A spleeny Lutheran, and not wholesome to

Our cause, that she should lie i’th’ bosom of

Our hard-ruled King. Again, there is sprung up

An heretic, an arch-one, Cranmer, one

Hath crawled into the favour of the King

And is his oracle.

The nobles speak among themselves

NORFOLK

He is vexed at something.

Enter King Henry reading a schedule, and Lovell with him

SURREY

I would ’twere something that would fret the string,

The master-cord on’s heart!

SUFFOLK

The King, the King!

KING HENRY ⌈aside⌉

What piles of wealth hath he accumulated

To his own portion? And what expense by th’ hour

Seems to flow from him? How i’th’ name of thrift

Does he rake this together? (To the nobles) Now, my lords,

Saw you the Cardinal?

NORFOLK

My lord, we have

Stood here observing him. Some strange commotion

Is in his brain. He bites his lip, and starts,

Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground,

Then lays his finger on his temple, straight

Springs out into fast gait, then stops again,

Strikes his breast hard, and anon he casts

His eye against the moon. In most strange postures

We have seen him set himself.

KING HENRY

It may well be

There is a mutiny in’s mind. This morning

Papers of state he sent me to peruse

As I required, and wot you what I found

There, on my conscience put unwittingly?

Forsooth, an inventory thus importing

The several parcels of his plate, his treasure,

Rich stuffs, and ornaments of household which

I find at such proud rate that it outspeaks

Possession of a subject.

NORFOLK

It’s heaven’s will.

Some spirit put this paper in the packet

To bless your eye withal.

KING HENRY If we did think

His contemplation were above the earth

And fixed on spiritual object, he should still

Dwell in his musings. But I am afraid

His thinkings are below the moon, not worth

His serious considering.

The King takes his seat and whispers with Lovell, who then goes to the Cardinal

CARDINAL WOLSEY

Heaven forgive me!

⌈To the King⌉ Ever God bless your highness!

KING HENRY

Good my lord,

You are full of heavenly stuff, and bear the inventory

Of your best graces in your mind, the which

You were now running o’er. You have scarce time

To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span

To keep your earthly audit. Sure, in that,

I deem you an ill husband, and am glad

To have you therein my companion.

CARDINAL WOLSEY

Sir,

For holy offices I have a time; a time

To think upon the part of business which

I bear i’th’ state; and nature does require

Her times of preservation which, perforce,

I, her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal,

Must give my tendance to.

KING HENRY

You have said well.

CARDINAL WOLSEY

And ever may your highness yoke together,

As I will lend you cause, my doing well

With my well-saying.

KING HENRY

’Tis well said again,

And ’tis a kind of good deed to say well—

And yet words are no deeds. My father loved you.

He said he did, and with his deed did crown

His word upon you. Since I had my office,

I have kept you next my heart, have not alone

Employed you where high profits might come home,

But pared my present havings to bestow

My bounties upon you.

CARDINAL WOLSEY (aside) What should this mean?

SURREY ⌈aside⌉

The Lord increase this business!

KING HENRY

Have I not made you

The prime man of the state? I pray you tell me

If what I now pronounce you have found true,

And, if you may confess it, say withal

If you are bound to us or no. What say you?

CARDINAL WOLSEY

My sovereign, I confess your royal graces

Showered on me daily have been more than could

My studied purposes requite, which went

Beyond all man’s endeavours. My endeavours

Have ever come too short of my desires,

Yet filed with my abilities. Mine own ends

Have been mine so that evermore they pointed

To th’ good of your most sacred person and

The profit of the state. For your great graces

Heaped upon me, poor undeserver, I

Can nothing render but allegiant thanks,

My prayers to heaven for you, my loyalty,

Which ever has and ever shall be growing,

Till death, that winter, kill it.

KING HENRY

Fairly answered.

A loyal and obedient subject is

Therein illustrated. The honour of it

Does pay the act of it, as, i‘th’ contrary,

The foulness is the punishment. I presume

That as my hand has opened bounty to you,

My heart dropped love, my power rained honour, more

On you than any, so your hand and heart,

Your brain, and every function of your power,

Should, notwithstanding that your bond of duty,

As ’twere in love’s particular, be more

To me, your friend, than any.

CARDINAL WOLSEY

I do profess

That for your highness’ good I ever laboured

More than mine own; that am, have, and will be—