PHILIP. Madam, you know my father, Retiring into cloistral solitude To yield the remnant of his years to heaven, Will shift the yoke and weight of all the world From off his neck to mine. We meet at Brussels. But since mine absence will not be for long, Your Majesty shall go to Dover with me, And wait my coming back. MARY. To Dover? no, I am too feeble. I will go to Greenwich, So you will have me with you; and there watch All that is gracious in the breath of heaven Draw with your sails from our poor land, and pass And leave me, Philip, with my prayers for you. PHILIP. And doubtless I shall profit by your prayers. MARY. Methinks that would you tarry one day more (The news was sudden) I could mould myself To bear your going better; will you do it? PHILIP. Madam, a day may sink or save a realm. MARY. A day may save a heart from breaking too. PHILIP. Well, Simon Renard, shall we stop a day? RENARD. Your Grace's business will not suffer, sire, For one day more, so far as I can tell. PHILIP. Then one day more to please her Majesty. MARY. The sunshine sweeps across my life again. O if I knew you felt this parting, Philip, As I do! PHILIP. By St. James I do protest, Upon the faith and honour of a Spaniard, I am vastly grieved to leave your Majesty. Simon, is supper ready? RENARD. Ay, my liege, I saw the covers laying. PHILIP. Let us have it. [_Exeunt_. ACT IV. SCENE I.--A ROOM IN THE PALACE. MARY, CARDINAL POLE. MARY. What have you there? POLE. So please your Majesty, A long petition from the foreign exiles To spare the life of Cranmer. Bishop Thirlby, And my Lord Paget and Lord William Howard, Crave, in the same cause, hearing of your Grace. Hath he not written himself--infatuated-- To sue you for his life? MARY. His life? Oh, no; Not sued for that--he knows it were in vain. But so much of the anti-papal leaven Works in him yet, he hath pray'd me not to sully Mine own prerogative, and degrade the realm By seeking justice at a stranger's hand Against my natural subject. King and Queen, To whom he owes his loyalty after God, Shall these accuse him to a foreign prince? Death would not grieve him more. I cannot be True to this realm of England and the Pope Together, says the heretic. POLE. And there errs; As he hath ever err'd thro' vanity. A secular kingdom is but as the body Lacking a soul; and in itself a beast. The Holy Father in a secular kingdom Is as the soul descending out of heaven Into a body generate. MARY. Write to him, then. POLE. I will. MARY. And sharply, Pole. POLE. Here come the Cranmerites! _Enter_ THIRLBY, LORD PAGET, LORD WILLIAM HOWARD.