NORFOLK

If you will now unite in your complaints,

And force them with a constancy, the Cardinal

Cannot stand under them. If you omit

The offer of this time, I cannot promise

But that you shall sustain more new disgraces

With these you bear already.

SURREY

I am joyful

To meet the least occasion that may give me

Remembrance of my father-in-law the Duke,

To be revenged on him.

SUFFOLK

Which of the peers

Have uncontemned gone by him, or at least

Strangely neglected? When did he regard

The stamp of nobleness in any person

Out of himself?

LORD CHAMBERLAIN My lords, you speak your pleasures.

What he deserves of you and me I know;

What we can do to him—though now the time

Gives way to us—I much fear. If you cannot

Bar his access to th’ King, never attempt

Anything on him, for he hath a witchcraft

Over the King in’s tongue.

NORFOLK

O, fear him not.

His spell in that is out. The King hath found

Matter against him that for ever mars

The honey of his language. No, he’s settled,

Not to come off, in his displeasure.

SURREY

Sir,

I should be glad to hear such news as this

Once every hour.

NORFOLK Believe it, this is true.

In the divorce his contrary proceedings

Are all unfolded, wherein he appears

As I would wish mine enemy.

SURREY

How came

His practices to light?

SUFFOLK Most strangely.

SURREY

O, how, how?

SUFFOLK

The Cardinal’s letters to the Pope miscarried,

And came to th’eye o’th’ King, wherein was read

How that the Cardinal did entreat his holiness

To stay the judgement o‘th’ divorce, for if

It did take place, ‘I do’, quoth he, ‘perceive

My king is tangled in affection to

A creature of the Queen’s, Lady Anne Boleyn’.

SURREY

Has the King this?

SUFFOLK

Believe it.

SURREY

Will this work?

LORD CHAMBERLAIN

The King in this perceives him how he coasts

And hedges his own way. But in this point

All his tricks founder, and he brings his physic

After his patient’s death. The King already

Hath married the fair lady.

SURREY

Would he had.

SUFFOLK

May you be happy in your wish, my lord,

For I profess you have it.

SURREY Now all my joy

Trace the conjunction.

SUFFOLK

My amen to’t.

NORFOLK

All men’s.

SUFFOLK

There’s order given for her coronation.

Marry, this is yet but young, and may be left

To some ears unrecounted. But, my lords,

She is a gallant creature, and complete

In mind and feature. I persuade me, from her

Will fall some blessing to this land which shall

In it be memorized.

SURREY

But will the King

Digest this letter of the Cardinal’s?

The Lord forbid!

NORFOLK

Marry, amen.

SUFFOLK

No, no—

There be more wasps that buzz about his nose

Will make this sting the sooner. Cardinal Campeius

Is stol’n away to Rome; hath ta’en no leave;

Has left the cause o’th’ King unhandled, and

Is posted as the agent of our Cardinal

To second all his plot. I do assure you

The King cried ‘Ha!’ at this.

LORD CHAMBERLAIN

Now God incense him,

And let him cry ‘Ha!’ louder.

NORFOLK

But, my lord,

When returns Cranmer?

SUFFOLK

He is returned in his opinions, which

Have satisfied the King for his divorce,

Together with all famous colleges,

Almost, in Christendom. Shortly, I believe,

His second marriage shall be published, and

Her coronation. Katherine no more

Shall be called ‘Queen’, but ‘Princess Dowager’,

And ‘widow to Prince Arthur’.

NORFOLK

This same Cranmer’s

A worthy fellow, and hath ta’en much pain

In the King’s business.

SUFFOLK

He has, and we shall see him

For it an archbishop.

NORFOLK

So I hear.

SUFFOLK

’Tis so.

Enter Cardinal Wolsey and Cromwell

The Cardinal.

NORFOLK

Observe, observe—he’s moody.

They stand apart and observe Wolsey and Cromwell

CARDINAL WOLSEY (to Cromwell)

The packet, Cromwell—gave’t you the King?

CROMWELI,

To his own hand, in’s bedchamber.

CARDINAL WOLSEY

Looked he

O’th’ inside of the paper?

CROMWELL,

Presently

He did unseal them, and the first he viewed

He did it with a serious mind; a heed

Was in his countenance. You he bade

Attend him here this morning.

CARDINAL WOLSEY

Is he ready

To come abroad?

CROMWELL I think by this he is.

CARDINAL WOLSEY Leave me a while.

Exit Cromwell

(Aside) It shall be to the Duchess of Alençon,

The French King’s sister—he shall marry her.

Anne Boleyn? No, I’ll no Anne Boleyns for him.

There’s more in’t than fair visage. Boleyn?

No, we’ll no Boleyns. Speedily I wish

To hear from Rome. The Marchioness of Pembroke?

The nobles speak among themselves

NORFOLK

He’s discontented.

SUFFOLK

Maybe he hears the King

Does whet his anger to him.

SURREY

Sharp enough,

Lord, for thy justice.

CARDINAL WOLSEY (aside)

The late Queen’s gentlewoman? A knight’s daughter

To be her mistress’ mistress? The Queen’s queen?

This candle burns not clear; ‘tis I must snuff it,

Then out it goes. What though I know her virtuous

And well deserving? Yet I know her for