prompt:
Chapter: Enter the Duke of Norfolke, Duke of Suffolke, Lord Surrey, and
Lord
Chamberlaine.

Norf. If you will now vnite in your Complaints,
    And force them with a Constancy, the Cardinall
    Cannot stand vnder them. If you omit
    The offer of this time, I cannot promise,
    But that you shall sustaine moe new disgraces,
    With these you beare alreadie

    Sur. I am ioyfull
    To meete the least occasion, that may giue me
    Remembrance of my Father-in-Law, the Duke,
    To be reueng'd on him

    Suf. Which of the Peeres
    Haue vncontemn'd gone by him, or at least
    Strangely neglected? When did he regard
    The stampe of Noblenesse in any person
    Out of himselfe?
    Cham. My Lords, you speake your pleasures:
    What he deserues of you and me, I know:
    What we can do to him (though now the time
            Giues way to vs) I much feare. If you cannot
    Barre his accesse to'th' King, neuer attempt
    Any thing on him: for he hath a Witchcraft
    Ouer the King in's Tongue

    Nor. O feare him not,
    His spell in that is out: the King hath found
    Matter against him, that for euer marres
    The Hony of his Language. No, he's setled
    (Not to come off) in his displeasure

    Sur. Sir,
    I should be glad to heare such Newes as this
    Once euery houre

    Nor. Beleeue it, this is true.
    In the Diuorce, his contrarie proceedings
    Are all vnfolded: wherein he appeares,
    As I would wish mine Enemy

    Sur. How came
    His practises to light?
    Suf. Most strangely

    Sur. O how? how?
    Suf. The Cardinals Letters to the Pope miscarried,
    And came to th' eye o'th' King, wherein was read
    How that the Cardinall did intreat his Holinesse
    To stay the Iudgement o'th' Diuorce; for if
    It did take place, I do (quoth he) perceiue
    My King is tangled in affection, to
    A Creature of the Queenes, Lady Anne Bullen

    Sur. Ha's the King this?
    Suf. Beleeue it

    Sur. Will this worke?
    Cham. The King in this perceiues him, how he coasts
    And hedges his owne way. But in this point
    All his trickes founder, and he brings his Physicke
    After his Patients death; the King already
    Hath married the faire Lady

    Sur. Would he had

    Suf. May you be happy in your wish my Lord,
    For I professe you haue it

    Sur. Now all my ioy
    Trace the Coniunction

    Suf. My Amen too't

    Nor. All mens

    Suf. There's order giuen for her Coronation:
    Marry this is yet but yong, and may be left
    To some eares vnrecounted. But my Lords
    She is a gallant Creature, and compleate
    In minde and feature. I perswade me, from her
    Will fall some blessing to this Land, which shall
    In it be memoriz'd

    Sur. But will the King
    Digest this Letter of the Cardinals?
    The Lord forbid

    Nor. Marry Amen

    Suf. No, no:
    There be moe Waspes that buz about his Nose,
    Will make this sting the sooner. Cardinall Campeius,
    Is stolne away to Rome, hath 'tane no leaue,
    Ha's left the cause o'th' King vnhandled, and
    Is posted as the Agent of our Cardinall,
    To second all his plot. I do assure you,
    The King cry'de Ha, at this

    Cham. Now God incense him,
    And let him cry Ha, lowder

    Norf. But my Lord
    When returnes Cranmer?
    Suf. He is return'd in his Opinions, which
    Haue satisfied the King for his Diuorce,
    Together with all famous Colledges
    Almost in Christendome: shortly (I beleeue)
    His second Marriage shall be publishd, and
    Her Coronation. Katherine no more
    Shall be call'd Queene, but Princesse Dowager,
    And Widdow to Prince Arthur

    Nor. This same Cranmer's
    A worthy Fellow, and hath tane much paine
    In the Kings businesse

    Suff. He ha's, and we shall see him
    For it, an Arch-byshop

    Nor. So I heare

    Suf. 'Tis so.
    Enter Wolsey and Cromwell.

    The Cardinall

    Nor. Obserue, obserue, hee's moody

    Car. The Packet Cromwell,
    Gau't you the King?
    Crom. To his owne hand, in's Bed-chamber

    Card. Look'd he o'th' inside of the Paper?
    Crom. Presently
    He did vnseale them, and the first he view'd,
    He did it with a Serious minde: a heede
    Was in his countenance. You he bad
    Attend him heere this Morning

    Card. Is he ready to come abroad?
    Crom. I thinke by this he is

    Card. Leaue me a while.

    Exit Cromwell.

    It shall be to the Dutches of Alanson,
    The French Kings Sister; He shall marry her.
    Anne Bullen? No: Ile no Anne Bullens for him,
    There's more in't then faire Visage. Bullen?
    No, wee'l no Bullens: Speedily I wish
    To heare from Rome. The Marchionesse of Penbroke?
    Nor. He's discontented

    Suf. Maybe he heares the King
    Does whet his Anger to him

    Sur. Sharpe enough,
    Lord for thy Iustice

    Car. The late Queenes Gentlewoman?
    A Knights Daughter
    To be her Mistris Mistris? The Queenes, Queene?
    This Candle burnes not cleere, 'tis I must snuffe it,
    Then out it goes. What though I know her vertuous
    And well deseruing? yet I know her for
    A spleeny Lutheran, and not wholsome to
    Our cause, that she should lye i'th' bosome of
    Our hard rul'd King. Againe, there is sprung vp
    An Heretique, an Arch-one; Cranmer, one
    Hath crawl'd into the fauour of the King,
    And is his Oracle

    Nor. He is vex'd at something.
    Enter King, reading of a Scedule.

    Sur. I would 'twer somthing y would fret the string,
    The Master-cord on's heart

    Suf. The King, the King

    King. What piles of wealth hath he accumulated
    To his owne portion? And what expence by'th' houre
    Seemes to flow from him? How, i'th' name of Thrift
    Does he rake this together? Now my Lords,
    Saw you the Cardinall?
    Nor. My Lord, we haue
    Stood heere obseruing him. Some strange Commotion
    Is in his braine: He bites his lip, and starts,
    Stops on a sodaine, lookes vpon the ground,
    Then layes his finger on his Temple: straight
    Springs out into fast gate, then stops againe,
    Strikes his brest hard, and anon, he casts
    His eye against the Moone: in most strange Postures
    We haue seene him set himselfe

    King. It may well be,
    There is a mutiny in's minde. This morning,
    Papers of State he sent me, to peruse
    As I requir'd: and wot you what I found
There (on my Conscience put vnwittingly)
    Forsooth an Inuentory, thus importing
    The seuerall parcels of his Plate, his Treasure,
    Rich Stuffes and Ornaments of Houshold, which
    I finde at such proud Rate, that it out-speakes
    Possession of a Subiect

    Nor. It's Heauens will,
    Some Spirit put this paper in the Packet,
    To blesse your eye withall

    King. If we did thinke
    His Contemplation were aboue the earth,
    And fixt on Spirituall obiect, he should still
    Dwell in his Musings, but I am affraid
    His Thinkings are below the Moone, not worth
    His serious considering.

    King takes his Seat, whispers Louell, who goes to the Cardinall.

