Cran. God, and your Maiesty Protect mine innocence, or I fall into The trap is laid for me
King. Be of good cheere, They shall no more preuaile, then we giue way too: Keepe comfort to you, and this Morning see You do appeare before them. If they shall chance In charging you with matters, to commit you: The best perswasions to the contrary Faile not to vse, and with what vehemencie Th' occasion shall instruct you. If intreaties Will render you no remedy, this Ring Deliuer them, and your Appeale to vs There make before them. Looke, the goodman weeps: He's honest on mine Honor. Gods blest Mother, I sweare he is true-hearted, and a soule None better in my Kingdome. Get you gone, And do as I haue bid you.
He ha's strangled his Language in his teares. Enter Olde Lady.
Gent. within. Come backe: what meane you? Lady. Ile not come backe, the tydings that I bring Will make my boldnesse, manners. Now good Angels Fly o're thy Royall head, and shade thy person Vnder their blessed wings
King. Now by thy lookes I gesse thy Message. Is the Queene deliuer'd? Say I, and of a boy
Lady. I, I my Liege, And of a louely Boy: the God of heauen Both now, and euer blesse her: 'Tis a Gyrle Promises Boyes heereafter. Sir, your Queen Desires your Visitation, and to be Acquainted with this stranger; 'tis as like you, As Cherry, is to Cherry
King. Giue her an hundred Markes. Ile to the Queene.
Lady. An hundred Markes? By this light, Ile ha more. An ordinary Groome is for such payment. I will haue more, or scold it out of him. Said I for this, the Gyrle was like to him? Ile Haue more, or else vnsay't: and now, while 'tis hot, Ile put it to the issue.
Enter Cranmer, Archbyshop of Canterbury.
Cran. I hope I am not too late, and yet the Gentleman That was sent to me from the Councell, pray'd me To make great hast. All fast? What meanes this? Hoa? Who waites there? Sure you know me? Enter Keeper.
Keep. Yes, my Lord: But yet I cannot helpe you
Cran. Why? Keep. Your Grace must waight till you be call'd for. Enter Doctor Buts.
Buts. This is a Peere of Malice: I am glad I came this way so happily. The King Shall vnderstand it presently.
Cran. 'Tis Buts. The Kings Physitian, as he past along How earnestly he cast his eyes vpon me: Pray heauen he found not my disgrace: for certaine This is of purpose laid by some that hate me, (God turne their hearts, I neuer sought their malice) To quench mine Honor; they would shame to make me Wait else at doore: a fellow Councellor 'Mong Boyes, Groomes, and Lackeyes. But their pleasures Must be fulfill'd, and I attend with patience. Enter the King, and Buts, at a Windowe aboue.
Buts. Ile shew your Grace the strangest sight
King. What's that Buts? Butts. I thinke your Highnesse saw this many a day
Kin. Body a me: where is it? Butts. There my Lord: The high promotion of his Grace of Canterbury, Who holds his State at dore 'mongst Purseuants, Pages, and Foot-boyes
Kin. Ha? 'Tis he indeed. Is this the Honour they doe one another? 'Tis well there's one aboue 'em yet; I had thought They had parted so much honesty among 'em, At least good manners; as not thus to suffer A man of his Place, and so neere our fauour To dance attendance on their Lordships pleasures, And at the dore too, like a Post with Packets: By holy Mary (Butts) there's knauery; Let 'em alone, and draw the Curtaine close: We shall heare more anon.