Kitabı oku: «King Henry the Eighth», sayfa 6

ACT V. SCENE 2

Lobby before the Council Chamber

Enter CRANMER, ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY

 
  CRANMER. I hope I am not too late; and yet the gentleman
    That was sent to me from the Council pray'd me
    To make great haste. All fast? What means this? Ho!
    Who waits there? Sure you know me?
 

Enter KEEPER

 
  KEEPER. Yes, my lord;
    But yet I cannot help you.
  CRANMER. Why?
  KEEPER. Your Grace must wait till you be call'd for.
 

Enter DOCTOR BUTTS

 
  CRANMER. So.
  BUTTS. [Aside] This is a piece of malice. I am glad
    I came this way so happily; the King
    Shall understand it presently.
Exit
  CRANMER. [Aside] 'Tis Butts,
    The King's physician; as he pass'd along,
    How earnestly he cast his eyes upon me!
    Pray heaven he sound not my disgrace! For certain,
    This is of purpose laid by some that hate me-
    God turn their hearts! I never sought their malice-
    To quench mine honour; they would shame to make me
    Wait else at door, a fellow councillor,
    'Mong boys, grooms, and lackeys. But their pleasures
    Must be fulfill'd, and I attend with patience.
 

Enter the KING and BUTTS at window above

 
  BUTTS. I'll show your Grace the strangest sight-
  KING. What's that, Butts?
  BUTTS. I think your Highness saw this many a day.
  KING. Body a me, where is it?
  BUTTS. There my lord:
    The high promotion of his Grace of Canterbury;
    Who holds his state at door, 'mongst pursuivants,
    Pages, and footboys.
  KING. Ha, 'tis he indeed.
    Is this the honour they do one another?
    'Tis well there's one above 'em yet. I had thought
    They had parted so much honesty among 'em-
    At least good manners-as not thus to suffer
    A man of his place, and so near our favour,
    To dance attendance on their lordships' pleasures,
    And at the door too, like a post with packets.
    By holy Mary, Butts, there's knavery!
    Let 'em alone, and draw the curtain close;
    We shall hear more anon.
 

Exeunt

ACT V. SCENE 3

The Council Chamber

A Council table brought in, with chairs and stools, and placed under the state. Enter LORD CHANCELLOR, places himself at the upper end of the table on the left band, a seat being left void above him, as for Canterbury's seat. DUKE OF SUFFOLK, DUKE OF NORFOLK, SURREY, LORD CHAMBERLAIN, GARDINER, seat themselves in order on each side; CROMWELL at lower end, as secretary. KEEPER at the door

 
  CHANCELLOR. Speak to the business, master secretary;
    Why are we met in council?
  CROMWELL. Please your honours,
    The chief cause concerns his Grace of Canterbury.
  GARDINER. Has he had knowledge of it?
  CROMWELL. Yes.
  NORFOLK. Who waits there?
  KEEPER. Without, my noble lords?
  GARDINER. Yes.
  KEEPER. My Lord Archbishop;
    And has done half an hour, to know your pleasures.
  CHANCELLOR. Let him come in.
  KEEPER. Your Grace may enter now.
 
 
CRANMER approaches the Council table
 
 
  CHANCELLOR. 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 capable
    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.
  GARDINER. 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 mouth 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
    Of the whole state; as of late days our neighbours,
    The upper Germany, can dearly witness,
    Yet freshly pitied in our memories.
  CRANMER. 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.
  SUFFOLK. Nay, my lord,
    That cannot be; you are a councillor,
    And by that virtue no man dare accuse you.
  GARDINER. My lord, because we have business of more moment,
    We will be short with you. 'Tis his Highness' pleasure
    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.
  CRANMER. Ah, my good Lord of Winchester, I thank you;
    You are always my good friend; if your 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 ye 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.
  GARDINER. 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.
  CROMWELL. My Lord of Winchester, y'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.
  GARDINER. Good Master Secretary,
    I cry your honour mercy; you may, worst
    Of all this table, say so.
  CROMWELL. Why, my lord?
  GARDINER. Do not I know you for a favourer
    Of this new sect? Ye are not sound.
  CROMWELL. Not sound?
  GARDINER. Not sound, I say.
  CROMWELL. Would you were half so honest!
    Men's prayers then would seek you, not their fears.
  GARDINER. I shall remember this bold language.
  CROMWELL. Do.
    Remember your bold life too.
  CHANCELLOR. This is too much;
    Forbear, for shame, my lords.
  GARDINER. I have done.
  CROMWELL. And I.
  CHANCELLOR. Then thus for you, my lord: it stands agreed,
    I take it, by all voices, that forthwith
    You be convey'd to th' Tower a prisoner;
    There to remain till the King's further pleasure
    Be known unto us. Are you all agreed, lords?
  ALL. We are.
  CRANMER. Is there no other way of mercy,
    But I must needs to th' Tower, my lords?
  GARDINER. What other
    Would you expect? You are strangely troublesome.
    Let some o' th' guard be ready there.
 