    Car. Heauen forgiue me,
    Euer God blesse your Highnesse

    King. Good my Lord,
    You are full of Heauenly stuffe, and beare the Inuentory
    Of your best Graces, in your minde; the which
    You were now running o're: you haue scarse time
    To steale from Spirituall leysure, a briefe span
    To keepe your earthly Audit, sure in that
    I deeme you an ill Husband, and am glad
    To haue you therein my Companion

    Car. Sir,
    For Holy Offices I haue a time; a time
    To thinke vpon the part of businesse, which
    I beare i'th' State: and Nature does require
    Her times of preseruation, which perforce
    I her fraile sonne, among'st my Brethren mortall,
    Must giue my tendance to

    King. You haue said well

    Car. And euer may your Highnesse yoake together,
    (As I will lend you cause) my doing well,
    With my well saying

    King. 'Tis well said agen,
    And 'tis a kinde of good deede to say well,
    And yet words are no deeds. My Father lou'd you,
    He said he did, and with his deed did Crowne
    His word vpon you. Since I had my Office,
    I haue kept you next my Heart, haue not alone
    Imploy'd you where high Profits might come home,
    But par'd my present Hauings, to bestow
    My Bounties vpon you

    Car. What should this meane?
    Sur. The Lord increase this businesse

    King. Haue I not made you
    The prime man of the State? I pray you tell me,
    If what I now pronounce, you haue found true:
    And if you may confesse it, say withall
    If you are bound to vs, or no. What say you?
    Car. My Soueraigne, I confesse your Royall graces
    Showr'd on me daily, haue bene more then could
    My studied purposes requite, which went
    Beyond all mans endeauors. My endeauors,
    Haue euer come too short of my Desires,
    Yet fill'd with my Abilities: Mine owne ends
    Haue beene mine so, that euermore they pointed
    To'th' good of your most Sacred Person, and
    The profit of the State. For your great Graces
    Heap'd vpon me (poore Vndeseruer) I
    Can nothing render but Allegiant thankes,
    My Prayres to heauen for you; my Loyaltie
    Which euer ha's, and euer shall be growing,
    Till death (that Winter) kill it

    King. Fairely answer'd:
    A Loyall, and obedient Subiect is
    Therein illustrated, the Honor of it
    Does pay the Act of it, as i'th' contrary
    The fowlenesse is the punishment. I presume,
    That as my hand ha's open'd Bounty to you,
    My heart drop'd Loue, my powre rain'd Honor, more
    On you, then any: So your Hand, and Heart,
    Your Braine, and euery Function of your power,
    Should, notwithstanding that your bond of duty,
    As 'twer in Loues particular, be more
    To me your Friend, then any

    Car. I do professe,
    That for your Highnesse good, I euer labour'd
    More then mine owne: that am, haue, and will be
    (Though all the world should cracke their duty to you,
     And throw it from their Soule, though perils did
     Abound, as thicke as thought could make 'em, and
     Appeare in formes more horrid) yet my Duty,
    As doth a Rocke against the chiding Flood,
    Should the approach of this wilde Riuer breake,
    And stand vnshaken yours

    King. 'Tis Nobly spoken:
    Take notice Lords, he ha's a Loyall brest,
    For you haue seene him open't. Read o're this,
    And after this, and then to Breakfast with
    What appetite you haue.

    Exit King, frowning vpon the Cardinall, the Nobles throng after
    him
    smiling, and whispering.

    Car. What should this meane?
    What sodaine Anger's this? How haue I reap'd it?
    He parted Frowning from me, as if Ruine
    Leap'd from his Eyes. So lookes the chafed Lyon
    Vpon the daring Huntsman that has gall'd him:
    Then makes him nothing. I must reade this paper:
    I feare the Story of his Anger. 'Tis so:
    This paper ha's vndone me: 'Tis th' Accompt
    Of all that world of Wealth I haue drawne together
    For mine owne ends, (Indeed to gaine the Popedome,
            And fee my Friends in Rome.) O Negligence!
    Fit for a Foole to fall by: What crosse Diuell
    Made me put this maine Secret in the Packet
    I sent the King? Is there no way to cure this?
    No new deuice to beate this from his Braines?
    I know 'twill stirre him strongly; yet I know
    A way, if it take right, in spight of Fortune
    Will bring me off againe. What's this? To th' Pope?
    The Letter (as I liue) with all the Businesse
    I writ too's Holinesse. Nay then, farewell:
    I haue touch'd the highest point of all my Greatnesse,
    And from that full Meridian of my Glory,
    I haste now to my Setting. I shall fall
    Like a bright exhalation in the Euening,
    And no man see me more.
    Enter to Woolsey, the Dukes of Norfolke and Suffolke, the Earle
    of Surrey,
    and the Lord Chamberlaine.

    Nor. Heare the Kings pleasure Cardinall,
    Who commands you
    To render vp the Great Seale presently
    Into our hands, and to Confine your selfe
    To Asher-house, my Lord of Winchesters,
    Till you heare further from his Highnesse

    Car. Stay:
    Where's your Commission? Lords, words cannot carrie
    Authority so weighty

    Suf. Who dare crosse 'em,
    Bearing the Kings will from his mouth expressely?
    Car. Till I finde more then will, or words to do it,
    (I meane your malice) know, Officious Lords,
    I dare, and must deny it. Now I feele
    Of what course Mettle ye are molded, Enuy,
    How eagerly ye follow my Disgraces
    As if it fed ye, and how sleeke and wanton
    Ye appeare in euery thing may bring my ruine?
    Follow your enuious courses, men of Malice;
    You haue Christian warrant for 'em, and no doubt
    In time will finde their fit Rewards. That Seale
    You aske with such a Violence, the King
    (Mine, and your Master) with his owne hand, gaue me:
    Bad me enioy it, with the Place, and Honors
    During my life; and to confirme his Goodnesse,
    Ti'de it by Letters Patents. Now, who'll take it?
    Sur. The King that gaue it

    Car. It must be himselfe then

    Sur. Thou art a proud Traitor, Priest

    Car. Proud Lord, thou lyest:
    Within these fortie houres, Surrey durst better
    Haue burnt that Tongue, then saide so

    Sur. Thy Ambition
    (Thou Scarlet sinne) robb'd this bewailing Land
    Of Noble Buckingham, my Father-in-Law,
    The heads of all thy Brother-Cardinals,
    (With thee, and all thy best parts bound together)
    Weigh'd not a haire of his. Plague of your policie,
    You sent me Deputie for Ireland,
    Farre from his succour; from the King, from all
    That might haue mercie on the fault, thou gau'st him:
    Whil'st your great Goodnesse, out of holy pitty,
    Absolu'd him with an Axe

    Wol. This, and all else
    This talking Lord can lay vpon my credit,
    I answer, is most false. The Duke by Law
    Found his deserts. How innocent I was
    From any priuate malice in his end,
    His Noble Iurie, and foule Cause can witnesse.
    If I lou'd many words, Lord, I should tell you,
    You haue as little Honestie, as Honor,
    That in the way of Loyaltie, and Truth,
    Toward the King, my euer Roiall Master,
    Dare mate a sounder man then Surrie can be,
    And all that loue his follies

    Sur. By my Soule,
    Your long Coat (Priest) protects you,
    Thou should'st feele
    My Sword i'th' life blood of thee else. My Lords,
    Can ye endure to heare this Arrogance?
    And from this Fellow? If we liue thus tamely,
    To be thus Iaded by a peece of Scarlet,
    Farewell Nobilitie: let his Grace go forward,
    And dare vs with his Cap, like Larkes

    Card. All Goodnesse
    Is poyson to thy Stomacke

    Sur. Yes, that goodnesse
    Of gleaning all the Lands wealth into one,
    Into your owne hands (Card'nall) by Extortion:
    The goodnesse of your intercepted Packets
    You writ to'th Pope, against the King: your goodnesse
    Since you prouoke me, shall be most notorious.
    My Lord of Norfolke, as you are truly Noble,
    As you respect the common good, the State
    Of our despis'd Nobilitie, our Issues,
    (Whom if he liue, will scarse be Gentlemen)
    Produce the grand summe of his sinnes, the Articles
    Collected from his life. Ile startle you
    Worse then the Sacring Bell, when the browne Wench
    Lay kissing in your Armes, Lord Cardinall

    Car. How much me thinkes, I could despise this man,
    But that I am bound in Charitie against it

    Nor. Those Articles, my Lord, are in the Kings hand:
    But thus much, they are foule ones

    Wol. So much fairer
    And spotlesse, shall mine Innocence arise,
    When the King knowes my Truth

    Sur. This cannot saue you:
    I thanke my Memorie, I yet remember
    Some of these Articles, and out they shall.
    Now, if you can blush, and crie guiltie Cardinall,
    You'l shew a little Honestie

    Wol. Speake on Sir,
    I dare your worst Obiections: If I blush,
    It is to see a Nobleman want manners

    Sur. I had rather want those, then my head;
    Haue at you.
    First, that without the Kings assent or knowledge,
    You wrought to be a Legate, by which power
    You maim'd the Iurisdiction of all Bishops

