Henry The Eighth (Folio 1, 1623)
Not Peer Reviewed
230
The Life of King Henry the Eight.¶All. We are.
3150Cran. Is there no other way of mercy,
¶But I must needs to th'Tower my Lords?
¶Gard. What other,
¶Let some o'th'Guard be ready there.
¶Cran. For me?
¶Must I goe like a Traytor thither?
¶Gard. Receiue him,
3160Cran. Stay good my Lords,
¶I haue a little yet to say. Looke there my Lords,
¶By vertue of that Ring, I take my cause
¶Out of the gripes of cruell men, and giue it
3165Cham. This is the Kings Ring.
¶Sur. 'Tis no counterfeit.
¶Suff. 'Ts the right Ring, by Heau'n: I told ye all,
¶'Twold fall vpon our selues.
3170Norf. Doe you thinke my Lords
¶The King will suffer but the little finger
¶Of this man to be vex'd?
¶Cham. Tis now too certaine;
¶How much more is his Life in value with him?
3175Would I were fairely out on't.
¶Crom. My mind gaue me,
¶In seeking tales and Informations
¶And his Disciples onely enuy at,
3180Ye blew the fire that burnes ye: now haue at ye.
¶
Enter King frowning on them, takes his Seate.
¶Gard. Dread Soueraigne,
¶How much are we bound to Heauen,
¶In dayly thankes; that gaue vs such a Prince;
¶One that in all obedience, makes the Church
¶The cheefe ayme of his Honour, and to strengthen
¶That holy duty out of deare respect,
¶His Royall selfe in Iudgement comes to heare
3190The cause betwixt her, and this great offender.
¶They are too thin, and base to hide offences,
3195To me you cannot reach. You play the Spaniell,
¶And thinke with wagging of your tongue to win me:
¶Thou hast a cruell Nature and a bloody.
3200Hee, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee.
¶By all that's holy, he had better starue,
¶Then but once thinke his place becomes thee not.
¶And wisedome of my Councell; but I finde none:
¶Was it discretion Lords, to let this man,
¶This good man (few of you deserue that Title)
3210At Chamber dore? and one, as great as you are?
¶Power, as he was a Counsellour to try him,
3215More out of Malice then Integrity,
¶Would trye him to the vtmost, had ye meane,
¶Which ye shall neuer haue while I liue.
¶Chan. Thus farre
¶My most dread Soueraigne, may it like your Grace,
3220To let my tongue excuse all. What was purpos'd
¶Concerning his Imprisonment, was rather
¶(If there be faith in men) meant for his Tryall,
¶And faire purgation to the world then malice,
¶I'm sure in me.
¶Take him, and vse him well; hee's worthy of it.
¶I will say thus much for him, if a Prince
¶May be beholding to a Subiect; I
3230Make me no more adoe, but all embrace him;
¶Be friends for shame my Lords: My Lord of Canterbury
¶I haue a Suite which you must not deny mee.
¶That is, a faire young Maid that yet wants Baptisme,
¶That am a poore and humble Subiect to you?
¶You shall haue two noble Partners with you: the old
¶Once more my Lord of Winchester, I charge you
¶Embrace, and loue this man.
¶Gard. With a true heart,
3245And Brother; loue I doe it.
¶Cran. And let Heauen
¶The common voyce I see is verified
3250Of thee, which sayes thus: Doe my Lord of Canterbury
¶A shrewd turne, and hee's your friend for euer:
¶Come Lords, we trifle time away: I long
¶To haue this young one made a Christian.
¶As I haue made ye one Lords, one remaine:
3255So I grow stronger, you more Honour gaine.
Exeunt.
¶
Scena Tertia.
¶
Noyse and Tumult within: Enter Porter and
¶
his man.
3260you take the Court for Parish Garden: ye rude Slaues,
¶leaue your gaping.
¶Within. Good M. Porter I belong to th'Larder.
¶Port. Belong to th'Gallowes, and be hang'd ye Rogue:
¶Is this a place to roare in? Fetch me a dozen Crab-tree
¶Do you looke for Ale, and Cakes heere, you rude
¶Raskalls?
¶On May-day Morning, which will neuer be:
¶Por. How got they in, and be hang'd?
Man.
