King Henry VIII

Name: King Henry VIII
Author: Shakespeare, William

Shakespeare, William

Great Britain -- History -- Henry VIII, 1509-1547 -- Drama; Great Britain -- Kings and rulers -- Drama; Henry, VIII, King of England, 1491-1547 -- Drama; Historical drama

But reverence to your calling makes me modest.
  GARDINER. 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.
  CROMWELL. My Lord of Winchester, y'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.
  GARDINER. Good Master Secretary,
    I cry your honour mercy; you may, worst
    Of all this table, say so.
  CROMWELL. Why, my lord?
  GARDINER. Do not I know you for a favourer
    Of this new sect? Ye are not sound.
  CROMWELL. Not sound?
  GARDINER. Not sound, I say.
  CROMWELL. Would you were half so honest!
    Men's prayers then would seek you, not their fears.
  GARDINER. I shall remember this bold language.
  CROMWELL. Do.
    Remember your bold life too.
  CHANCELLOR. This is too much;
    Forbear, for shame, my lords.
  GARDINER. I have done.
  CROMWELL. And I.
  CHANCELLOR. Then thus for you, my lord: it stands agreed,
    I take it, by all voices, that forthwith
    You be convey'd to th' Tower a prisoner;
    There to remain till the King's further pleasure
    Be known unto us. Are you all agreed, lords?
  ALL. We are.
  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?
  GARDINER. Receive him,
    And see him safe i' th' Tower.
  CRANMER. Stay, good my lords,
    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.
  CHAMBERLAIN. This is the King's ring.
  SURREY. 'Tis no counterfeit.
  SUFFOLK. 'Tis the right ring, by heav'n. I told ye all,
    When we first put this dangerous stone a-rolling,
    'Twould fall upon ourselves.
  NORFOLK. Do you think, my lords,
    The King will suffer but the little finger
    Of this man to be vex'd?
  CHAMBERLAIN. 'Tis now too certain;
    How much more is his life in value with him!
    Would I were fairly out on't!
  CROMWELL. My mind gave me,
    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 ye!


      Enter the KING frowning on them; he takes his seat

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

Opening the text

King Henry VIIIShakespeare, William

History

King Henry VIII

Shakespeare, William

Great Britain -- History -- Henry VIII, 1509-1547 -- Drama; Great Britain -- Kings and rulers -- Drama; Henry, VIII, King of England, 1491-1547 -- Drama; Historical drama

But reverence to your calling makes me modest.
  GARDINER. 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.
  CROMWELL. My Lord of Winchester, y'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.
  GARDINER. Good Master Secretary,
    I cry your honour mercy; you may, worst
    Of all this table, say so.
  CROMWELL. Why, my lord?
  GARDINER. Do not I know you for a favourer
    Of this new sect? Ye are not sound.
  CROMWELL. Not sound?
  GARDINER. Not sound, I say.
  CROMWELL. Would you were half so honest!
    Men's prayers then would seek you, not their fears.
  GARDINER. I shall remember this bold language.
  CROMWELL. Do.
    Remember your bold life too.
  CHANCELLOR. This is too much;
    Forbear, for shame, my lords.
  GARDINER. I have done.
  CROMWELL. And I.
  CHANCELLOR. Then thus for you, my lord: it stands agreed,
    I take it, by all voices, that forthwith
    You be convey'd to th' Tower a prisoner;
    There to remain till the King's further pleasure
    Be known unto us. Are you all agreed, lords?
  ALL. We are.
  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?
  GARDINER. Receive him,
    And see him safe i' th' Tower.
  CRANMER. Stay, good my lords,
    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.
  CHAMBERLAIN. This is the King's ring.
  SURREY. 'Tis no counterfeit.
  SUFFOLK. 'Tis the right ring, by heav'n. I told ye all,
    When we first put this dangerous stone a-rolling,
    'Twould fall upon ourselves.
  NORFOLK. Do you think, my lords,
    The King will suffer but the little finger
    Of this man to be vex'd?
  CHAMBERLAIN. 'Tis now too certain;
    How much more is his life in value with him!
    Would I were fairly out on't!
  CROMWELL. My mind gave me,
    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 ye!


      Enter the KING frowning on them; he takes his seat

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

King Henry VIII

King Henry VIII

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