    Nor. Then, That in all you writ to Rome, or else
    To Forraigne Princes, Ego & Rex meus
    Was still inscrib'd: in which you brought the King
    To be your Seruant

    Suf. Then, that without the knowledge
    Either of King or Councell, when you went
    Ambassador to the Emperor, you made bold
    To carry into Flanders, the Great Seale

    Sur. Item, You sent a large Commission
    To Gregory de Cassado, to conclude
    Without the Kings will, or the States allowance,
    A League betweene his Highnesse, and Ferrara

    Suf. That out of meere Ambition, you haue caus'd
    Your holy-Hat to be stampt on the Kings Coine

    Sur. Then, That you haue sent inumerable substance,
    (By what meanes got, I leaue to your owne conscience)
    To furnish Rome, and to prepare the wayes
    You haue for Dignities, to the meere vndooing
    Of all the Kingdome. Many more there are,
    Which since they are of you, and odious,
    I will not taint my mouth with

    Cham. O my Lord,
    Presse not a falling man too farre: 'tis Vertue:
    His faults lye open to the Lawes, let them
    (Not you) correct him. My heart weepes to see him
    So little, of his great Selfe

    Sur. I forgiue him

    Suf. Lord Cardinall, the Kings further pleasure is,
    Because all those things you haue done of late
    By your power Legatine within this Kingdome,
    Fall into 'th' compasse of a Premunire;
That therefore such a Writ be sued against you,
     To forfeit all your Goods, Lands, Tenements,
     Castles, and whatsoeuer, and to be
     Out of the Kings protection. This is my Charge

     Nor. And so wee'l leaue you to your Meditations
     How to liue better. For your stubborne answer
     About the giuing backe the Great Seale to vs,
     The King shall know it, and (no doubt) shal thanke you.
     So fare you well, my little good Lord Cardinall.

     Exeunt. all but Wolsey.

     Wol. So farewell, to the little good you beare me.
     Farewell? A long farewell to all my Greatnesse.
     This is the state of Man; to day he puts forth
     The tender Leaues of hopes, to morrow Blossomes,
     And beares his blushing Honors thicke vpon him:
     The third day, comes a Frost; a killing Frost,
     And when he thinkes, good easie man, full surely
     His Greatnesse is a ripening, nippes his roote,
     And then he fals as I do. I haue ventur'd
     Like little wanton Boyes that swim on bladders:
     This many Summers in a Sea of Glory,
     But farre beyond my depth: my high-blowne Pride
     At length broke vnder me, and now ha's left me
     Weary, and old with Seruice, to the mercy
     Of a rude streame, that must for euer hide me.
     Vaine pompe, and glory of this World, I hate ye,
     I feele my heart new open'd. Oh how wretched
     Is that poore man, that hangs on Princes fauours?
     There is betwixt that smile we would aspire too,
     That sweet Aspect of Princes, and their ruine,
     More pangs, and feares then warres, or women haue;
And when he falles, he falles like Lucifer,
    Neuer to hope againe.
    Enter Cromwell, standing amazed.

    Why how now Cromwell?
    Crom. I haue no power to speake Sir

    Car. What, amaz'd
    At my misfortunes? Can thy Spirit wonder
    A great man should decline. Nay, and you weep
    I am falne indeed

    Crom. How does your Grace

    Card. Why well:
    Neuer so truly happy, my good Cromwell,
    I know my selfe now, and I feele within me,
    A peace aboue all earthly Dignities,
    A still, and quiet Conscience. The King ha's cur'd me,
    I humbly thanke his Grace: and from these shoulders
    These ruin'd Pillers, out of pitty, taken
A loade, would sinke a Nauy, (too much Honor.)
    O 'tis a burden Cromwel, 'tis a burden
    Too heauy for a man, that hopes for Heauen

    Crom. I am glad your Grace,
    Ha's made that right vse of it

    Card. I hope I haue:
    I am able now (me thinkes)
(Out of a Fortitude of Soule, I feele)
    To endure more Miseries, and greater farre
    Then my Weake-hearted Enemies, dare offer.
    What Newes abroad?
    Crom. The heauiest, and the worst,
    Is your displeasure with the King

    Card. God blesse him

    Crom. The next is, that Sir Thomas Moore is chosen
    Lord Chancellor, in your place

    Card. That's somewhat sodain.
    But he's a Learned man. May he continue
    Long in his Highnesse fauour, and do Iustice
    For Truths-sake, and his Conscience; that his bones,
    When he ha's run his course, and sleepes in Blessings,
    May haue a Tombe of Orphants teares wept on him.
    What more?
    Crom. That Cranmer is return'd with welcome;
    Install'd Lord Arch-byshop of Canterbury

    Card. That's Newes indeed

    Crom. Last, that the Lady Anne,
    Whom the King hath in secrecie long married,
    This day was view'd in open, as his Queene,
    Going to Chappell: and the voyce is now
    Onely about her Corronation

    Card. There was the waight that pull'd me downe.
    O Cromwell,
    The King ha's gone beyond me: All my Glories
    In that one woman, I haue lost for euer.
    No Sun, shall euer vsher forth mine Honors,
    Or gilde againe the Noble Troopes that waighted
    Vpon my smiles. Go get thee from me Cromwel,
    I am a poore falne man, vnworthy now
    To be thy Lord, and Master. Seeke the King
    (That Sun, I pray may neuer set) I haue told him,
    What, and how true thou art; he will aduance thee:
    Some little memory of me, will stirre him
    (I know his Noble Nature) not to let
    Thy hopefull seruice perish too. Good Cromwell
    Neglect him not; make vse now, and prouide
    For thine owne future safety

    Crom. O my Lord,
    Must I then leaue you? Must I needes forgo
    So good, so Noble, and so true a Master?
    Beare witnesse, all that haue not hearts of Iron,
    With what a sorrow Cromwel leaues his Lord.
    The King shall haue my seruice; but my prayres
    For euer, and for euer shall be yours

    Card. Cromwel, I did not thinke to shed a teare
    In all my Miseries: But thou hast forc'd me
    (Out of thy honest truth) to play the Woman.
    Let's dry our eyes: And thus farre heare me Cromwel,
    And when I am forgotten, as I shall be,
    And sleepe in dull cold Marble, where no mention
    Of me, more must be heard of: Say I taught thee;
    Say Wolsey, that once trod the wayes of Glory,
    And sounded all the Depths, and Shoales of Honor,
    Found thee a way (out of his wracke) to rise in:
    A sure, and safe one, though thy Master mist it.
    Marke but my Fall, and that that Ruin'd me:
    Cromwel, I charge thee, fling away Ambition,
    By that sinne fell the Angels: how can man then
    (The Image of his Maker) hope to win by it?
    Loue thy selfe last, cherish those hearts that hate thee;
    Corruption wins not more then Honesty.
    Still in thy right hand, carry gentle Peace
    To silence enuious Tongues. Be iust, and feare not;
    Let all the ends thou aym'st at, be thy Countries,
    Thy Gods, and Truths. Then if thou fall'st (O Cromwell)
    Thou fall'st a blessed Martyr.
    Serue the King: And prythee leade me in:
    There take an Inuentory of all I haue,
    To the last peny, 'tis the Kings. My Robe,
    And my Integrity to Heauen, is all,
    I dare now call mine owne. O Cromwel, Cromwel,
    Had I but seru'd my God, with halfe the Zeale
    I seru'd my King: he would not in mine Age
    Haue left me naked to mine Enemies

    Crom. Good Sir, haue patience

    Card. So I haue. Farewell
    The Hopes of Court, my Hopes in Heauen do dwell.

