Page 1740 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

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. [165]
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. [170]
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 [175]

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; [180]
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 purposed
Concerning his imprisonment was rather −
If there be faith in men − meant for his trial [185]
And fair purgation to the world than malice,
I’m sure, in me.

KING