You'll find a most unfit time to disturb him: Health to your lordships. Suf. See, the king! [Exit CHAMBERLAIN. Enter the KING, reading pensively. How sad he looks! sure, he is much afflicted. King. Who's there? ha? Nor. 'Pray Heaven, he be not angry. King. Who's there, I say? How dare you thrust yourselves 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. You are too bold; Go too; I'll make ye know your times of business; Is this an hour for temporal affairs? ha? Enter WOLSEY, and CARDINAL CAMPEIUS, with a Commission. Who's there? my good lord cardinal?-O my Wol sey, The quiet of my wounded conscience, Thou art a cure fit for a king.-You're welcome, Wol. Sir, you cannot. I would your grace would give us but an hour King: We are busy; go. Nor. This priest has no pride in him! I would not be so sick though, for his place: But this cannot continue. Nor. If it do, I'll venture one heave at him. Suf. I another. [Aside. King. Go. [Exeunt SUFFOLK and NORFOLK. I mean, the learned ones, in christian kingdoms, ment, Invited by your noble self, hath sent One general tongue unto us, this good man, And thank the holy conclave for their loves; You are so noble: To your highness' hand I tender my commission; by whose virtue,- King. Two equal men. The queen shall be acquainted Forthwith, for what you come. Where's Gardiner ? A woman of less place might ask bylaw, King. Ay, and the best she shall have; and my favour To him that does best; Heaven forbid else! Cardinal, 'Pr'ythee, call Gardiner to me, my new secretary; I find him a fit fellow. WOLSEY goes out, and returns with 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. [Aside. [Walks, and whispers with him. Cam. My lord of York, was not one Doctor Pace In this man's place before him? Wol. Yes, he waз. Cam. Was he not held a learned man ? Wol. Yes, surely. Cam. Believe me, there's an ill opinion spread then Even of yourself, 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 died. Wol. Heav'n's peace be with him! That's christian care enough: for living murmurers, For he would needs be virtuous: That good fellow, Would it not grieve an able man, to leave So sweet a bedfellow? But, conscience, conscience,O, 'tis a tender place, and I must leave her. [Exeunt. SCENE III. An Antechamber of the QUEEN's Apartments. Enter LADY DENNY, and ANNE BULLEN. Anne. Not for that neither;-Here's the pang that pinches : His highness having liv'd so long with her! and she I swear 'tis better to be lowly born, Who would on such conditions be a queen? Anne. Nay, good troth, Lady D. Yes, troth and troth,-You would not be a queen? Anne. No, not for all the riches under heaven. Lady D. A threepence bow'd would hire me, Old as I am, to queen it: But, I pray you, What think you of a duchess? have you limbs To bear that load of title? Anne. No, in truth. Lady D. I would not be a young count in your way, For more than blushing comes to. I Anne. How you do talk! swear again, I would not be a queen For all the world. ' Lady D. In faith, for little England Would for Carnarvonshire, although there 'long'd Cham. Good morrow, ladies. What wer't worth, to know The secret of your conference? Anne. My good lord, Our mistress' sorrows we were pitying. > Cham. It was a gentle business, and becoming The action of good women: there is hope, All will be well. Anne. Now I pray Heaven, amen! Cham. You bear a gentle mind, and heavenly blessings Follow such creatures. That you may, fair lady, The king's majesty Commends his good opinion of you, and Anne. I do not know, What kind of my obedience I should tender; 'Beseech your lordship, Vouchsafe to speak my thanks, and my obedience, Cham. Lady, I shall not fail to approve the fair conceit, The king hath of you. I have perus'd her well; That they have caught the king: And who knows yet, |