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The Complete Works of William Shakespeare - Israel Gollancz William Shakespeare [1238]

By Root 19800 0
gave me,

In seeking tales and informations

Against this man-whose honesty the devil

And his disciples only envy at-

Ye blew the fire that burns ye. Now have at ye!

Enter the KING frowning on them; he takes his seat

GARDINER.

Dread sovereign, how much are we bound to heaven

In daily thanks, that gave us such a prince;

Not only good and wise but most religious;

One that in all obedience makes the church

The chief aim of his honour and, to strengthen

That holy duty, out of dear respect,

His royal self in judgment comes to hear

The cause betwixt her and this great offender.

KING.

You were ever good at sudden commendations,

Bishop of Winchester. But know I come not

To hear such flattery now, and in my presence

They are too thin and bare to hide offences.

To me you cannot reach you play the spaniel,

And think with wagging of your tongue to win me;

But whatsoe'er thou tak'st me for, I'm sure

Thou hast a cruel nature and a bloody.

[To CRANMER] Good man, sit down. Now let me see the proudest

He that dares most but wag his finger at thee.

By all that's holy, he had better starve

Than but once think this place becomes thee not.

SURREY.

May it please your Grace-

KING.

No, sir, it does not please me.

I had thought I had had men of some understanding

And wisdom of my Council; but I find none.

Was it discretion, lords, to let this man,

This good man-few of you deserve that title-

This honest man, wait like a lousy footboy

At chamber door? and one as great as you are?

Why, what a shame was this! Did my commission

Bid ye so far forget yourselves? I gave ye

Power as he was a councillor to try him,

Not as a groom. There's some of ye, I see,

More out of malice than integrity,

Would try him to the utmost, had ye mean;

Which ye shall never have while I live.

CHANCELLOR.

Thus far,

My most dread sovereign, may it like your Grace

To let my tongue excuse all. What was purpos'd

concerning his imprisonment was rather-

If there be faith in men-meant for his trial

And fair purgation to the world, than malice,

I'm sure, in me.

KING.

Well, well, my lords, respect him;

Take him, and use him well, he's worthy of it.

I will say thus much for him: if a prince

May be beholding to a subject,

Am for his love and service so to him.

Make me no more ado, but all embrace him;

Be friends, for shame, my lords! My Lord of Canterbury,

I have a suit which you must not deny me:

That is, a fair young maid that yet wants baptism;

You must be godfather, and answer for her.

CRANMER.

The greatest monarch now alive may glory

In such an honour; how may I deserve it,

That am a poor and humble subject to you?

KING.

Come, come, my lord, you'd spare your spoons. You shall have

Two noble partners with you: the old Duchess of Norfolk

And Lady Marquis Dorset. Will these please you?

Once more, my Lord of Winchester, I charge you,

Embrace and love this man.

GARDINER.

With a true heart

And brother-love I do it.

CRANMER.

And let heaven

Witness how dear I hold this confirmation.

KING.

Good man, those joyful tears show thy true heart.

The common voice, I see, is verified

Of thee, which says thus: 'Do my Lord of Canterbury

A shrewd turn and he's your friend for ever.'

Come, lords, we trifle time away; I long

To have this young one made a Christian.

As I have made ye one, lords, one remain;

So I grow stronger, you more honour gain.

Exeunt

ACT V. SCENE 4.

The palace yard

Noise and tumult within. Enter PORTER and his MAN

PORTER.

You'll leave your noise anon, ye rascals. Do you

take the court for Paris garden? Ye rude slaves, leave your gaping.

[Within: Good master porter, I belong to th' larder.]

PORTER.

Belong to th' gallows, and be hang'd, ye rogue! Is

this a place to roar in? Fetch me a dozen crab-tree staves,

and strong ones; these are but switches to 'em. I'll scratch

your heads. You must be seeing christenings? Do you look

for ale and cakes here, you rude rascals?

MAN.

Pray, sir, be patient; 'tis as much impossible,

Unless we sweep 'em from the door

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