    Exeunt.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: A few courtiers are gathered in the antechamber to the Kings apartment plotting Wolseys downfall. Norfolk informs them the King had chanced upon a letter Wolsey wrote to the Pops entreating him to stop the divorce. Thus Wolsey is now out of favor with the King. Moreover, the King has married Anne Bullen. Furthermore, Suffolk says that Campeius surreptitious departure for Rome to do Wolseys bidding had reached the King adding to his growing anger. Cranmer has returned to Britain and is helping the King with the divorce making the public announcement of Annes coronation immanent. Wolsey and Cromwell enter discussing some papers Wolsey had sent the King. Wolsey asks Cromwell to leave and frets about the Kings attachment to Anne Bullen. Wolsey is determined to see the King wed the Duchess of Alezon. The King enters with Lovell, he is very angry with Wolsey as he has come across some personal papers of Wolsey listing his monetary assets. The King is staggered at the huge amount of material wealth Wolsey has amassed for himself. Wolsey, unaware of this is confused by the Kings cold behavior. He swears loyalty to the King, who just hands Wolsey the condemning, papers and leaves. Wolsey discovers among these papers the letter he wrote to the Pope requesting a halt to the divorce proceedings. Norfolk approaches him with the kings orders: rendering the great seal back to the King and confident to Asher House pending the Kings further decisions. Wolsey refuses to comply without seeing the official orders and this leads to an exchange of heated words between the two parties. Lord Chamberlain brings about a halt to this, and Wolsey is further informed that he has to forfeit all his wealth and he has been removed from the Kings protection. The courtiers leave behind a sorrowful and repentant man. Cromwell is amazed and grieved when he finds out the truth about Wolseys state of affairs. Wolsey reassures him by saying that it has happened for the best since now he has gained true humility. Meanwhile, Sir Thomas More has been appointed Lord Chancellor and Cranmer the Archbishop of Canterbury. The fact that Anne is the Kings new wife is public and her coronation is being planned. Wolsey bids Cromwell a very emotional farewell, touched by his unshakable loyalty and advises him to seek the Kings service.


prompt:
Chapter: Enter two Gentlemen, meeting one another.

1 Y'are well met once againe

2 So are you

1 You come to take your stand heere, and behold
The Lady Anne, passe from her Corronation

2 'Tis all my businesse. At our last encounter,
  The Duke of Buckingham came from his Triall

  1 'Tis very true. But that time offer'd sorrow,
  This generall ioy

  2 'Tis well: The Citizens
  I am sure haue shewne at full their Royall minds,
  As let 'em haue their rights, they are euer forward
  In Celebration of this day with Shewes,
  Pageants, and Sights of Honor

  1 Neuer greater,
  Nor Ile assure you better taken Sir

  2 May I be bold to aske what that containes,
  That Paper in your hand

  1 Yes, 'tis the List
  Of those that claime their Offices this day,
  By custome of the Coronation.
  The Duke of Suffolke is the first, and claimes
  To be high Steward; Next the Duke of Norfolke,
  He to be Earle Marshall: you may reade the rest

  1 I thanke you Sir: Had I not known those customs,
  I should haue beene beholding to your Paper:
  But I beseech you, what's become of Katherine
  The Princesse Dowager? How goes her businesse?
  1 That I can tell you too. The Archbishop
  Of Canterbury, accompanied with other
  Learned, and Reuerend Fathers of his Order,
  Held a late Court at Dunstable; sixe miles off
  From Ampthill, where the Princesse lay, to which
  She was often cyted by them, but appear'd not:
  And to be short, for not Appearance, and
  The Kings late Scruple, by the maine assent
  Of all these Learned men, she was diuorc'd,
  And the late Marriage made of none effect:
  Since which, she was remou'd to Kymmalton,
  Where she remaines now sicke

  2 Alas good Lady.
  The Trumpets sound: Stand close,
  The Queene is comming.

  Ho-boyes. The Order of the Coronation. 1 A liuely Flourish of
  Trumpets. 2
  Then, two Iudges. 3 Lord Chancellor, with Purse and Mace before
  him. 4
  Quirristers singing. Musicke. 5 Maior of London, bearing the
  Mace. Then
  Garter, in his Coate of Armes, and on his head he wore a Gilt
  Copper
  Crowne. 6 Marquesse Dorset, bearing a Scepter of Gold, on his
  head, a
  Demy Coronall of Gold. With him, the Earle of Surrey, bearing the
  Rod of
  Siluer with the Doue, Crowned with an Earles Coronet. Collars of
  Esses. 7
  Duke of Suffolke, in his Robe of Estate, his Coronet on his head,
  bearing
  a long white Wand, as High Steward. With him, the Duke of
  Norfolke, with
  the Rod of Marshalship, a Coronet on his head. Collars of Esses. 8
  A
  Canopy, borne by foure of the Cinque-Ports, vnder it the Queene in
  her
  Robe, in her haire, richly adorned with Pearle, Crowned. On each
  side her,
  the Bishops of London, and Winchester. 9 The Olde Dutchesse of
  Norfolke,
  in a Coronall of Gold, wrought with Flowers bearing the Queenes
  Traine. 10
  Certaine Ladies or Countesses, with plaine Circlets of Gold,
  without
  Flowers. Exeunt, first passing ouer the Stage in Order and State,
  and
  then, A great Flourish of Trumpets.

  2 A Royall Traine beleeue me: These I know:
  Who's that that beares the Scepter?
  1 Marquesse Dorset,
  And that the Earle of Surrey, with the Rod

  2 A bold braue Gentleman. That should bee
  The Duke of Suffolke

  1 'Tis the same: high Steward

  2 And that my Lord of Norfolke?
  1 Yes

  2 Heauen blesse thee,
  Thou hast the sweetest face I euer look'd on.
  Sir, as I haue a Soule, she is an Angell;
  Our King ha's all the Indies in his Armes,
  And more, and richer, when he straines that Lady,
  I cannot blame his Conscience

  1 They that beare
  The Cloath of Honour ouer her, are foure Barons
  Of the Cinque-Ports

  2 Those men are happy,
  And so are all, are neere her.
  I take it, she that carries vp the Traine,
  Is that old Noble Lady, Dutchesse of Norfolke

  1 It is, and all the rest are Countesses

  2 Their Coronets say so. These are Starres indeed,
  And sometimes falling ones

  2 No more of that.
  Enter a third Gentleman.

  1 God saue you Sir. Where haue you bin broiling?
  3 Among the crowd i'th' Abbey, where a finger
  Could not be wedg'd in more: I am stifled
  With the meere ranknesse of their ioy

  2 You saw the Ceremony?
  3 That I did

  1 How was it?
  3 Well worth the seeing

  2 Good Sir, speake it to vs?
  3 As well as I am able. The rich streame
  Of Lords, and Ladies, hauing brought the Queene
  To a prepar'd place in the Quire, fell off
  A distance from her; while her Grace sate downe
  To rest a while, some halfe an houre, or so,
  In a rich Chaire of State, opposing freely
  The Beauty of her Person to the People.
  Beleeue me Sir, she is the goodliest Woman
  That euer lay by man: which when the people
  Had the full view of, such a noyse arose,
  As the shrowdes make at Sea, in a stiffe Tempest,
  As lowd, and to as many Tunes. Hats, Cloakes,
  (Doublets, I thinke) flew vp, and had their Faces
  Bin loose, this day they had beene lost. Such ioy
  I neuer saw before. Great belly'd women,
  That had not halfe a weeke to go, like Rammes
  In the old time of Warre, would shake the prease
  And make 'em reele before 'em. No man liuing
  Could say this is my wife there, all were wouen
  So strangely in one peece

  2 But what follow'd?
  3 At length, her Grace rose, and with modest paces
  Came to the Altar, where she kneel'd, and Saint-like
  Cast her faire eyes to Heauen, and pray'd deuoutly.
  Then rose againe, and bow'd her to the people:
  When by the Arch-byshop of Canterbury,
  She had all the Royall makings of a Queene;
As holy Oyle, Edward Confessors Crowne,
   The Rod, and Bird of Peace, and all such Emblemes
   Laid Nobly on her: which perform'd, the Quire
   With all the choysest Musicke of the Kingdome,
   Together sung Te Deum. So she parted,
   And with the same full State pac'd backe againe
   To Yorke-Place, where the Feast is held

   1 Sir,
   You must no more call it Yorke-place, that's past:
   For since the Cardinall fell, that Titles lost,
   'Tis now the Kings, and call'd White-Hall

   3 I know it:
   But 'tis so lately alter'd, that the old name
   Is fresh about me

   2 What two Reuerend Byshops
   Were those that went on each side of the Queene?
   3 Stokeley and Gardiner, the one of Winchester,
   Newly preferr'd from the Kings Secretary:
   The other London

   2 He of Winchester
   Is held no great good louer of the Archbishops,
   The vertuous Cranmer

   3 All the Land knowes that:
   How euer, yet there is no great breach, when it comes
   Cranmer will finde a Friend will not shrinke from him

   2 Who may that be, I pray you

   3 Thomas Cromwell,
   A man in much esteeme with th' King, and truly
   A worthy Friend. The King ha's made him
   Master o'th' Iewell House,
   And one already of the Priuy Councell

   2 He will deserue more

   3 Yes without all doubt.
   Come Gentlemen, ye shall go my way,
   Which is to'th Court, and there ye shall be my Guests:
   Something I can command. As I walke thither,
   Ile tell ye more

   Both. You may command vs Sir.

