The Famous History of the Life of King Henry the Eight
Page: 55

Is the Kings hand, and tongue, and who dare speak
One syllable against him?
Gard. Yes, yes, Sir Thomas,
There are that Dare, and I my selfe haue ventur'd
To speake my minde of him: and indeed this day,
Sir (I may tell it you) I thinke I haue
Incenst the Lords o'th' Councell, that he is
(For so I know he is, they know he is)
A most Arch-Heretique, a Pestilence
That does infect the Land: with which, they moued
Haue broken with the King, who hath so farre
Giuen eare to our Complaint, of his great Grace,
And Princely Care, fore-seeing those fell Mischiefes,
Our Reasons layd before him, hath commanded
To morrow Morning to the Councell Boord
He be conuented. He's a ranke weed Sir Thomas,
And we must root him out. From your Affaires
I hinder you too long: Good night, Sir Thomas.

Exit Gardiner and Page.

Lou. Many good nights, my Lord, I rest your seruant.
Enter King and Suffolke.

King. Charles, I will play no more to night,
My mindes not on't, you are too hard for me

Suff. Sir, I did neuer win of you before

King. But little Charles,
Nor shall not when my Fancies on my play.
Now Louel, from the Queene what is the Newes

Lou. I could not personally deliuer to her
What you commanded me, but by her woman,
I sent your Message, who return'd her thankes
In the great'st humblenesse, and desir'd your Highnesse
Most heartily to pray for her

King. What say'st thou? Ha?
To pray for her? What is she crying out?
Lou. So said her woman, and that her suffrance made
Almost each pang, a death

King. Alas good Lady

Suf. God safely quit her of her Burthen, and
With gentle Trauaile, to the gladding of
Your Highnesse with an Heire

King. 'Tis midnight Charles,
Prythee to bed, and in thy Prayres remember
Th' estate of my poore Queene. Leaue me alone,
For I must thinke of that, which company
Would not be friendly too

Suf. I wish your Highnesse
A quiet night, and my good Mistris will
Remember in my Prayers

King. Charles good night.

Exit Suffolke.

Well Sir, what followes?
Enter Sir Anthony Denny.

Den. Sir, I haue brought my Lord the Arch-byshop,