THE COUNCIL CHAMBER.

Enter the Lord Chancellor, the Duke of SUFFOLK, Earl of SURREY, Lord Chamberlain, GARDINER, and CROMWELL. The Chancellor places himself at the upper end of the table on the left hand; a seat being left void above him, as for the Archbishop of Canterbury. The rest seat themselves in orCROMWELL at the lower end, as

der on each side.

Secretary.

Chan. Speak to the business, master secretary: Why are we met in council?

Crom.

Please your honours,

The chief cause concerns his grace of Canterbury.

Gar. Has he had knowledge of it?

Crom. Yes.

Nor. Who waits there?

Doork. Without, my noble lords?

Gar. Yes.

Doork. My lord archbishop;

And has done half an hour, to know your pleasures. Chan. Let him come in.

king now is. The matter of this passage is thus given by Fox: "On the morrow, about nine of the clock before noone, the councell sent a gentleman usher for the archbishop, who, when hee came to the councell chamber doore, could not be let in, but of purpose, as it seemed, was compelled there to wait among the pages, Jackies, and serving men al alone. Doctor Buts, the kings physician, resorting that way, and espying how my lord of Canterbury was handled, went to the kings highnesse and said, My lord of Canterbury, if it please your grace, is well promoted : for now he is become a lackey or a serving man; for yonder he standeth this half hower at the councell chamber doore amongst them.' It is not so,' quoth the king, I trowe; nor the councell hath not so little discretion as to use the metropolitan of the realm in that sort, specially being one of their own number. But let them alone,' sayd the king, and we shall heare more soone.'" H.

Doork

Your grace may enter now.'

[CRANMER approaches the Council table.

Chan. My good lord archbishop, I am 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 culpable

5

Of our flesh; few are angels: out of which frailty And want of wisdom, you that best should teach us Have misdemean'd yourself, and not a little,

Toward the king first, then his laws, in filling The whole realm, by your teaching, and your chaplains,

(For so we are inform'd,) with new opinions, Divers, and dangerous; which are heresies, And, not reform'd, may prove pernicious.

Gar. Which reformation must be sudden too, My noble lords; for those that tame wild horses Pace 'em not in their hands to make 'em gentle, But stop their mouths with stubborn bits, and spur

'em,

Till they obey the manage. If we suffer,
Out of our easiness and childish pity

To one man's honour, this contagious sickness,
Farewell all physic: And what follows then?
Commotions, uproars, with a general taint

4 The old stage direction at the commencement of this scene is "A councell table brought in with chayres and stooles and placed under the state." Our ancestors were contented to be told that the same spot, without any change of its appearance, except perhaps the drawing back of a curtain, was at once the outside and the inside of the council chamber.

The original here reads, " And capable of our flesh;" out of which it is not easy to extract any certain meaning. Malone changed and capable" to " incapable;" which change betters the sense indeed, but takes a very questionable liberty with the Monck Mason proposed culpable, and the same word is substituted in the copy of the second folio lately discovered by Mr. Collier.

text.

H.

Of the whole state; as of late days our neighbours,
The upper Germany, can dearly witness,
Yet freshly pitied in our memories.

Cran. My good lords, hitherto, in all the progress
Both of my life and office, I have labour'd,
And with no little study, that my teaching
And the strong course of my authority
Might go one way, and safely; and the end
Was ever, to do well: nor is there living
(I speak it with a single heart, my lords)
A man that more detests, more stirs against,
Both in his private conscience and his place,
Defacers of a public peace, than I do.
'Pray Heaven, the king may never find a heart
With less allegiance in it! Men, that make
Envy and crooked malice nourishment,

Dare bite the best. I do beseech your lordships,
That in this case of justice my accusers,

Be what they will, may stand forth face to face,
And freely urge against me.

Suf.

Nay, my lord, That cannot be: you are a counsellor,

And by that virtue no man dare accuse you.

Gar. My lord, because we have business of more

moment,

We will be short with you. "Tis his highness' pleas

ure,

And our consent, for better trial of you,

From hence you be committed to the Tower;
Where, being but a private man again,

You shall know many dare accuse you boldly,
More than, I fear, you are provided for.

Cran. Ah! my good lord of Winchester, I thank

you;

You are always my good friend: if vour will pass,

I shall both find your lordship judge and juror,
You are so merciful.

I see your end;

'Tis my undoing. Love and meekness, lord,
Become a churchman better than ambition:
Win straying souls with modesty again,
Cast none away. That I shall clear myself,
Lay all the weight you can upon my patience,
I make as little doubt, as you do conscience
In doing daily wrongs. I could say more,
But reverence to your calling makes me modest.
Gar. 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."
Crom. My lord of Winchester, you 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.

Gar.

Good master secretary,

I cry your honour mercy: you may, worst
Of all this table, say so.

Crom.

Why, my lord?

Gar. Do not I know you for a favourer

Of this new sect? ye are not sound.

Crom

Not sound!

Gar. Not sound, I say.

Crom.

'Would you were half so honest

Men's prayers then would seek you, not their fears

Gar. I shall remember this bold language.
Crom.

Remember your bold life too.

Chan.

Forbear, for shame, my lords.

Do

This is too much;

Those that understand you, under this painted gloss, this fan outside, discover your empty talk and your false reasoning.

I have done.

And I.

Gar.

Crom.

Chan. Then thus for you, my lord. - It stands

agreed,

I take it, by all voices, that forthwith

You be convey'd to the Tower a prisoner;
There to remain, till the king's further pleasure
Be known unto us. Are you all agreed, lords?
All. We are.
Cran.

Is there no other way of mercy, But I must needs to the Tower, my lords?

Gar.

What other

Would you expect? You are strangely troublesome! Let some o'the guard be ready there.

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
Cham. This is the king's ring."

It seems to have been a custom, begun probably before the regal power experienced the restraints of law, for every monarch. to have a ring, the temporary possession of which invested the holder with the same authority as the owner himself could exercise. The production of it was sufficient to suspend the execution of the law; it procured indemnity for offences committed, and imposed acquiescence and submission to whatever was done under its authority. The traditional story of the earl of Essex, Queen Elizabeth, and the countess of Nottingham, long considered as an incident of a romance, is generally known, and now as generally credited