Enter Wolfey, and Campeius the Pope's Legat, Who's there? my good Lord Cardinal? O my Wolsey, Thou art a cure fit for the King. You're welcome,. Wol. Sir, you cannot : I would your Grace would give us but an hour King. We are bufie; go. Nor. This priest has no pride in him? I would not be fo fick though, for his place: Nor. If it do, I'll venture one heave at him. Suf. I another. [Exeunt Norfolk and Suffolk, One gen'ral tongue unto us, this good man, King. And once more in mine arms I bid him welcome, And thank the holy conclave for their loves, They've fent me fuch a man I would have wifh'd for.. Cam. Your Grace must needs deférve all strangers loves, You are fo noble: to your Highness' hand 1 tender my commiffion; by whofe virtue, (The (The court of Rome commanding) you, my lord Cardinal of York, are join'd with me, their fervant, In the impartial judging of this business. King. Two equal men: the Queen fhall be acquainted A woman of lefs place might ask by law, King. Ay and the beft, fhe fhall have; and my favour 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, whofe 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. Camb.. Was he not held a learned man? Cam. Believe me, there's an ill opinion fpread then Ev'n of your felf, lord Cardinal, Wol. How? of me? Cam. They will not ftick to fay you envy'd him j And fearing he would rife, he was fo virtuous, Kept him a foreign man ftill; which fo griev'd him That he ran mad and dy'd. Wol. Heav'n's peace be with him! That's chriftian 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 fo near elfe. Learn this, brother,. We live not to be grip'd by meaner perfons. King Deliver this with modefty to th' Queen. So fweet a bedfellow? but conscience, conscience SCENE V. Enter Anne Bullen, and an old Lady. Anne. N that pinches JOT for that neither here's the pang His Highness liv'd so long with her, and the The which to leave, a thoufand-fold more bitter Would move a monfter.. Old L. Hearts of moft hard temper Melt and lament for her.. Anne. In God's will, better She ne'er had known pomp; though't be temporal, It from the bearer, 'tis a fuff'rance panging As foul and body's fev'ring. Old L.. Ah poor lady, She's ftranger now again. Anne. So much the more Muft pity drop upon her; verily 1 fwear 'tis better to be lowly born, Than Than to be perk'd up in a glist'ring grief, old L. Our content Is our best having. Anne. By my troth and maidenhead, I would not be a Queen. Old L. Befhrew me I would, And venture maidenhead for't; and fo would you, For all this fpice of your hypocrifie ; You that have fo fair parts of woman on you, of your foft t cheveril confcience would receive, Anne. Nay, good troth Old. Yes, troth and troth, you would not be a Queen me, Old as I am, to queen it; but I pray you, Anne. No, in truth. Old L. Then you are weakly made: pluck off a little: I would not be a young Count in your way, For more than blufhing comes to: if your back Cannot vouchfafe this burthen, 'tis too weak. Ever to get a boy. Anne. How do you talk! I fwear again, I would not be a Queen Old L. In faith for little England You'll venture an emballing: I my self Would for Carnaruanshire, though there belong'd No more to th’crown but that. Lo, who comes here? Enter ti. e. Tender, from Caprellus, Lat. Ciaverello, It, Chevereul, Fr. a young Goat or Kid Enter Lord Chamberlain. Cham. Good-morrow, ladies; what were't worth to know The fecret of your conf'rence? Anne. My good lord, Not your demand; it values not your asking Cham. It was a gentle bufinefs, and becoming Anne. Now I pray God, amen; Cham. You bear a gentle mind, and heav'nly bleffings Follow fuch creatures. That you may, fair lady, Perceive I fpeak fincerely, and high notes Ta'en of your many virtues; the King's Majefty Commends his good opinion to you, and Does purpose honour to you no lefs flowing Than Marchionefs of Pembrook; to which title A thousand pound a year, annual fupport, Out of his grace he adds. Anne. I do not know What kind of my obedience I should tender; Cham. Lady, I fhall not fail t'approve the fair conceit [Afide. That they have caught the King; and who knows yet, But from this lady may proceed a gem To lighten all this Ifle? I'll to the King, And fay I fpoke with you. Anne. My honour'd lord. Old L. Why this it is fee, fee, [Exit Chamberlain. |