Henry VIII

Queen Katherine, to the King
I am sorry that the Duke of Buckingham
Is run in your displeasure.

When these so noble benefits shall prove
Not well disposed, the mind growing once corrupt,
They turn to vicious forms ten times more ugly
Than ever they were fair.

King
It grieves many.
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Queen Katherine
Lord Cardinal,
To you I speak.
Wolsey
Your pleasure, madam.

You sign your place and calling, in full seeming,
With meekness and humility, but your heart
Is crammed with arrogancy, spleen, and pride.

Queen Katherine
Sir,
I am about to weep; but thinking that
We are a queen,
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Wolsey
Ever God bless your Highness.
King
Good my lord,
You are full of heavenly stuff and bear the inventory
Of your best graces in your mind, the which
You were now running o’er. You have scarce time
To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span
To keep your earthly audit. Sure, in that
I deem you an ill husband,
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King
Have I not made you
The prime man of the state? I pray you tell me
If what I now pronounce you have found true;
And, if you may confess it, say withal
If you are bound to us or no. What say you?

I have touched the highest point of all my greatness,
And from that full meridian of my glory
I haste now to my setting.
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King
Stand up, good Canterbury!
Thy truth and thy integrity is rooted
In us, thy friend. Give me thy hand. Stand up.
 Cranmer rises.
Prithee, let’s walk. Now by my halidom,
What manner of man are you? My lord, I looked
You would have given me your petition that
I should have ta’en some pains to bring together
Yourself and your accusers and to have heard you
Without endurance further.
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King
Now by thy looks
I guess thy message. Is the Queen delivered?
Say “Ay, and of a boy.”

’Tis as like you
As cherry is to cherry.

Old Lady
Ay, ay, my liege,
And of a lovely boy. The God of heaven
Both now and ever bless her! ’Tis a girl
Promises boys hereafter.
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Cranmer
Is there no other way of mercy
But I must needs to th’ Tower, my lords?
Gardiner
What other
Would you expect? You are strangely troublesome.
Let some o’ th’ guard be ready there.
 Enter the Guard.
Cranmer
For me?
Must I go like a traitor thither?
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Cranmer
Let me speak, sir,
For heaven now bids me; and the words I utter
Let none think flattery, for they’ll find ’em truth.
This royal infant—heaven still move about her!—
Though in her cradle, yet now promises
Upon this land a thousand thousand blessings,
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