Gard. My Lord, my Lord, you are a Sectary, That's the plaine truth; your painted glosse discouers To men that vnderstand you, words and weaknesse

Crom. My Lord of Winchester, y'are a little, By your good fauour, too sharpe; Men so Noble, How euer faulty, yet should finde respect For what they haue beene: 'tis a cruelty, To load a falling man

Gard. Good M[aster]. Secretary, I cry your Honour mercie; you may worst Of all this Table say so

Crom. Why my Lord? Gard. Doe not I know you for a Fauourer Of this new Sect? ye are not sound

Crom. Not sound? Gard. Not sound I say

Crom. Would you were halfe so honest: Mens prayers then would seeke you, not their feares

Gard. I shall remember this bold Language

Crom. Doe. Remember your bold life too

Cham. This is too much; Forbeare for shame my Lords

Gard. I haue done

Crom. And I

Cham. Then thus for you my Lord, it stands agreed I take it, by all voyces: That forthwith, You be conuaid to th' Tower a Prisoner; There to remaine till the Kings further pleasure Be knowne vnto vs: are you all agreed Lords

All. We are

Cran. Is there no other way of mercy, But I must needs to th' Tower my Lords? Gard. What other, Would you expect? You are strangely troublesome: Let some o'th' Guard be ready there. Enter the Guard.

Cran. For me? Must I goe like a Traytor thither? Gard. Receiue him, And see him safe i'th' Tower

Cran. Stay good my Lords, I haue a little yet to say. Looke there my Lords, By vertue of that Ring, I take my cause Out of the gripes of cruell men, and giue it To a most Noble Iudge, the King my Maister

Cham. This is the Kings Ring

Sur. 'Tis no counterfeit

Suff. 'Ts the right Ring, by Heau'n: I told ye all, When we first put this dangerous stone a rowling, 'Twold fall vpon our selues

Norf. Doe you thinke my Lords The King will suffer but the little finger Of this man to be vex'd? Cham. Tis now too certaine; How much more is his Life in value with him? Would I were fairely out on't

Crom. My mind gaue me, In seeking tales and Informations Against this man, whose honesty the Diuell And his Disciples onely enuy at, Ye blew the fire that burnes ye: now haue at ye. Enter King frowning on them, takes his Seate.

Gard. Dread Soueraigne, How much are we bound to Heauen, In dayly thankes, that gaue vs such a Prince; Not onely good and wise, but most religious: One that in all obedience, makes the Church The cheefe ayme of his Honour, and to strengthen That holy duty out of deare respect, His Royall selfe in Iudgement comes to heare The cause betwixt her, and this great offender

Kin. You were euer good at sodaine Commendations, Bishop of Winchester. But know I come not To heare such flattery now, and in my presence They are too thin, and base to hide offences, To me you cannot reach. You play the Spaniell, And thinke with wagging of your tongue to win me: But whatsoere thou tak'st me for; I'm sure Thou hast a cruell Nature and a bloody. Good man sit downe: Now let me see the proudest Hee, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee. By all that's holy, he had better starue, Then but once thinke his place becomes thee not

Sur. May it please your Grace; - Kin. No Sir, it doe's not please me, I had thought, I had had men of some vnderstanding, And wisedome of my Councell; but I finde none: Was it discretion Lords, to let this man, This good man (few of you deserue that Title) This honest man, wait like a lowsie Foot-boy At Chamber dore? and one, as great as you are? Why, what a shame was this? Did my Commission Bid ye so farre forget your selues? I gaue ye Power, as he was a Counsellour to try him, Not as a Groome: There's some of ye, I see, More out of Malice then Integrity, Would trye him to the vtmost, had ye meane, Which ye shall neuer haue while I liue

William Shakespeare
Classic Literature Library

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