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Nor.

'Tis so;

This is the cardinal's doing, the king-cardinal: That blind priest, like the eldest son of fortune, Turns what he list. The king will know him one day.

Suf. Pray God, he do! he'll never know himself

else.

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 soul; and there scatters
Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience,
Fears, and despairs, and all these for his marriage:
And, out of all these to restore the king,
He counsels a divorce: a loss 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 course 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, see this main end,

The French king's sister. Heaven will one day

open

The king's eyes, that so long have slept upon

This bold bad man.

Suf.

And free us from his slavery.

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 curses and his blessings
Touch me alike, they are breath I not believe in.
I knew him, and I know him; so I leave him
To him, that made him proud, the pope.

Nor.

Let's in;

And, with some other business, put the king
From these sad thoughts, that work too much upon

him :

My lord, you'll bear us company?

Cham.

Excuse me;

The king hath sent me otherwhere; besides,
You'll find a most 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 discovered sitting, and reading pensively.

Suf. How sad he looks! sure, he is much afflicted.

K. Hen. Who is there? ha?

Nor.

'Pray God, he be noť angry.

K. Hen. Who's there, I say? How dare you thrust yourselves

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 business of estate; 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 Wolsey,

The quiet of my wounded conscience,

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

[To Campeius.

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

Wol.

[To Wolsey.

Sir, you cannot.

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

K. Hen.

We are busy; go.

[To Norfolk, and Suffolk.

Nor. This priest has no pride in him?~

Suf.

Not to speak of;

I would not be so sick though, for his

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[Exeunt Norfolk and Suffolk.

Wol. Your grace has given a precedent of wisdom Above all princes, in committing freely

Your scruple to the voice of Christendom:
Who can be angry now? what envy reach you?
The Spaniard, tied by blood and favour to her,
Must now confess, if they have any goodness,
The trial just and noble. All the clerks,
I mean, the learned ones, in christian kingdoms,
Have their free voices; Rome, the nurse of judg-
ment,

Invited by your noble self, hath sent

One general tongue unto us, this good man,
This just and learned priest, cardinal Campeius;
Whom, once more, I present unto your highness.
K. Hen. And, once more, in mine arms I bid

him welcome,

And thank the holy conclave for their loves;
They have sent me such a man I would have wish'd

for.

Cam. Your grace must needs deserve all stran

gers' loves,

You are so noble: To your highness' hand
I tender my commission; by whose virtue,
(The court of Rome commanding,)—you, my lord
Cardinal of York, are join'd with me their servant,
In the unpartial judging of this business.

K. Hen. Two equal men. The queen shall be acquainted

Forthwith, for what you come:-Where's Gardi

ner?

Wol. I know, your majesty has always lov'd her So dear in heart, not to deny her that

A woman of less place might ask by law,
Scholars, allow'd freely to argue for her.

K. Hen. Ay, and the best, she shall have; and my favour

To him that does best; God forbid else. Cardinal,
Pr'ythee, call Gardiner to me, my new secretary;
I find him a fit fellow.
[Exit Wolsey.

Re-enter Wolsey, with 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, whose hand has rais'd me.

K. Hen. Come hither, Gardiner.

[Aside.

[They converse apart.

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?

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