   Exeunt.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: The two gentlemen of the earlier public scene once again encounter each other, this time in a street in Westminister. The whole place is agog with the excitement of Annes coronation and the two men wait to catch a glimpse of the new Queen. The Archbishop of Canterbury has finalized the Kings divorce to Katherine, now the princess dowager. As the royal procession passes by the two men are all praise for the new queen. A third gentleman, who has just witnessed the coronation, joins the two men. He gives them a detailed account of the coronation ceremony. Thomas Cromwell, he tells them, has been taken under the Kings wing and has been made a member of the Privy Council. He invites the other two men to the court and they accept his offer.


prompt:
Chapter: Enter Katherine Dowager, sicke, lead betweene Griffith, her
Gentleman
Vsher, and Patience her Woman.

Grif. How do's your Grace?
Kath. O Griffith, sicke to death:
My Legges like loaden Branches bow to'th' Earth,
   Willing to leaue their burthen: Reach a Chaire,
   So now (me thinkes) I feele a little ease.
   Did'st thou not tell me Griffith, as thou lead'st mee,
   That the great Childe of Honor, Cardinall Wolsey
   Was dead?
   Grif. Yes Madam: but I thinke your Grace
   Out of the paine you suffer'd, gaue no eare too't

   Kath. Pre'thee good Griffith, tell me how he dy'de.
   If well, he stept before me happily
   For my example

   Grif. Well, the voyce goes Madam,
   For after the stout Earle Northumberland
   Arrested him at Yorke, and brought him forward
   As a man sorely tainted, to his Answer,
   He fell sicke sodainly, and grew so ill
   He could not sit his Mule

   Kath. Alas poore man

   Grif. At last, with easie Rodes, he came to Leicester,
   Lodg'd in the Abbey; where the reuerend Abbot
   With all his Couent, honourably receiu'd him;
   To whom he gaue these words. O Father Abbot,
   An old man, broken with the stormes of State,
   Is come to lay his weary bones among ye:
   Giue him a little earth for Charity.
   So went to bed; where eagerly his sicknesse
   Pursu'd him still, and three nights after this,
   About the houre of eight, which he himselfe
   Foretold should be his last, full of Repentance,
   Continuall Meditations, Teares, and Sorrowes,
   He gaue his Honors to the world agen,
   His blessed part to Heauen, and slept in peace

   Kath. So may he rest,
   His Faults lye gently on him:
   Yet thus farre Griffith, giue me leaue to speake him,
   And yet with Charity. He was a man
   Of an vnbounded stomacke, euer ranking
   Himselfe with Princes. One that by suggestion
   Ty'de all the Kingdome. Symonie, was faire play,
   His owne Opinion was his Law. I'th' presence
   He would say vntruths, and be euer double
   Both in his words, and meaning. He was neuer
   (But where he meant to Ruine) pittifull.
   His Promises, were as he then was, Mighty:
   But his performance, as he is now, Nothing:
   Of his owne body he was ill, and gaue
   The Clergy ill example

   Grif. Noble Madam:
   Mens euill manners, liue in Brasse, their Vertues
   We write in Water. May it please your Highnesse
   To heare me speake his good now?
   Kath. Yes good Griffith,
   I were malicious else

   Grif. This Cardinall,
   Though from an humble Stocke, vndoubtedly
   Was fashion'd to much Honor. From his Cradle
   He was a Scholler, and a ripe, and good one:
   Exceeding wise, faire spoken, and perswading:
   Lofty, and sowre to them that lou'd him not:
   But, to those men that sought him, sweet as Summer.
   And though he were vnsatisfied in getting,
   (Which was a sinne) yet in bestowing, Madam,
   He was most Princely: Euer witnesse for him
   Those twinnes of Learning, that he rais'd in you,
   Ipswich and Oxford: one of which, fell with him,
   Vnwilling to out-liue the good that did it.
   The other (though vnfinish'd) yet so Famous,
   So excellent in Art, and still so rising,
   That Christendome shall euer speake his Vertue.
   His Ouerthrow, heap'd Happinesse vpon him:
   For then, and not till then, he felt himselfe,
   And found the Blessednesse of being little.
   And to adde greater Honors to his Age
   Then man could giue him; he dy'de, fearing God

   Kath. After my death, I wish no other Herald,
   No other speaker of my liuing Actions,
   To keepe mine Honor, from Corruption,
   But such an honest Chronicler as Griffith.
   Whom I most hated Liuing, thou hast made mee
   With thy Religious Truth, and Modestie,
   (Now in his Ashes) Honor: Peace be with him.
   Patience, be neere me still, and set me lower,
   I haue not long to trouble thee. Good Griffith,
   Cause the Musitians play me that sad note
   I nam'd my Knell; whil'st I sit meditating
   On that Coelestiall Harmony I go too.

   Sad and solemne Musicke.

   Grif. She is asleep: Good wench, let's sit down quiet,
   For feare we wake her. Softly, gentle Patience.

   The Vision. Enter solemnely tripping one after another, sixe
   Personages,
   clad in white Robes, wearing on their heades Garlands of Bayes,
   and golden
   Vizards on their faces, Branches of Bayes or Palme in their hands.
   They
   first Conge vnto her, then Dance: and at certaine Changes, the first
   two
   hold a spare Garland ouer her Head, at which the other foure make
   reuerend
   Curtsies. Then the two that held the Garland, deliuer the same to
   the other
   next two, who obserue the same order in their Changes, and
   holding the
   Garland ouer her head. Which done, they deliuer the same Garland
   to the
   last two: who likewise obserue the same Order. At which (as it
           were by
           inspiration) she makes (in her sleepe) signes of reioycing, and
   holdeth vp
   her hands to heauen. And so, in their Dancing vanish, carrying the
   Garland
   with them. The Musicke continues.

   Kath. Spirits of peace, where are ye? Are ye all gone?
   And leaue me heere in wretchednesse, behinde ye?
   Grif. Madam, we are heere

   Kath. It is not you I call for,
   Saw ye none enter since I slept?
   Grif. None Madam

   Kath. No? Saw you not euen now a blessed Troope
   Inuite me to a Banquet, whose bright faces
   Cast thousand beames vpon me, like the Sun?
   They promis'd me eternall Happinesse,
   And brought me Garlands (Griffith) which I feele
   I am not worthy yet to weare: I shall assuredly

   Grif. I am most ioyfull Madam, such good dreames
   Possesse your Fancy

   Kath. Bid the Musicke leaue,
   They are harsh and heauy to me.

   Musicke ceases.

   Pati. Do you note
   How much her Grace is alter'd on the sodaine?
   How long her face is drawne? How pale she lookes,
   And of an earthy cold? Marke her eyes?
   Grif. She is going Wench. Pray, pray

   Pati. Heauen comfort her.
   Enter a Messenger.

   Mes. And't like your Grace -
   Kath. You are a sawcy Fellow,
   Deserue we no more Reuerence?
   Grif. You are too blame,
   Knowing she will not loose her wonted Greatnesse
   To vse so rude behauiour. Go too, kneele

   Mes. I humbly do entreat your Highnesse pardon,
   My hast made me vnmannerly. There is staying
   A Gentleman sent from the King, to see you

   Kath. Admit him entrance Griffith. But this Fellow
   Let me ne're see againe.

   Exit Messeng.