Enter the guard

 
  CRANMER. For me?
    Must I go like a traitor thither?
  GARDINER. Receive him,
    And see him safe i' th' Tower.
  CRANMER. Stay, good my lords,
    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.
  CHAMBERLAIN. This is the King's ring.
  SURREY. 'Tis no counterfeit.
  SUFFOLK. 'Tis the right ring, by heav'n. I told ye all,
    When we first put this dangerous stone a-rolling,
    'Twould fall upon ourselves.
  NORFOLK. Do you think, my lords,
    The King will suffer but the little finger
    Of this man to be vex'd?
  CHAMBERLAIN. 'Tis now too certain;
    How much more is his life in value with him!
    Would I were fairly out on't!
  CROMWELL. My mind gave me,
    In seeking tales and informations
    Against this man-whose honesty the devil
    And his disciples only envy at-
    Ye blew the fire that burns ye. Now have at ye!
 

Enter the KING frowning on them; he takes his seat

 
  GARDINER. Dread sovereign, how much are we bound to heaven
    In daily thanks, that gave us such a prince;
    Not only good and wise but most religious;
    One that in all obedience makes the church
    The chief aim of his honour and, to strengthen
    That holy duty, out of dear respect,
    His royal self in judgment comes to hear
    The cause betwixt her and this great offender.
  KING. You were ever good at sudden commendations,
    Bishop of Winchester. But know I come not
    To hear such flattery now, and in my presence
    They are too thin and bare to hide offences.
    To me you cannot reach you play the spaniel,
    And think with wagging of your tongue to win me;
    But whatsoe'er thou tak'st me for, I'm sure
    Thou hast a cruel nature and a bloody.
    [To CRANMER] Good man, sit down. Now let me see the proudest
    He that dares most but wag his finger at thee.
    By all that's holy, he had better starve
    Than but once think this place becomes thee not.
  SURREY. May it please your Grace-
  KING. No, sir, it does not please me.
    I had thought I had had men of some understanding
    And wisdom of my Council; but I find none.
    Was it discretion, lords, to let this man,
    This good man-few of you deserve that title-
    This honest man, wait like a lousy footboy
    At chamber door? and one as great as you are?
    Why, what a shame was this! Did my commission
    Bid ye so far forget yourselves? I gave ye
    Power as he was a councillor to try him,
    Not as a groom. There's some of ye, I see,
    More out of malice than integrity,
    Would try him to the utmost, had ye mean;
    Which ye shall never have while I live.
  CHANCELLOR. Thus far,
    My most dread sovereign, may it like your Grace
    To let my tongue excuse all. What was purpos'd
    concerning his imprisonment was rather-
    If there be faith in men-meant for his trial
    And fair purgation to the world, than malice,
    I'm sure, in me.
  KING. Well, well, my lords, respect him;
    Take him, and use him well, he's worthy of it.
    I will say thus much for him: if a prince
    May be beholding to a subject,
    Am for his love and service so to him.
    Make me no more ado, but all embrace him;
    Be friends, for shame, my lords! My Lord of Canterbury,
    I have a suit which you must not deny me:
    That is, a fair young maid that yet wants baptism;
    You must be godfather, and answer for her.
  CRANMER. The greatest monarch now alive may glory
    In such an honour; how may I deserve it,
    That am a poor and humble subject to you?
  KING. Come, come, my lord, you'd spare your spoons. You
      shall have
    Two noble partners with you: the old Duchess of Norfolk
    And Lady Marquis Dorset. Will these please you?
    Once more, my Lord of Winchester, I charge you,
    Embrace and love this man.
  GARDINER. With a true heart
    And brother-love I do it.
  CRANMER. And let heaven
    Witness how dear I hold this confirmation.
  KING. Good man, those joyful tears show thy true heart.
    The common voice, I see, is verified
    Of thee, which says thus: 'Do my Lord of Canterbury
    A shrewd turn and he's your friend for ever.'
    Come, lords, we trifle time away; I long
    To have this young one made a Christian.
    As I have made ye one, lords, one remain;
    So I grow stronger, you more honour gain.
 

