Henry VIII

Griffith
She is asleep. Good wench, let’s sit down quiet,
For fear we wake her. Softly, gentle Patience.  They sit.

Spirits of peace, where are you? Are you all gone,
And leave me here in wretchedness behind you?

 The Vision.

Enter, solemnly tripping one after another, six
Personages clad in white robes,
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Katherine
If my sight fail not,
You should be Lord Ambassador from the Emperor,
My royal nephew, and your name Capuchius.
Capuchius
Madam, the same. Your servant.
Katherine
O my lord,
The times and titles now are altered strangely
With me since first you knew me. But I pray you,
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Lovell
Came you from the King, my lord?
Gardiner
I did, Sir Thomas, and left him at primero
With the Duke of Suffolk.
Lovell
I must to him too,
Before he go to bed. I’ll take my leave.
Gardiner
Not yet, Sir Thomas Lovell. What’s the matter?
It seems you are in haste.
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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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Chancellor
My good lord Archbishop, I’m very sorry
To sit here at this present and behold
That chair stand empty. But we all are men,
In our own natures frail, and capable
Of our flesh—few are angels—out of which frailty
And want of wisdom you, that best should teach us,
Have misdemeaned yourself, and not a little,
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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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Epilogue
’Tis ten to one this play can never please
All that are here.

Some come to take their ease
And sleep an act or two

Some come to take their ease
And sleep an act or two—but those, we fear,
We’ve frighted with our trumpets; so, ’tis clear,
They’ll say ’tis naught—others,
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