You fhall, Sir. Did you not of late days hear
A buzzing of a separation

Between the King and Cath'rine?

i Gen. Yes, but it held not;

For when the King once heard it, out of anger
He fent command to the Lord Mayor strait
To stop the rumour; and allay those tongues,
That durft difperse it.

2 Gen. But that flander, Sir,

Is found a truth now; for it grows again
Fresher than e'er it was, and held for certain,
The King will venture at it. Either the Cardinal,
Or fome about him near, have, out of malice
To the good Queen, poffefs'd him with a scruple
That will undo her; to confirm this too,
Cardinal Campeius is arriv'd, and lately,
As all think, for this bufinefs.

1 Gen. 'Tis the Cardinal;

And meerly to revenge him on the Emperor,
For not beftowing on him, at his afking,

The Arch-bishoprick of Toledo, this is purpos'd.

2 Gen. I think, you've hit the mark; but is't not

cruel,

That fhe fhould feel the fmart of this? The Cardinal Will have his will, and fhe must fall.

1 Gen. 'Tis woful.

We are too open here to argue this:
Let's think in private more.

SCEN E III.

An Antechamber in the Palace.

[Exeunt.

Enter Lord Chamberlain reading a letter.

MY Lord, the borfes your lordship fent for, with all

the care I bad, I saw well chofen, ridden, and furnished. They were young and handfome, and of the

beft

best breed in the North. When they were ready to fet out for London, a man of my Lord Cardinal's, by commiffion and main power took 'em from me, with this reafon; his master would be ferv'd before a fubject, if not before the King, which flopp'd our mouths, Sir.

I fear, he will, indeed. Well, let him have them;
He will have all, I think.

Enter to the Lord Chamberlain, the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk.

Nor. Well met, my Lord Chamberlain,
Cham, Good day to both your Graces,
Suf. How is the King employ'd?
Cham. I left him private,

Full of fad thoughts and troubles.

Nor. What's the caufe ?..

Cham. It seems, the marriage with his brother's wife Has crept too near his confcience.

Suf. No, his conscience

Has crept too near another lady.
Nor. 'Tis fo;

This is the Cardinal's doing; the King-Cardinal!
That blind prieft, like the eldest son of fortune,

Turns what he lifts. The King will know him one day.

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 'Tween us and th' Emperor, the Queen's great nephew, He dives into the King's foul, and there fcatters Doubts, dangers, wringing of the confcience, Fears, and defpair, and all these for his marriage; And out of all thefe, to reftore the King, He counfels a divorce; a lofs of Her, That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years About his neck, yet never loft her luftre;

Of

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 counfel! 'tis
moft true,

Thefe news are ev'ry where; ev'ry tongue fpeaks 'em,
And ev'ry true heart weeps for't. All, that dare
Look into these affairs, fee his main end,

The French King's fifter. Heav'n will one day open
The King's eyes, that fo long have slept upon
This bold, bad man.

Suf. And free us from his flavery.

Nor. We had need pray, and heartily, for deliv'rance;

Or this imperious man will work us all

2

* From princes into pages; all men's honours Lie like one lump before him, to be fashion'd Into what pitch he pleafe.

Suf. For me, my Lords,

I love him not, nor fear him, there's my Creed ;
As I am made without him, fo I'll ftand,

If the King pleafe; his curfes and his bleffings
Touch me alike; they're breath I not believe in.
I knew him, and I know him; so I leave him
To him, that made him proud, the Pope.

From these fad thoughts, that work too much upon

him ;

-My Lord, you'll bear us, company ?

Cham. Excufe me,

The King hath fent me other-where; befides
You'll find a moft unfit time to difturb him.

Health to your Lordships.

[Exit Lord Chamberlain.

Nor. Thanks, my good Lord Chamberlain,

SCENE

IV.

The Scene drates, and difcovers the King fitting and reading penfively.

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 fay? 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 bufinefs of eftate; 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 Legate, with a Commiffion.

Who's there? my good Lord Cardinal?-O my Wolfey,

The quiet of my wounded confcience!

Thou art a cure fit for a King. You're welcome,

[

[To Campeius.

Most learned rev'rend Sir, into our kingdom;

Ufe

Ufe us, and it. My good Lord, have great care
I be not found a talker.

Wol. Sir, you cannot.

[To Wolfey.

I would your Grace would give us but an hour
Of private Conf'rence.

King. We are busy; go.

[To Norf. and Suff.

Nor. This priest has no pride in him!

Suf. Not to fpeak of:

I would not be

fo fick though, for his place.

But 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 giv'n 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,
Muft now confefs, if he have any goodness,
The trial juft and noble. All the clerks,

I mean the learned ones, in chriftian kingdoms,
Have their free voices. Rome, the nurfe of judgment,
Invited by your noble felf, hath fent

One gen'ral tongue unto us, this good man,
This juft and learned prieft, Cardinal Campeius;!
Whom once more I prefent unto your Highnefs.
King. And once more in mine arms I bid him wel-

come,

And thank the holy Conclave for their loves;

They've fent me fuch a man I would have wifh'd for. Cam. Your Grace muft needs deferve all strangers' loves,

You are so noble. To your Highness' hand

I tender my commiffion; by whose virtue,

I be not found a talker.] I take the meaning to be, Let care be taken that my promise be performed,

that my profefiens of welcome be not found empty talk.

* jo fick though.] That is, so fick as he is proud.