Exeunt

ACT V. SCENE 4

The palace yard

Noise and tumult within. Enter PORTER and his MAN

 
  PORTER. You'll leave your noise anon, ye rascals. Do you
    take the court for Paris garden? Ye rude slaves, leave your
    gaping.
    [Within: Good master porter, I belong to th' larder.]
  PORTER. Belong to th' gallows, and be hang'd, ye rogue! Is
    this a place to roar in? Fetch me a dozen crab-tree staves,
    and strong ones; these are but switches to 'em. I'll scratch
    your heads. You must be seeing christenings? Do you look
    for ale and cakes here, you rude rascals?
  MAN. Pray, sir, be patient; 'tis as much impossible,
    Unless we sweep 'em from the door with cannons,
    To scatter 'em as 'tis to make 'em sleep
    On May-day morning; which will never be.
    We may as well push against Paul's as stir 'em.
  PORTER. How got they in, and be hang'd?
  MAN. Alas, I know not: how gets the tide in?
    As much as one sound cudgel of four foot-
    You see the poor remainder-could distribute,
    I made no spare, sir.
  PORTER. You did nothing, sir.
  MAN. I am not Samson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colbrand,
    To mow 'em down before me; but if I spar'd any
    That had a head to hit, either young or old,
    He or she, cuckold or cuckold-maker,
    Let me ne'er hope to see a chine again;
    And that I would not for a cow, God save her!
    [ Within: Do you hear, master porter?]
  PORTER. I shall be with you presently, good master puppy.
    Keep the door close, sirrah.
  MAN. What would you have me do?
  PORTER. What should you do, but knock 'em down by th'
    dozens? Is this Moorfields to muster in? Or have we some
    strange Indian with the great tool come to court, the
    women so besiege us? Bless me, what a fry of fornication
    is at door! On my Christian conscience, this one christening
    will beget a thousand: here will be father, godfather,
    and all together.
  MAN. The spoons will be the bigger, sir. There is a fellow
    somewhat near the door, he should be a brazier by his
    face, for, o' my conscience, twenty of the dog-days now
    reign in's nose; all that stand about him are under the line,
    they need no other penance. That fire-drake did I hit three
    times on the head, and three times was his nose discharged
    against me; he stands there like a mortar-piece, to blow us.
    There was a haberdasher's wife of small wit near him, that
    rail'd upon me till her pink'd porringer fell off her head,
    for kindling such a combustion in the state. I miss'd the
    meteor once, and hit that woman, who cried out 'Clubs!'
    when I might see from far some forty truncheoners draw
    to her succour, which were the hope o' th' Strand, where
    she was quartered. They fell on; I made good my place.
    At length they came to th' broomstaff to me; I defied 'em
    still; when suddenly a file of boys behind 'em, loose shot,
    deliver'd such a show'r of pebbles that I was fain to draw
    mine honour in and let 'em win the work: the devil was
    amongst 'em, I think surely.
  PORTER. These are the youths that thunder at a playhouse
    and fight for bitten apples; that no audience but the
tribulation
    of Tower-hill or the limbs of Limehouse, their dear
    brothers, are able to endure. I have some of 'em in Limbo
    Patrum, and there they are like to dance these three days;
    besides the running banquet of two beadles that is to come.
 

Enter the LORD CHAMBERLAIN

 
  CHAMBERLAIN. Mercy o' me, what a multitude are here!
    They grow still too; from all parts they are coming,
    As if we kept a fair here! Where are these porters,
    These lazy knaves? Y'have made a fine hand, fellows.
    There's a trim rabble let in: are all these
    Your faithful friends o' th' suburbs? We shall have
    Great store of room, no doubt, left for the ladies,
    When they pass back from the christening.
  PORTER. An't please your honour,
    We are but men; and what so many may do,
    Not being torn a pieces, we have done.
    An army cannot rule 'em.
  CHAMBERLAIN. As I live,
    If the King blame me for't, I'll lay ye an
    By th' heels, and suddenly; and on your heads
    Clap round fines for neglect. Y'are lazy knaves;
    And here ye lie baiting of bombards, when
    Ye should do service. Hark! the trumpets sound;
    Th' are come already from the christening.
    Go break among the press and find a way out
    To let the troops pass fairly, or I'll find
    A Marshalsea shall hold ye play these two months.
  PORTER. Make way there for the Princess.
  MAN. You great fellow,
    Stand close up, or I'll make your head ache.
  PORTER. You i' th' camlet, get up o' th' rail;
    I'll peck you o'er the pales else.
Exeunt
 

