Of the whole state, as of late days our neighbours,
The upper Germany, can dearly witness77, Yet freshly pitied in our memories.
CRANMER My good lords, hitherto, in all the progress
Both of my life and office, I have laboured,
And with no little study, that my teaching
And the strong course82 of my authority Might go one way, and safely: and the end
Was ever to do well: nor is there living --
I speak it with a single85 heart, my lords --
A man that more detests, more stirs against,
Both in his private conscience and his place87, Defacers of a public peace than I do:
Pray heaven the king may never find a heart
With less allegiance in it. Men that make
Envy and crooked malice nourishment
Dare bite the best. I do beseech your lordships
That in this case of justice, my accusers,
Be what they will, may stand forth face to face,
And freely urge95 against me.
SUFFOLK Nay, my lord,
That cannot be: you are a councillor,
And by that virtue98 no man dare accuse you.
GARDINER My lord, because we have business of more moment99,
We will be short100 with you. 'Tis his highness' pleasure And our consent, for better trial of you,
From hence you be committed to the Tower,
Where being but a private103 man again, You shall know many dare accuse you boldly,
More than, I fear, you are provided105 for.
CRANMER Ah, my good lord of Winchester, I thank you:
You are always my good friend: if your will pass107, I shall both find your lordship judge and juror,
You are so merciful. I see your end109: 'Tis my undoing. Love and meekness, lord,
Become111 a churchman better than ambition: Win straying souls with modesty again:
Cast none away. That I shall clear myself,
Lay all the weight ye can upon my patience,
I make as little doubt as you do conscience115
In doing daily wrongs. I could say more,
But reverence to your calling makes me modest.
GARDINER My lord, my lord, you are a sectary118,
That's the plain truth: your painted gloss discovers119
To men that understand you, words120 and weakness.
CROMWELL My lord of Winchester, you're a little,
By your good favour122, too sharp: men so noble, However faulty, yet should find respect
For what they have been: 'tis a cruelty
To load a falling man.
GARDINER Good Master Secretary,
I cry your honour mercy: you may worst127
Of all this table say so.
CROMWELL Why, my lord?
GARDINER Do not I know you for a favourer
Of this new sect? Ye are not sound131.
CROMWELL Not sound?
GARDINER Not sound, I say.
CROMWELL Would you were half so honest:
Men's prayers then would seek you, not their fears.
GARDINER I shall remember this bold136 language.
CROMWELL Do.
Remember your bold life, too.
CHANCELLOR This is too much:
Forbear140 for shame, my lords.
GARDINER I have done.
CROMWELL And I.
To Cranmer
CHANCELLOR Then thus for you, my lord: it stands agreed,
I take it, by all voices, that forthwith
You be conveyed to th'Tower a prisoner,
There to remain till the king's further pleasure
Be known unto us: are you all agreed, lords?
ALL We are.
CRANMER Is there no other way of mercy,
But I must needs to th'Tower, my lords?
GARDINER What other
Would you expect? You are strangely troublesome:
Let some o'th'guard be ready there.
Enter the Guard
CRANMER For me?
Must I go like a traitor thither?
To the Guard
GARDINER Receive156 him,
And see him safe157 i'th'Tower.
CRANMER Stay, good my lords,
He shows the King's ring
I have a little yet to say. Look there, my lords,
By virtue of that ring, I take my cause
Out of the gripes161 of cruel men, and give it To a most noble judge, the king my master.
CHAMBERLAIN163 This is the king's ring.
SURREY 'Tis no counterfeit.
SUFFOLK 'Tis the right ring, by heaven: I told ye all,
When we first put this dangerous stone a-rolling,
'Twould fall upon ourselves.
NORFOLK Do you think, my lords,
The king will suffer but the little finger
Of this man to be vexed?
CHAMBERLAIN 'Tis now too certain:
How much more is his life in value with him172?
Would I were fairly out on't173.
CROMWELL My mind gave174 me,
In seeking tales and informations175
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 King [Henry] frowning on them: 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 aim183 of his honour and, to strengthen That holy duty out of dear respect184, His royal self in judgement comes to hear
The cause betwixt her and this great offender.