   Enter Lord Capuchius.

   If my sight faile not,
   You should be Lord Ambassador from the Emperor,
   My Royall Nephew, and your name Capuchius

   Cap. Madam the same. Your Seruant

   Kath. O my Lord,
   The Times and Titles now are alter'd strangely
   With me, since first you knew me.
   But I pray you,
   What is your pleasure with me?
   Cap. Noble Lady,
   First mine owne seruice to your Grace, the next
   The Kings request, that I would visit you,
   Who greeues much for your weaknesse, and by me
   Sends you his Princely Commendations,
   And heartily entreats you take good comfort

   Kath. O my good Lord, that comfort comes too late,
   'Tis like a Pardon after Execution;
That gentle Physicke giuen in time, had cur'd me:
But now I am past all Comforts heere, but Prayers.
How does his Highnesse?
Cap. Madam, in good health

Kath. So may he euer do, and euer flourish,
    When I shall dwell with Wormes, and my poore name
    Banish'd the Kingdome. Patience, is that Letter
    I caus'd you write, yet sent away?
    Pat. No Madam

    Kath. Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliuer
    This to my Lord the King

    Cap. Most willing Madam

    Kath. In which I haue commended to his goodnesse
    The Modell of our chaste loues: his yong daughter,
    The dewes of Heauen fall thicke in Blessings on her,
    Beseeching him to giue her vertuous breeding.
    She is yong, and of a Noble modest Nature,
    I hope she will deserue well; and a little
    To loue her for her Mothers sake, that lou'd him,
    Heauen knowes how deerely.
    My next poore Petition,
    Is, that his Noble Grace would haue some pittie
    Vpon my wretched women, that so long
    Haue follow'd both my Fortunes, faithfully,
    Of which there is not one, I dare auow
    (And now I should not lye) but will deserue
    For Vertue, and true Beautie of the Soule,
    For honestie, and decent Carriage
A right good Husband (let him be a Noble)
    And sure those men are happy that shall haue 'em.
    The last is for my men, they are the poorest,
    (But pouerty could neuer draw 'em from me)
    That they may haue their wages, duly paid 'em,
    And something ouer to remember me by.
    If Heauen had pleas'd to haue giuen me longer life
    And able meanes, we had not parted thus.
    These are the whole Contents, and good my Lord,
    By that you loue the deerest in this world,
    As you wish Christian peace to soules departed,
    Stand these poore peoples Friend, and vrge the King
    To do me this last right

    Cap. By Heauen I will,
    Or let me loose the fashion of a man

    Kath. I thanke you honest Lord. Remember me
    In all humilitie vnto his Highnesse:
    Say his long trouble now is passing
    Out of this world. Tell him in death I blest him
    (For so I will) mine eyes grow dimme. Farewell
    My Lord. Griffith farewell. Nay Patience,
    You must not leaue me yet. I must to bed,
    Call in more women. When I am dead, good Wench,
    Let me be vs'd with Honor; strew me ouer
    With Maiden Flowers, that all the world may know
    I was a chaste Wife, to my Graue: Embalme me,
    Then lay me forth (although vnqueen'd) yet like
    A Queene, and Daughter to a King enterre me.
    I can no more.

    Exeunt. leading Katherine.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Katherine, the princess dowager, is now in residence at Kimbolton and she is ailing. At her inquiry, Griffith, her gentleman usher, relates to her the manner in which Wolsey died. On hearing Katherines bitter words about Wolsey, Griffith tries to make her the dead mans human qualities and virtues. The musicians play for her, and tired she falls asleep. In her sleep she sees a vision, in which the spirits of peace promise her eternal happiness. When she wake up she looks so worn and tired that her servants fear she is dying. Capacious, a representative of the Spanish Emperor, visits Katherine on behalf of his master, Katherines nephew. He conveys to her the emperors sympathy for her condition. Before Capacious leaves, Katherine hands him a letter to be delivered to Henry, the King. The letter requests him to provide for their daughter, her serving men and women. The scene closes with her giving her woman patience, the final instructions about her funeral.


prompt:
Chapter: Enter Gardiner Bishop of Winchester, a Page with a Torch before
him, met
by Sir Thomas Louell.

Gard. It's one a clocke Boy, is't not

Boy. It hath strooke

Gard. These should be houres for necessities,
    Not for delights: Times to repayre our Nature
    With comforting repose, and not for vs
    To waste these times. Good houre of night Sir Thomas:
    Whether so late?
    Lou. Came you from the King, my Lord?
    Gar. I did Sir Thomas, and left him at Primero
    With the Duke of Suffolke

    Lou. I must to him too
    Before he go to bed. Ile take my leaue

    Gard. Not yet Sir Thomas Louell: what's the matter?
    It seemes you are in hast: and if there be
    No great offence belongs too't, giue your Friend
    Some touch of your late businesse: Affaires that walke
    (As they say Spirits do) at midnight, haue
    In them a wilder Nature, then the businesse
    That seekes dispatch by day

    Lou. My Lord, I loue you;
    And durst commend a secret to your eare
    Much waightier then this worke. The Queens in Labor
    They say in great Extremity, and fear'd
    Shee'l with the Labour, end

    Gard. The fruite she goes with
    I pray for heartily, that it may finde
    Good time, and liue: but for the Stocke Sir Thomas,
    I wish it grubb'd vp now

    Lou. Me thinkes I could
    Cry the Amen, and yet my Conscience sayes
    Shee's a good Creature, and sweet-Ladie do's
    Deserue our better wishes

    Gard. But Sir, Sir,
    Heare me Sir Thomas, y'are a Gentleman
    Of mine owne way. I know you Wise, Religious,
    And let me tell you, it will ne're be well,
    'Twill not Sir Thomas Louell, tak't of me,
    Till Cranmer, Cromwel, her two hands, and shee
    Sleepe in their Graues

    Louell. Now Sir, you speake of two
    The most remark'd i'th' Kingdome: as for Cromwell,
    Beside that of the Iewell-House, is made Master
    O'th' Rolles, and the Kings Secretary. Further Sir,
    Stands in the gap and Trade of moe Preferments,
    With which the Lime will loade him. Th' Archbyshop
    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,
    As you commanded me

    King. Ha? Canterbury?
    Den. I my good Lord

    King. 'Tis true: where is he Denny?
    Den. He attends your Highnesse pleasure

    King. Bring him to Vs

    Lou. This is about that, which the Byshop spake,
    I am happily come hither.
    Enter Cranmer and Denny.

    King. Auoyd the Gallery.

    Louel seemes to stay.

    Ha? I haue said. Be gone.
    What?

    Exeunt. Louell and Denny.

    Cran. I am fearefull: Wherefore frownes he thus?
    'Tis his Aspect of Terror. All's not well

    King. How now my Lord?
    You do desire to know wherefore
    I sent for you

    Cran. It is my dutie
    T' attend your Highnesse pleasure

    King. Pray you arise
    My good and gracious Lord of Canterburie:
    Come, you and I must walke a turne together:
    I haue Newes to tell you.
    Come, come, giue me your hand.
    Ah my good Lord, I greeue at what I speake,
    And am right sorrie to repeat what followes.
    I haue, and most vnwillingly of late
    Heard many greeuous, I do say my Lord
    Greeuous complaints of you; which being consider'd,
    Haue mou'd Vs, and our Councell, that you shall
    This Morning come before vs, where I know
    You cannot with such freedome purge your selfe,
    But that till further Triall, in those Charges
    Which will require your Answer, you must take
    Your patience to you, and be well contented
    To make your house our Towre: you, a Brother of vs
    It fits we thus proceed, or else no witnesse
    Would come against you

    Cran. I humbly thanke your Highnesse,
    And am right glad to catch this good occasion
    Most throughly to be winnowed, where my Chaffe
    And Corne shall flye asunder. For I know
    There's none stands vnder more calumnious tongues,
    Then I my selfe, poore man

    King. Stand vp, good Canterbury,
    Thy Truth, and thy Integrity is rooted
    In vs thy Friend. Giue me thy hand, stand vp,
    Prythee let's walke. Now by my Holydame,
    What manner of man are you? My Lord, I look'd
    You would haue giuen me your Petition, that
    I should haue tane some paines, to bring together
    Your selfe, and your Accusers, and to haue heard you
    Without indurance further

