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LOVELL.

I must to him too,

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

GARDINER.

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.

LOVELL.

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.

GARDINER.

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.

LOVELL.

Methinks I could

Cry thee amen; and yet my conscience says

She's a good creature, and, sweet lady, does

Deserve our better wishes.

GARDINER.

But, sir, sir-

Hear me, Sir Thomas. Y'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.

LOVELL.

Now, sir, you speak of two

The most remark'd i' th' kingdom. As for Cromwell,

Beside that of the Jewel House, is made Master

O' th' Rolls, and the King's secretary; further, sir,

Stands in the gap and trade of moe preferments,

With which the time will load him. Th' Archbishop

Is the King's hand and tongue, and who dare speak

One syllable against him?

GARDINER.

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

Incens'd the lords o' th' 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 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-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.

LOVELL.

Many good nights, my lord; I rest your servant.

Exeunt GARDINER and

PAGE

Enter the KING and the DUKE OF SUFFOLK

KING.

Charles, I will play no more to-night;

My mind's not on't; you are too hard for me.

SUFFOLK.

Sir, I did never win of you before.

KING.

But little, Charles;

Nor shall not, when my fancy's on my play.

Now, Lovell, from the Queen what is the news?

LOVELL.

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 great'st humbleness, and desir'd your Highness

Most heartily to pray for her.

KING.

What say'st thou, ha?

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

LOVELL.

So said her woman; and that her suff'rance made

Almost each pang a death.

KING.

Alas, good lady!

SUFFOLK.

God safely quit her of her burden, and

With gentle travail, to the gladding of

Your Highness with an heir!

KING.

'Tis midnight, Charles;

Prithee to bed; and in thy pray'rs remember

Th' estate of my poor queen. Leave me alone,

For I must think of that which company

Will not be friendly to.

SUFFOLK.

I wish your Highness

A quiet night, and my good mistress will

Remember in my prayers.

KING.

Charles, good night. Exit

SUFFOLK

Enter SIR ANTHONY DENNY

Well, sir, what follows?

DENNY.

Sir, I have brought my lord the Archbishop,

As you commanded me.

KING.

Ha! Canterbury?

DENNY.

Ay, my good lord.

KING.

'Tis true. Where is he, Denny?

DENNY.

He attends your Highness' pleasure.

KING.

Bring him to us. Exit

DENNY

LOVELL.

[Aside] This is about that which the bishop spake.

I am happily come hither.

Re-enter DENNY, With CRANMER

KING.

Avoid the gallery. [LOVELL seems to

stay]

Ha! I have said. Be gone.

What! Exeunt LOVELL and

DENNY

CRANMER.

[Aside]