KING HENRY VIII You were ever good at sudden187 commendations,
Bishop of Winchester. But know I come not
To hear such flattery now, and in my presence
They190 are too thin and base 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 bloody194.--
To Cranmer, who sits in vacant seat at head of table
Good man, sit down.-- Now let me see the proudest
He196, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee.
By all that's holy, he had better starve197
Than but once think his place becomes thee not.
SURREY May it please your grace--
KING HENRY VIII 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 discretion203, 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 try209 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 mean212, Which ye shall never have while I live.
CHANCELLOR Thus far,
My most dread sovereign, may it like215 your grace To let my tongue excuse all. What was purposed216
Concerning his imprisonment, was rather --
If there be faith in men -- meant for his trial,
And fair purgation219 to the world than malice, I'm sure, in me.
KING HENRY VIII Well, well, my lords, respect him:
Take him, and use222 him well: he's worthy of it.
I will say thus much for him: if a prince
May be beholding to a subject, I
Am for his love and service so to him.
Make me
no more ado226, but all embrace him:
To Cranmer
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 wants229 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 HENRY VIII Come, come, my lord, you'd spare your spoons234:
you shall have two noble partners with you: the old Duchess
of Norfolk, and Lady Marquess Dorset: will these please you?
To Gardiner
Once more, my lord of Winchester, I charge you
Embrace and love this man.
He embraces Cranmer
GARDINER With a true heart
And brother-love I do it.
He weeps
CRANMER And let heaven
Witness how dear I hold this confirmation.
KING HENRY VIII Good man, those joyful tears show thy true heart:
The common voice244, I see, is verified Of thee, which says thus: 'Do my lord of Canterbury
A shrewd246 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 one249, lords, one remain: So I grow stronger, you more honour gain.
Exeunt
Act 5 Scene 3
running scene 14
Noise and tumult within: enter Porter [with a broken cudgel] and his Man
To those within
PORTER You'll leave1 your noise anon, ye rascals:
do you take the court for Paris Garden? Ye rude2
slaves, leave your gaping3.
[VOICE] WITHIN Good master porter, I belong to4 th'larder.
PORTER Belong to th'gallows, and be hanged, ye rogue! Is
this a place to roar in?-- Fetch me a dozen crab-tree6 staves,
To his Man
and strong ones: these are but switches7 to 'em.--
To those within
I'll scratch8 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 with cannons,
To scatter 'em, as 'tis to make 'em sleep
On May-day morning14, which will never be: We may as well push against Paul's15, as stir 'em.
PORTER How got they in, and be hanged16?
MAN Alas, I know not: how gets the tide in?
As much as one sound cudgel of four foot --
Holds up the cudgel
You see the poor remainder -- could distribute,
I made no spare20, sir.
PORTER You did nothing, sir.
MAN I am not Samson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colbrand22,
To mow 'em down before me: but if I spared any
That had a head to hit, either young or old,
He or she, cuckold25 or cuckold-maker, Let me ne'er hope to see a chine26 again, And that I would not for a cow27, God save her!
[VOICE] WITHIN Do you hear, master porter?
PORTER I shall be with you presently, good master puppy29.--
To his Man
Keep the door close, sirrah30.
MAN What would you have me do?
PORTER What should you do, but knock 'em down by
th'dozens? Is this Moorfields to muster33 in? Or have we some strange Indian with the great tool34 come to court, the women so besiege us? Bless me, what a fry35 of fornication is at door!
On my Christian conscience, this one christening will beget a
thousand: here will be father, godfather, and all together.
MAN The spoons38 will be the bigger, sir. There is a fellow
somewhat near the door, he should be a brazier39 by his face, for, o'my conscience twenty of the dog-days now reign in's40
nose: all that stand about him are under the line41, they need no other penance: that fire-drake42 did I hit three times on the head, and three times was his nose discharged43 against me: he stands there like a mortar-piece, to blow us44. There was a haberdasher's wife of small wit near him, that railed upon45
me till her pinked porringer fell off her head, for kindling46
such a combustion in the state. I missed the meteor47 once, and hit that woman, who cried out 'Clubs!'48, when I might see from far some forty truncheoners draw to her succour49, which were the hope o'th'Strand, where she was quartered50.