    Cran. Most dread Liege,
    The good I stand on, is my Truth and Honestie:
    If they shall faile, I with mine Enemies
    Will triumph o're my person, which I waigh not,
    Being of those Vertues vacant. I feare nothing
    What can be said against me

    King. Know you not
    How your state stands i'th' world, with the whole world?
    Your Enemies are many, and not small; their practises
    Must beare the same proportion, and not euer
    The Iustice and the Truth o'th' question carries
    The dew o'th' Verdict with it; at what ease
    Might corrupt mindes procure, Knaues as corrupt
    To sweare against you: Such things haue bene done.
    You are Potently oppos'd, and with a Malice
    Of as great Size. Weene you of better lucke,
    I meane in periur'd Witnesse, then your Master,
    Whose Minister you are, whiles heere he liu'd
    Vpon this naughty Earth? Go too, go too,
    You take a Precepit for no leape of danger,
    And woe your owne destruction

    Cran. God, and your Maiesty
    Protect mine innocence, or I fall into
    The trap is laid for me

    King. Be of good cheere,
    They shall no more preuaile, then we giue way too:
    Keepe comfort to you, and this Morning see
    You do appeare before them. If they shall chance
    In charging you with matters, to commit you:
    The best perswasions to the contrary
    Faile not to vse, and with what vehemencie
    Th' occasion shall instruct you. If intreaties
    Will render you no remedy, this Ring
    Deliuer them, and your Appeale to vs
    There make before them. Looke, the goodman weeps:
    He's honest on mine Honor. Gods blest Mother,
    I sweare he is true-hearted, and a soule
    None better in my Kingdome. Get you gone,
    And do as I haue bid you.

    Exit Cranmer.

    He ha's strangled his Language in his teares.
    Enter Olde Lady.

    Gent. within. Come backe: what meane you?
    Lady. Ile not come backe, the tydings that I bring
    Will make my boldnesse, manners. Now good Angels
    Fly o're thy Royall head, and shade thy person
    Vnder their blessed wings

    King. Now by thy lookes
    I gesse thy Message. Is the Queene deliuer'd?
    Say I, and of a boy

    Lady. I, I my Liege,
    And of a louely Boy: the God of heauen
    Both now, and euer blesse her: 'Tis a Gyrle
    Promises Boyes heereafter. Sir, your Queen
    Desires your Visitation, and to be
    Acquainted with this stranger; 'tis as like you,
    As Cherry, is to Cherry

    King. Louell

    Lou. Sir

    King. Giue her an hundred Markes.
    Ile to the Queene.

    Exit King.

    Lady. An hundred Markes? By this light, Ile ha more.
    An ordinary Groome is for such payment.
    I will haue more, or scold it out of him.
    Said I for this, the Gyrle was like to him? Ile
    Haue more, or else vnsay't: and now, while 'tis hot,
    Ile put it to the issue.

    Exit Ladie.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: This scene occurs in the palace, in the early hour of the morning. As Lovell is on his way to the King, he encounters Gardiner and informs him that the Queen is in labor and it is feared that she may lose her life. Gardiner expresses his deep resentment against the Queen, Cromwell and Cranmer. When Lovell cautions her against doing he reveals that many council members seek Cranmers destruction. The King is deeply disturbed when he is informed that the queen is in immense pain. Sir Anthony Denny informs him that archbishop has come to see him as per orders, and the King asks to be left alone with Cranmer. He reveals to the latter that many complaints had been received against him and hence he will be confined to the tower while the council tries his case. Cranmer realizes the enormity of the situation and asks for the Kings help. The King gives Cranmer his personal ring. Presenting this will allow Cranmer to appeal directly to the King. Cranmer is tearful in expressing his gratitude as he takes leave of the King. An old lady brings news of the birth of a girl and the queens welfare to the King. He departs to see them. Before leaving he commands Lovell to give the old lady some money as reward for bringing him this good news.


prompt:
Chapter: Enter Cranmer, Archbyshop of Canterbury.

Cran. I hope I am not too late, and yet the Gentleman
That was sent to me from the Councell, pray'd me
To make great hast. All fast? What meanes this? Hoa?
Who waites there? Sure you know me?
Enter Keeper.

Keep. Yes, my Lord:
But yet I cannot helpe you

Cran. Why?
Keep. Your Grace must waight till you be call'd for.
Enter Doctor Buts.

Cran. So

Buts. This is a Peere of Malice: I am glad
I came this way so happily. The King
Shall vnderstand it presently.

Exit Buts

Cran. 'Tis Buts.
The Kings Physitian, as he past along
How earnestly he cast his eyes vpon me:
Pray heauen he found not my disgrace: for certaine
This is of purpose laid by some that hate me,
     (God turne their hearts, I neuer sought their malice)
    To quench mine Honor; they would shame to make me
    Wait else at doore: a fellow Councellor
    'Mong Boyes, Groomes, and Lackeyes.
    But their pleasures
    Must be fulfill'd, and I attend with patience.
    Enter the King, and Buts, at a Windowe aboue.

    Buts. Ile shew your Grace the strangest sight

    King. What's that Buts?
    Butts. I thinke your Highnesse saw this many a day

    Kin. Body a me: where is it?
    Butts. There my Lord:
    The high promotion of his Grace of Canterbury,
    Who holds his State at dore 'mongst Purseuants,
    Pages, and Foot-boyes

    Kin. Ha? 'Tis he indeed.
    Is this the Honour they doe one another?
    'Tis well there's one aboue '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 neere our fauour
    To dance attendance on their Lordships pleasures,
    And at the dore too, like a Post with Packets:
    By holy Mary (Butts) there's knauery;
    Let 'em alone, and draw the Curtaine close:
    We shall heare more anon.

    A Councell Table brought in with Chayres and Stooles, and placed
    vnder
    the State. Enter Lord Chancellour, places himselfe at the vpper end
    of the
    Table, on the left hand: A Seate being left void aboue him, as for
    Canterburies Seate. Duke of Suffolke, Duke of Norfolke, Surrey,
    Lord
    Chamberlaine, Gardiner, seat themselues in Order on each side.
    Cromwell at
    lower end, as Secretary.

    Chan. Speake to the businesse, M[aster]. Secretary;
    Why are we met in Councell?
    Crom. Please your Honours,
    The chiefe cause concernes his Grace of Canterbury

    Gard. Ha's he had knowledge of it?
    Crom. Yes

    Norf. Who waits there?
    Keep. Without my Noble Lords?
    Gard. Yes

    Keep. My Lord Archbishop:
    And ha's done halfe an houre to know your pleasures

    Chan. Let him come in

    Keep. Your Grace may enter now.

    Cranmer approches the Councell Table.

    Chan. My good Lord Archbishop, I'm very sorry
    To sit heere at this present, and behold
    That Chayre stand empty: But we all are men
    In our owne natures fraile, and capable
    Of our flesh, few are Angels; out of which frailty
    And want of wisedome, you that best should teach vs,
    Haue misdemean'd your selfe, and not a little:
    Toward the King first, then his Lawes, in filling
    The whole Realme, by your teaching & your Chaplaines
    (For so we are inform'd) with new opinions,
    Diuers and dangerous; which are Heresies;
And not reform'd, may proue pernicious

Gard. Which Reformation must be sodaine too
My Noble Lords; for those that tame wild Horses,
   Pace 'em not in their hands to make 'em gentle;
But stop their mouthes with stubborn Bits & spurre 'em,
    Till they obey the mannage. If we suffer
    Out of our easinesse and childish pitty
    To one mans Honour, this contagious sicknesse;
    Farewell all Physicke: and what followes then?
    Commotions, vprores, with a generall Taint
    Of the whole State; as of late dayes our neighbours,
    The vpper Germany can deerely witnesse:
    Yet freshly pittied in our memories

