SCENE II. An ante-chamber in the palace. The Life of King Henry the Eighth  Shakespeare homepage  |  Henry VIII  | Act 2, Scene 2 

 Previous scene  |  Next scene  SCENE II. An ante-chamber in the palace. 

 Enter Chamberlain, reading a letter  Chamberlain  'My lord, the horses your lordship sent for, with 

 all the care I had, I saw well chosen, ridden, and 

 furnished. They were young and handsome, and of the 

 best breed in the north. When they were ready to 

 set out for London, a man of my lord cardinal's, by 

 commission and main power, took 'em from me; with 

 this reason: His master would be served before a 

 subject, if not before the king; which stopped our 

 mouths, sir.' 

 I fear he will indeed: well, let him have them: 

 He will have all, I think. 



 Enter, to Chamberlain, NORFOLK and SUFFOLK  NORFOLK  Well met, my lord chamberlain. 

 Chamberlain  Good day to both your graces. 

 SUFFOLK  How is the king employ'd? 

 Chamberlain  I left him private, 

 Full of sad thoughts and troubles. 

 NORFOLK  What's the cause? 

 Chamberlain  It seems the marriage with his brother's wife 

 Has crept too near his conscience. 

 SUFFOLK  No, his conscience 

 Has crept too near another lady. 

 NORFOLK  'Tis so: 

 This is the cardinal's doing, the king-cardinal: 

 That blind priest, like the eldest son of fortune, 

 Turns what he list. The king will know him one day. 

 SUFFOLK  Pray God he do! he'll never know himself else. 

 NORFOLK  How holily he works in all his business! 

 And with what zeal! for, now he has crack'd the league 

 Between us and the emperor, the queen's great nephew, 

 He dives into the king's soul, and there scatters 

 Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience, 

 Fears, and despairs; and all these for his marriage: 

 And out of all these to restore the king, 

 He counsels a divorce; a loss of her 

 That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years 

 About his neck, yet never lost her lustre; 

 Of her that loves him with that excellence 

 That angels love good men with; even of her 

 That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls, 

 Will bless the king: and is not this course pious? 

 Chamberlain  Heaven keep me from such counsel! 'Tis most true 

 These news are every where; every tongue speaks 'em, 

 And every true heart weeps for't: all that dare 

 Look into these affairs see this main end, 

 The French king's sister. Heaven will one day open 

 The king's eyes, that so long have slept upon 

 This bold bad man. 

 SUFFOLK  And free us from his slavery. 

 NORFOLK  We had need pray, 

 And heartily, for our deliverance; 

 Or this imperious man will work us all 

 From princes into pages: all men's honours 

 Lie like one lump before him, to be fashion'd 

 Into what pitch he please. 

 SUFFOLK  For me, my lords, 

 I love him not, nor fear him; there's my creed: 

 As I am made without him, so I'll stand, 

 If the king please; his curses and his blessings 

 Touch me alike, they're breath I not believe in. 

 I knew him, and I know him; so I leave him 

 To him that made him proud, the pope. 

 NORFOLK  Let's in; 

 And with some other business put the king 

 From these sad thoughts, that work too much upon him: 

 My lord, you'll bear us company? 

 Chamberlain  Excuse me; 

 The king has sent me otherwhere: besides, 

 You'll find a most unfit time to disturb him: 

 Health to your lordships. 

 NORFOLK  Thanks, my good lord chamberlain. 



 Exit Chamberlain; and KING HENRY VIII draws the curtain, and sits reading pensively  SUFFOLK  How sad he looks! sure, he is much afflicted. 

 KING HENRY VIII  Who's there, ha? 

 NORFOLK  Pray God he be not angry. 

 KING HENRY VIII  Who's there, I say? How dare you thrust yourselves 

 Into my private meditations? 

 Who am I? ha? 

 NORFOLK  A gracious king that pardons all offences 

 Malice ne'er meant: our breach of duty this way 

 Is business of estate; in which we come 

 To know your royal pleasure. 

 KING HENRY VIII  Ye are too bold: 

 Go to; I'll make ye know your times of business: 

 Is this an hour for temporal affairs, ha? 



 Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY and CARDINAL CAMPEIUS, with a commission  Who's there? my good lord cardinal? O my Wolsey, 

 The quiet of my wounded conscience; 

 Thou art a cure fit for a king. 



 To CARDINAL CAMPEIUS  You're welcome, 

 Most learned reverend sir, into our kingdom: 

 Use us and it. 