ACT V. SCENE 5

The palace

Enter TRUMPETS, sounding; then two ALDERMEN, LORD MAYOR, GARTER, CRANMER, DUKE OF NORFOLK, with his marshal's staff, DUKE OF SUFFOLK, two Noblemen bearing great standing-bowls for the christening gifts; then four Noblemen bearing a canopy, under which the DUCHESS OF NORFOLK, godmother, bearing the CHILD richly habited in a mantle, etc., train borne by a LADY; then follows the MARCHIONESS DORSET, the other godmother, and LADIES. The troop pass once about the stage, and GARTER speaks

 
GARTER. Heaven, from thy endless goodness, send prosperous life, long and ever-happy, to the high and mighty Princess of England, Elizabeth!
 

Flourish. Enter KING and guard

 
  CRANMER. [Kneeling] And to your royal Grace and the
      good Queen!
    My noble partners and myself thus pray:
    All comfort, joy, in this most gracious lady,
    Heaven ever laid up to make parents happy,
    May hourly fall upon ye!
  KING. Thank you, good Lord Archbishop.
    What is her name?
  CRANMER. Elizabeth.
  KING. Stand up, lord. [The KING kisses the
child]
    With this kiss take my blessing: God protect thee!
    Into whose hand I give thy life.
  CRANMER. Amen.
  KING. My noble gossips, y'have been too prodigal;
    I thank ye heartily. So shall this lady,
    When she has so much English.
  CRANMER. Let me speak, sir,
    For heaven now bids me; and the words I utter
    Let none think flattery, for they'll find 'em truth.
    This royal infant-heaven still move about her! -
    Though in her cradle, yet now promises
    Upon this land a thousand blessings,
    Which time shall bring to ripeness. She shall be-
    But few now living can behold that goodness-
    A pattern to all princes living with her,
    And all that shall succeed. Saba was never
    More covetous of wisdom and fair virtue
    Than this pure soul shall be. All princely graces
    That mould up such a mighty piece as this is,
    With all the virtues that attend the good,
    Shall still be doubled on her. Truth shall nurse her,
    Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her;
    She shall be lov'd and fear'd. Her own shall bless her:
    Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn,
    And hang their heads with sorrow. Good grows with her;
    In her days every man shall eat in safety
    Under his own vine what he plants, and sing
    The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours.
    God shall be truly known; and those about her
    From her shall read the perfect ways of honour,
    And by those claim their greatness, not by blood.
    Nor shall this peace sleep with her; but as when
    The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phoenix
    Her ashes new create another heir
    As great in admiration as herself,
    So shall she leave her blessedness to one-
    When heaven shall call her from this cloud of darkness-
    Who from the sacred ashes of her honour
    Shall star-like rise, as great in fame as she was,
    And so stand fix'd. Peace, plenty, love, truth, terror,
    That were the servants to this chosen infant,
    Shall then be his, and like a vine grow to him;
    Wherever the bright sun of heaven shall shine,
    His honour and the greatness of his name
    Shall be, and make new nations; he shall flourish,
    And like a mountain cedar reach his branches
    To all the plains about him; our children's children
    Shall see this and bless heaven.
  KING. Thou speakest wonders.
  CRANMER. She shall be, to the happiness of England,
    An aged princess; many days shall see her,
    And yet no day without a deed to crown it.
    Would I had known no more! But she must die-
    She must, the saints must have her-yet a virgin;
    A most unspotted lily shall she pass
    To th' ground, and all the world shall mourn her.
  KING. O Lord Archbishop,
    Thou hast made me now a man; never before
    This happy child did I get anything.
    This oracle of comfort has so pleas'd me
    That when I am in heaven I shall desire
    To see what this child does, and praise my Maker.
    I thank ye all. To you, my good Lord Mayor,
    And you, good brethren, I am much beholding;
    I have receiv'd much honour by your presence,
    And ye shall find me thankful. Lead the way, lords;
    Ye must all see the Queen, and she must thank ye,
    She will be sick else. This day, no man think
    Has business at his house; for all shall stay.
    This little one shall make it holiday.
Exeunt