King employ'd? Cham. I left him private, Full of fad thoughts and troubles. Nor. What's the cause? Cham. It feems, the marriage with his brother's wife Has crept too near his confcience. Suf. No, his confcience Has crept too near another lady. This is the Cardinal's doing; the King-Cardinal: Turns what he lifts. The King will know him one day. And with what zeal? for now he has crackt the league The French King's fifter. Heav'n will one day open VOL. V. C This This bold, bad man. Suf. And free us from his flavery. Nor. We had need pray, and heartily, for deliv'rance; Or this imperious man will work us all From princes into pages; all mens honours Lye like one lump before him, to be fafhion'd Suf. For me, my lords, I love him not, nor fear him, there's my Creed: If the King please: his curfes and his bleffings Nor. Let's in. And with fome other business put the King From these fad thoughts, that work too much upon him; My lord, you'll bear us company? Cham. Excufe me, The King hath fent me other-where befides, You'll find a moft unfit time to disturb him: Health to your lordships. [Exit Lord Chamberlain. Nor. Thanks, my good Lord Chamberlain. The Scene draws, and difcovers the King fitting and reading penfively. Suf. How fad he looks! fure, he is much afflicted. Nor. Pray God, he be not angry. King. Who's there, I fay? how dare you thruft your 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. King. Ye are too bold: Go to; I'll make ye know your times of bufinefs: [felves Enter Enter Wolfey, and Campeius the Pope's Legat, with a Commiffion. Who's there? my good Lord Cardinal? O my Wolfey, The quiet of my wounded confcience ; Thou art a cure fit for a King. You're welcome, Moft learned rev'rend Sir, into our kingdom; [To CamUfe us, and it; my good lord, have great care I be not found a talker. Wol. Sir, you cannot: I would, your Grace would give us but an hour Of private Conf'rence. King. We are bufie; go. [peius. [To Norf. and Suff. Nor. This priest has no pride in hira? Suf. Not to speak of: I would not be fo fick though, for his place: But this cannot continue. Nor. If it do, I'll venture one heave at him. Suf. I another. [Exeunt Norfolk and Suffolk, Wol. Your Grace has giv'n a precedent of wisdom Your fcruple to the voice of Chriftendom: One gen'ral tongue unto us, this good man, This juft and learned prieft, Cardinal Campeius; King. And once more in mine arms I bid him welcome, I tender my commiffion; by whose virtue, (The court of Rome commanding) you, my lord Cardinal of York, are join'd with me, their fervant, King. Two equal men: the Queen fhall be acquainted A woman of lefs place might ask by law; King. Ay, and the beft, fhe fhall have; and my favour Enter Gardiner. Wol. Give me your hand; much joy and favour to you; You are the King's now. Gard. But to be commanded For ever by your Grace, whofe hand has rais'd me. King. Come hither, Gardiner, [Walks and whispers. Cam. My lord of York, was not one Doctor Pace In this man's place before him? Wol. Yes, he was. Cam. Was he not held a learned man? Wol. Yes, furely. Cam. Believe me, there's an ill opinion spread then Ev'n of your felf, lord Cardinal. Wol. How! of me? Cam. They will not ftick to fay, you envy'd him; Wol. Heav'n's peace be with him! That's christian care enough: for living murmurers, For he would needs be virtuous. That good fellow, [Exit Gardiner. The The most convenient place that I can think of, So fweet a bedfellow? but, confcience, confcience! [Exeunt. His Highness having liv'd fo long with her, and she The which to leave 's a thoufand-fold more bitter To give her the avaunt! it is a pity Would move a monster. Old L. Hearts of moft hard temper Melt and lament for her. Anne. In God's will, better She ne'er had known pomp; though't be temporal, (14) Yet if that quarrel,] The Senfe is fomewhat obfcure, and uncertain, here. Either quarrel must be underfood metaphorically, to fignify a shaft, a dart; as it is used by Chaucer; and as, among the French, they fay, un Quarreau d'arbalefte, an Arrow peculiar for the Cross-bow: or we must read, as Mr. Warburton has conjectured; Yet if that quarr'ious Fortune. And Shakespeare, I remember, fomewhere ufes this Expreffion quarr❜lous as a Weazel. C 3 as Old L.. |