 To CARDINAL WOLSEY  My good lord, have great care 

 I be not found a talker. 

 CARDINAL WOLSEY  Sir, you cannot. 

 I would your grace would give us but an hour 

 Of private conference. 

 KING HENRY VIII  [To NORFOLK and SUFFOLK] 

 We are busy; go. 

 NORFOLK  [Aside to SUFFOLK] 

 This priest has no pride in him? 

 SUFFOLK  [Aside to NORFOLK]             Not to speak of: 

 I would not be so sick though for his place: 

 But this cannot continue. 

 NORFOLK  [Aside to SUFFOLK]      If it do, 

 I'll venture one have-at-him. 

 SUFFOLK  [Aside to NORFOLK]          I another. 



 Exeunt NORFOLK and SUFFOLK  CARDINAL WOLSEY  Your grace has given a precedent of wisdom 

 Above all princes, in committing freely 

 Your scruple to the voice of Christendom: 

 Who can be angry now? what envy reach you? 

 The Spaniard, tied blood and favour to her, 

 Must now confess, if they have any goodness, 

 The trial just and noble. All the clerks, 

 I mean the learned ones, in Christian kingdoms 

 Have their free voices: Rome, the nurse of judgment, 

 Invited by your noble self, hath sent 

 One general tongue unto us, this good man, 

 This just and learned priest, Cardinal Campeius; 

 Whom once more I present unto your highness. 

 KING HENRY VIII  And once more in mine arms I bid him welcome, 

 And thank the holy conclave for their loves: 

 They have sent me such a man I would have wish'd for. 

 CARDINAL CAMPEIUS  Your grace must needs deserve all strangers' loves, 

 You are so noble. To your highness' hand 

 I tender my commission; by whose virtue, 

 The court of Rome commanding, you, my lord 

 Cardinal of York, are join'd with me their servant 

 In the unpartial judging of this business. 

 KING HENRY VIII  Two equal men. The queen shall be acquainted 

 Forthwith for what you come. Where's Gardiner? 

 CARDINAL WOLSEY  I know your majesty has always loved her 

 So dear in heart, not to deny her that 

 A woman of less place might ask by law: 

 Scholars allow'd freely to argue for her. 

 KING HENRY VIII  Ay, and the best she shall have; and my favour 

 To him that does best: God forbid else. Cardinal, 

 Prithee, call Gardiner to me, my new secretary: 

 I find him a fit fellow. 



 Exit CARDINAL WOLSEY 

 Re-enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, with GARDINER  CARDINAL WOLSEY  [Aside to GARDINER]  Give me your hand much joy and 

 favour to you; 

 You are the king's now. 

 GARDINER  [Aside to CARDINAL WOLSEY] 

 But to be commanded 

 For ever by your grace, whose hand has raised me. 

 KING HENRY VIII  Come hither, Gardiner. 



 Walks and whispers  CARDINAL CAMPEIUS  My Lord of York, was not one Doctor Pace 

 In this man's place before him? 

 CARDINAL WOLSEY  Yes, he was. 

 CARDINAL CAMPEIUS  Was he not held a learned man? 

 CARDINAL WOLSEY  Yes, surely. 

 CARDINAL CAMPEIUS  Believe me, there's an ill opinion spread then 

 Even of yourself, lord cardinal. 

 CARDINAL WOLSEY  How! of me? 

 CARDINAL CAMPEIUS  They will not stick to say you envied him, 

 And fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous, 

 Kept him a foreign man still; which so grieved him, 

 That he ran mad and died. 

 CARDINAL WOLSEY  Heaven's peace be with him! 

 That's Christian care enough: for living murmurers 

 There's places of rebuke. He was a fool; 

 For he would needs be virtuous: that good fellow, 

 If I command him, follows my appointment: 

 I will have none so near else. Learn this, brother, 

 We live not to be grip'd by meaner persons. 

 KING HENRY VIII  Deliver this with modesty to the queen. 



 Exit GARDINER  The most convenient place that I can think of 

 For such receipt of learning is Black-Friars; 

 There ye shall meet about this weighty business. 

 My Wolsey, see it furnish'd. O, my lord, 

 Would it not grieve an able man to leave 

 So sweet a bedfellow? But, conscience, conscience! 

 O, 'tis a tender place; and I must leave her. 



 Exeunt  Shakespeare homepage  |  Henry VIII  | Act 2, Scene 2 

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