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 crackt 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 Luftre; 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. Heav'n keep me from fuch Counsel; 'tis most true,
These News are every where, every Tongue speaks 'em,
And every true Heart weeps for't. All that dare
Look into these Affairs, fee his main end,
The French King's Sister. Heav'n will one day open
The King's Eyes, that so long have fslept 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 Mens Honours
Lye like 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; th' are breath I not believe ina
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 fome other Business, put the King,

From these sad Thoughts, that work too much upon him?

My Lord, you'll bear us company?

Pż

Ehime Cham. Excuse me,

The King has fent me other-where: Besides
You'll find a most unfit time to disturb him:

Health to your Lordships. [Exit Lord Chamberlain.
Nor. Thanks, my good Lord Chamberlain.

The Scene draws, and discovers the King futing and read

ing pensively.

Suf. How fad he looks; fure he is much afflicted.

King. Who's there? Ha?

Nor. Pray God, he be not angry.

King. Who's there, I say? how dare you thrust your felv

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.

King. Ye are too bold:

Go to; I'll make ye know your times of Business:
Is this an hour for temporal Affairs? ha ?

Enter Wolfey, and Campeius the Pope's Legat, with a Commiffion.
Who's there? my good Lord Cardinal? O my Wolsey,
The quiet of my wounded Confcienc;

Thou art a cure fit for the King; you're welcome,
Most learned reverend Sir, into our Kingdom,
Use 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 Conference.

King. We are bufie; go.

Nor. This Prieft has no Pride in him?

Suf. Not to speak of:

I would not be so sick though, for his place:
Bat 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 given a Precedent of Wisdom

Above all Princes, in committing freely

Your fcruple to the Voice of Christendom:

Who can be angry now? what envy reach you?
The Spaniard, ty'd 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 Judgment,
Invited by your Noble self, hath fent
One general Tongue unto us, this good Man,
This just and learned Priest, Cardinal Campeius,
Whom once more I present unto your Highness.

King. 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 Strangers loves,

You are so Noble: To your Highnesses 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 impartial judging of this Business.

:

King. Two equal Men: The Queen shall be acquainted
Forthwith for what you come. Where's Gardiner?
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,

King. Ay, and the best she shall have; and my favour To him that does best, God forbid else; Cardinal, Prithee call Gardiner to me, my new Secretary,

I find him a fit Fellow.

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, whose 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

Even of your felf, Lord Cardinal.
Wol. How? of me?

Cam. They will not stick to say, you envy'd him;
And fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous,
Kept him a foreign Man still, which so griev'd him,
That he ran Mad, and dy'd.

Wol. Heav'n's peace be with him;
That's Christian care enough; for living murmurers,
There's places of rebuke. He was a Fool,
For he would needs be virtuous. That good Fellow,
If I command him, follows my appointment;
I will have none so near else. Learn this, Brother,
We live not to be grip'd by meaner Persons.

King. Deliver this with modesty to th' Queen.

[Exit Gardiner.

The most convenient place that I can think of,
For fuch receit of Learning, is Black-Fryars:
There ye shall meet about this weighty Business.
My Wolfey, fee it furnish'd. O my Lord,
Would it not grieve an able Man to leave
So sweet a Bedfellow? But Confcience, Conscience
O'tis a tender Place, and I must leave her.

SCENE III.

Enter Anne Bullen, and an old Lady.

[Exeunt.

Anne. Not for that neither---here's the pang that pinches, His Highness having liv'd so long with her, and she So good a Lady, that no Tongue could ever Pronounce dishonour of her; by my Life, She never knew harm-doing: Oh, now after So many courses of the Sun enthron'd, Still growing in a Majesty and Pomp, the which To leave, a thousand fold more bitter, than *Tis fu eet at first t'acquire. After this Procefs, To give her the Avaunt, it is a pity Would move a Monster.

Old L. Hearts of most hard temper

Me't and lament for her.

2

Anne. O' God's Will, much better

She ne'er had known Pomp; though't be temporal,

Yet if that quarrel, Fortune, do divorce

It from the bearer, 'tis a sufferance, panging

As Soul and Body's severing.

Old L. Alas, poor Lady,
She's Stranger now again.

Anne. So much the more
Must pity drop upon her; verily
I swear, 'tis better to be lowly born,
And range with humble livers in Content,
Than to be perk'd up in a glist'ring Grief,
And wear a golden Sorrow.
Old L. Our Content

Is our best having.

Anne. By my troth and Maidenhead, I would not be a Queen.

Old L. Beshrew me, I would,

And venture Maidenhead for't, and so would you
For all this spice of your Hypocrifie;
You that have so fair parts of Woman on you,
Have, too, a Woman's Heart, which ever yet
Affected Eminence, Wealth, Sovereignty;
Which, to fay footh, are Blessings; and which Gifts
(Saving your mincing) the Capacity

Of your foft (hiverel Confcience would receive,
If you might please to stretch it.

Anne. Nay, good troth

Old L. Yes, troth and troth; you would not be a Queen?
Anne. No, not for all the Riches under Heav'n.

Old L. 'Tis strange; a three-pence bow'd now would hire

Old as I am, to Queen it; but I pray you,

What think you of a Dutchefs? have you Limbs
To bear that load of Title?

Anne. No, in truth,

Old L. Then you are weakly made, pluck off a little,
I would not be a young Countin your way,
For more than blushing comes to: If your Back
Cannot vouchsafe this burthen, 'tis too weak

Ever to get a Boy

P4

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Anne.