They fell on: I made good my place: at length they came to51
th'broomstaff to me: I defied 'em still, when suddenly a file of
boys behind 'em, loose shot53, delivered such a shower of pebbles, that I was fain54 to draw mine honour in, and let 'em win the work55: the devil was amongst 'em, I think, surely.
PORTER These are the youths56 that thunder at a playhouse,
and fight for bitten apples, that no audience but the
tribulation of Tower Hill, or the limbs of Limehouse58, their dear brothers, are able to endure. I have some of 'em in limbo59
patrum, and there they are like60 to dance these three days, besides the running banquet of two beadles61 that is to come.
Enter Lord Chamberlain
CHAMBERLAIN Mercy o'me: what a multitude are here!
They grow still, too: from all parts they are coming,
As if we kept a fair here! Where are these porters,
To the Porter and his Man
These lazy knaves?-- You've made a fine hand65, fellows: There's a trim66 rabble let in: are all these Your faithful friends o'th'suburbs67? We shall have Great store of room68, no doubt, left for the ladies, When they pass back from the christening!
PORTER An't70 please your honour,
We are but men, and what so many may do,
Not being torn a-pieces, we have done:
An army cannot rule73 'em.
CHAMBERLAIN As I live,
If the king blame me for't, I'll lay ye all75
By th'heels, and suddenly76, and on your heads Clap round77 fines for neglect: you're lazy knaves, And here ye lie baiting of bombards78, when
Trumpet
Ye should do service79. Hark, the trumpets sound: They're come already from the christening:
Go break among the press81, and find a way out To let the troop pass fairly82, or I'll find A Marshalsea shall hold ye play83 these two months.
PORTER Make way there for the princess.
MAN You great fellow,
Stand close up86, or I'll make your head ache.
PORTER You i'th'camlet, get up o'th'rail87:
I'll peck you o'er the pales88 else.
Exeunt
Act 5 Scene 4
running scene 15
Enter Trumpets sounding: then two Aldermen, Lord Mayor, Garter, Cranmer, Duke of Norfolk with his Marshal's staff, Duke of Suffolk, two Noblemen bearing great standing bowls for the christening gifts: then four Noblemen bearing a canopy, under which the Duchess of Norfolk, godmother, bearing the child richly habited in a mantle, etc., train borne by a Lady: then follows the Marchioness Dorset, the other godmother, and Ladies. The troop pass once about the stage, and Garter speaks
GARTER Heaven, from thy endless goodness, send prosperous
life, long, and ever happy, to the high and mighty Princess of
England, Elizabeth.
Flourish. Enter King [Henry] and Guard
He kneels
CRANMER And to your royal grace, and the good queen,
My noble partners5 and myself thus pray All comfort, joy, in this most gracious lady,
Heaven ever laid7 up to make parents happy, May hourly fall upon ye.
KING HENRY VIII Thank you, good lord archbishop:
What is her name?
CRANMER Elizabeth.
KING HENRY VIII Stand up
, lord.
He kisses the child
With this kiss take my blessing: God protect thee,
Into whose hand I give thy life.
CRANMER Amen.
KING HENRY VIII My noble gossips, you've been too prodigal16:
I thank ye heartily: so shall this lady,
When she has so much English.
CRANMER Let me speak, sir,
For heaven now bids me: and the words I utter
Let none think flattery, for they'll find 'em truth.
This royal infant -- heaven still move about her22 --
Though in her cradle, yet now promises
Upon this land a thousand thousand blessings,
Which time shall bring to ripeness: she shall be --
But few now living can behold that goodness --
A pattern27 to all princes living with her, And all that shall succeed: Saba28 was never More covetous of wisdom and fair virtue
Than this pure soul shall be. All princely graces
That mould up such a mighty piece31 as this is, With all the virtues that attend the good,
Shall still33 be doubled on her. Truth shall nurse her, Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her:
She shall be loved and feared. Her own35 shall bless her: Her foes shake like a field of beaten36 corn, And hang their heads with sorrow: good grows with her.
In her days, every man shall eat in safety
Under his own vine what he plants, and sing
The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours.
God41 shall be truly known, and those about her From her shall read42 the perfect ways of honour, And by those claim their greatness, not by blood43.
Nor shall this peace sleep44 with her: but as when The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phoenix45, Her ashes new create another heir,