And want of wisdom, you, that best should teach us,
Have misdemean'd yourself, and not a little,
Toward the king first, then his laws, in filling
The whole realm, by your teaching, and your chaplains,
(For so we are inform'd) with new opinions,

"That is no city libertine, nor capable of their gown." Shakspeare uses the word capable as perversely in King Lear: 66 and of my land,

"Loyal and natural boy, I'll work the mean

"To make thee capable." Steevens.

The word capable almost every where in Shakspeare means intelligent, of capacity to understand, or quick of apprehension. So, in King Richard III:

66

- O, 'tis a parlous boy,

"Bold, quick, ingenious, forward, capable !"

Again, in Hamlet:

"His form and cause conjoin'd, preaching to stones,
"Would make them capable!"

In the same play Shakspeare has used incapable nearly in the sense required here:

"As one incapable [i. e. unintelligent] of her own distress." So, Marston, in his Scourge of Villanie, 1599:

"To be perus'd by all the dung-scum rabble

"Of thin-brain'd ideots, dull uncapable."

Minsheu, in his Dictionary, 1617, renders the word by indocilis. The transcriber's ear, I suppose, deceived him, in the passage before us, as in many others; and the Chancellor, I conceive, means to say, the condition of humanity is such, that we are all born frail in disposition, and weak in our understandings. The subsequent words appear to me to add such support to this emendation, that I have ventured, contrary to my general rule, to give it a place in my text; which, however, I should not have done, had the original reading afforded a glimmering of sense:

we are all men,

In our own natures frail, incapable;

Of our flesh, few are angels; out of which frailty,
And want of wisdom, you, &c.

Mr. Pope, in his licentious method, printed the passage thus, and the three subsequent editors adopted his supposed reformation:

We are all men,

In our own natures frail, and capable

Of frailty, few are angels; from which frailty, &c. Malone. I cannot extort any kind of sense from the passage as it stands. Perhaps it should be read thus:

we are all men,

In our own natures frail and culpable :

Of our flesh few are angels.

That is, few are perfect. M. Mason.

Divers, and dangerous; which are heresies,
And, not reform'd, may prove pernicious.

Gar. Which reformation must be sudden too,
My noble lords: for those, that tame wild horses,
Pace them not in their hands to make them gentle;
But stop their mouths with stubborn bits, and spur them,
Till they obey the manage. If we suffer

(Out of our easiness, and childish pity

To one man's honour) this contagious sickness,
Farewel, all physick: And what follows then?
Commotions, uproars, with a general taint

Of the whole state: as, of late days, our neighbours,
The upper Germany, can dearly witness,
Yet freshly pitied in our memories.

Cran. My good lords, hitherto, in all the progress
Both of my life and office, I have labour'd,
And with no little study, that my teaching,
And the strong course 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 single heart, my lords,)
A man, that more detests, more stirs against,
Both in his private conscience, and his place,
Defacers of a publick peace,3 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 urge against me.

Suf.
Nay, my lord,
That cannot be; you are a counsellor,
And, by that virtue, no man dare accuse you.

1 The upper Germany, &c.] Alluding to the heresy of Thomas Muntzer, which sprung up in Saxony in the years 1521 and 1522.

Grey.

Malone.

2 —a single heart,] A heart void of duplicity or guile.
It is a scriptural expression. See Acts ii, 46. Reed.
3 Defacers of a publick peace,] Read, the publick peace.

M. Mason

Gar. My lord, because we have business of more mo

ment,

We will be short 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 private man again,

You shall know many dare accuse you boldly,

More than, I fear, you are provided for.

Cran. Ah, my good lord of Winchester, I thank you,
You are always my good friend; if your will pass,
I shall both find your lordship judge and juror,
You are so merciful: I see your end,

'Tis my undoing: Love, and meekness, lord,
Become 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 conscience,
In doing daily wrongs. I could say more,
But reverence to your calling makes me modest.
Gar. My lord, my lord, you are a sectary,
That's the plain truth; your painted gloss discovers,
To men that understand you, words and weakness.
Crom. My lord of Winchester, you are a little,
By your good favour, too sharp; men so noble,
However faulty, yet should find respect

For what they have been: 'tis a cruelty,
To load a falling man.5

Gar.

Good master secretary,

I cry your honour mercy; you may, worst

Of all this table, say so.

Crom.

Why, my lord?

Gar. Do not I know you for a favourer

Of this new sect? ye are not sound.

4

your painted gloss &c.] Those that understand you, under this painted gloss, this fair outside, discover your empty talk and your false reasoning. Johnson.

5

'tis a cruelty,

To load a falling man.] This sentiment had occurred before. The Lord Chamberlain checking the Earl of Surrey for his reproaches to Wolsey, says:

O, my lord,

"Press not a falling man too far." Steevens.

Crom.

Not sound?

Gar. Not sound, I say.

'Would you were half so honest!

Crom.

Men's prayers then would seek you, not their fears.
Gar. I shall remember this bold language.

Crom.

Remember your bold life too.

Chan.

Forbear, for shame, my lords.

Gar. Crom.

6

Do.

This is too much;

I have done.

And I.

Chan. Then thus for you, my lord,-It stands agreed, I take it, by all voices, that forthwith

You be convey'd to the Tower a prisoner;

There to remain, till the king's further pleasure
Be known unto us: Are you all agreed, lords?

All. We are.

Cran.
Is there no other way
of
But I must needs to the Tower, my lords?

mercy,

What other

Gar.
Would you expect? You are strangely troublesome.
Let some o' the guard be ready there.

I have a little yet to say. Look there, my lords;
By virtue of that ring, I take my cause
Out of the gripes of cruel men, and give it
To a most noble judge, the king my master.
Cham. This is the king's ring.7

6 Chan. Then thus for you, &c.] This, and the little speech above "This is too much," &c. are in the old copy given to the Lord Chamberlain. The difference between Cham. and Chan. is so slight, that I have not hesitated to give them both to the chancellor, who on Cranmer's entrance first arraigns him, and therefore, (without any consideration of his high station in the council) is the person to whom Shakspeare would naturally assign the order for his being committed to the Tower. The Chancellor's apologizing to the King for the committal in a subsequent passage likewise supports the emendation now made, which was sug gested by Mr. Capell. Malone.

Sur.

'Tis no counterfeit. Suf. 'Tis the right ring, by heaven: I told ye all, When we first put this dangerous stone a rolling, 'Twould fall upon ourselves.

Nor.

The king will suffer but the little finger

Of this man to be vex'd?

Cham.

Do you think, my lords,

'Tis now too certain :

My mind gave me,

How much more is his life in value with him?

'Would I were fairly out on 't.

Crom.

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 yc.

Enter King, frowning on them; takes his seat.
Gar. 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.

K. Hen. You were ever good at sudden commendations,

Bishop of Winchester. But know, I come not
To hear such flattery now, and in my presence;

7 This is the king's ring.] It seems to have been a custom, begun probably in the dark ages, before literature was generally diffused, and before the regal power experienced the restraints of law, for every monarch to have a ring, the temporary possession of which invested the holder with the same authority as the owner himself could exercise. The production of it was sufficient to suspend the execution of the law; it procured indemnity for offences committed, and imposed acquiescence and submission on whatever was done under its authority. Instances abound in the history of almost every nation. See Procopius de bell. Vandal. L. I. p. 15, as quoted in Farnworth's Machiavel, Vol. I, p 9 The traditional story of the Earl of Essex, Queen Elizabeth, and the Countess of Nottingham, long considered as an incident of a ro mance is generally known, and now as generally credited. See Birch's Negotiations, p. 206. Reed.