    Cran. My good Lords; Hitherto, in all the Progresse
    Both of my Life and Office, I haue labour'd,
    And with no little study, that my teaching
    And the strong course of my Authority,
    Might goe one way, and safely; and the end
    Was euer to doe well: nor is there liuing,
    (I speake it with a single heart, my Lords)
    A man that more detests, more stirres against,
    Both in his priuate Conscience, and his place,
    Defacers of a publique peace then I doe:
    Pray Heauen the King may neuer find a heart
    With lesse Allegeance in it. Men that make
    Enuy, and crooked malice, nourishment;
    Dare bite the best. I doe beseech your, Lordships,
    That in this case of Iustice, my Accusers,
    Be what they will, may stand forth face to face,
    And freely vrge against me

    Suff. Nay, my Lord,
    That cannot be; you are a Counsellor,
    And by that vertue no man dare accuse you

    Gard. My Lord, because we haue busines of more moment,
    We will be short with you. 'Tis his Highnesse pleasure
    And our consent, for better tryall of you,
    From hence you be committed to the Tower,
    Where being but a priuate man againe,
    You shall know many dare accuse you boldly,
    More then (I feare) you are prouided for

    Cran. Ah my good Lord of Winchester: I thanke you,
    You are alwayes my good Friend, if your will passe,
    I shall both finde your Lordship, Iudge and Iuror,
    You are so mercifull. I see your end,
    'Tis my vndoing. Loue and meekenesse, Lord
    Become a Churchman, better then Ambition:
    Win straying Soules with modesty againe,
    Cast none away: That I shall cleere my selfe,
    Lay all the weight ye can vpon my patience,
    I make as little doubt as you doe conscience,
    In doing dayly wrongs. I could say more,
    But reuerence to your calling, makes me modest

    Gard. My Lord, my Lord, you are a Sectary,
    That's the plaine truth; your painted glosse discouers
    To men that vnderstand you, words and weaknesse

    Crom. My Lord of Winchester, y'are a little,
    By your good fauour, too sharpe; Men so Noble,
    How euer faulty, yet should finde respect
    For what they haue beene: 'tis a cruelty,
    To load a falling man

    Gard. Good M[aster]. Secretary,
    I cry your Honour mercie; you may worst
    Of all this Table say so

    Crom. Why my Lord?
    Gard. Doe not I know you for a Fauourer
    Of this new Sect? ye are not sound

    Crom. Not sound?
    Gard. Not sound I say

    Crom. Would you were halfe so honest:
    Mens prayers then would seeke you, not their feares

    Gard. I shall remember this bold Language

    Crom. Doe.
    Remember your bold life too

    Cham. This is too much;
    Forbeare for shame my Lords

    Gard. I haue done

    Crom. And I

    Cham. Then thus for you my Lord, it stands agreed
    I take it, by all voyces: That forthwith,
    You be conuaid to th' Tower a Prisoner;
There to remaine till the Kings further pleasure
Be knowne vnto vs: are you all agreed Lords

All. We are

Cran. Is there no other way of mercy,
    But I must needs to th' Tower my Lords?
    Gard. What other,
    Would you expect? You are strangely troublesome:
    Let some o'th' Guard be ready there.
    Enter the Guard.

    Cran. For me?
    Must I goe like a Traytor thither?
    Gard. Receiue him,
    And see him safe i'th' Tower

    Cran. Stay good my Lords,
    I haue a little yet to say. Looke there my Lords,
    By vertue of that Ring, I take my cause
    Out of the gripes of cruell men, and giue it
    To a most Noble Iudge, the King my Maister

    Cham. This is the Kings Ring

    Sur. 'Tis no counterfeit

    Suff. 'Ts the right Ring, by Heau'n: I told ye all,
    When we first put this dangerous stone a rowling,
    'Twold fall vpon our selues

    Norf. Doe you thinke my Lords
    The King will suffer but the little finger
    Of this man to be vex'd?
    Cham. Tis now too certaine;
    How much more is his Life in value with him?
    Would I were fairely out on't

    Crom. My mind gaue me,
    In seeking tales and Informations
    Against this man, whose honesty the Diuell
    And his Disciples onely enuy at,
    Ye blew the fire that burnes ye: now haue at ye.
    Enter King frowning on them, takes his Seate.

    Gard. Dread Soueraigne,
    How much are we bound to Heauen,
    In dayly thankes, that gaue vs such a Prince;
Not onely good and wise, but most religious:
One that in all obedience, makes the Church
The cheefe ayme of his Honour, and to strengthen
That holy duty out of deare respect,
     His Royall selfe in Iudgement comes to heare
     The cause betwixt her, and this great offender

     Kin. You were euer good at sodaine Commendations,
     Bishop of Winchester. But know I come not
     To heare such flattery now, and in my presence
     They are too thin, and base to hide offences,
     To me you cannot reach. You play the Spaniell,
     And thinke with wagging of your tongue to win me:
     But whatsoere thou tak'st me for; I'm sure
     Thou hast a cruell Nature and a bloody.
     Good man sit downe: Now let me see the proudest
     Hee, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee.
     By all that's holy, he had better starue,
     Then but once thinke his place becomes thee not

     Sur. May it please your Grace; -
     Kin. No Sir, it doe's not please me,
     I had thought, I had had men of some vnderstanding,
     And wisedome of my Councell; but I finde none:
     Was it discretion Lords, to let this man,
     This good man (few of you deserue that Title)
    This honest man, wait like a lowsie Foot-boy
    At Chamber dore? and one, as great as you are?
    Why, what a shame was this? Did my Commission
    Bid ye so farre forget your selues? I gaue ye
    Power, as he was a Counsellour to try him,
    Not as a Groome: There's some of ye, I see,
    More out of Malice then Integrity,
    Would trye him to the vtmost, had ye meane,
    Which ye shall neuer haue while I liue

    Chan. Thus farre
    My most dread Soueraigne, 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 Tryall,
    And faire purgation to the world then malice,
    I'm sure in me

    Kin. Well, well my Lords respect him,
    Take him, and vse him well; hee's worthy of it.
    I will say thus much for him, if a Prince
    May be beholding to a Subiect; I
    Am for his loue and seruice, so to him.
    Make me no more adoe, but all embrace him;
    Be friends for shame my Lords: My Lord of Canterbury
    I haue a Suite which you must not deny mee.
    That is, a faire young Maid that yet wants Baptisme,
    You must be Godfather, and answere for her

    Cran. The greatest Monarch now aliue may glory
    In such an honour: how may I deserue it,
    That am a poore and humble Subiect to you?
    Kin. Come, come my Lord, you'd spare your spoones;
    You shall haue two noble Partners with you: the old
    Duchesse of Norfolke, and Lady Marquesse Dorset? will
    these please you?
    Once more my Lord of Winchester, I charge you
    Embrace, and loue this man

    Gard. With a true heart,
    And Brother; loue I doe it

    Cran. And let Heauen
    Witnesse how deare, I hold this Confirmation

    Kin. Good Man, those ioyfull teares shew thy true hearts,
    The common voyce I see is verified
    Of thee, which sayes thus: Doe my Lord of Canterbury
    A shrewd turne, and hee's your friend for euer:
    Come Lords, we trifle time away: I long
    To haue this young one made a Christian.
    As I haue made ye one Lords, one remaine:
    So I grow stronger, you more Honour gaine.

    Exeunt.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Cranmer comes to the council chamber. There the keeper that he must wait outside till he called for informs him. Dr. Butts observes this and departs to inform the King of the shabby treatment Cranmer is being subjected to. Cranmer resents being treated this way but resigns himself to wait patiently. Dr. Butts brings the King to a window that overlooks the Council Chamber and paints out Cranmer waiting outside the entrance. When he explains the situation to the King. The latter is angered and decides to go to the Council Chamber and set the matter right himself.


prompt:
Chapter: Noyse and Tumult within: Enter Porter and his man.

Port. You'l leaue your noyse anon ye Rascals: doe
you take the Court for Parish Garden: ye rude Slaues,
    leaue your gaping

    Within. Good M[aster]. Porter I belong to th' Larder

    Port. Belong to th' Gallowes, and be hang'd ye Rogue:
    Is this a place to roare in? Fetch me a dozen Crab-tree
    staues, and strong ones; these are but switches to 'em:
    Ile scratch your heads; you must be seeing Christenings?
    Do you looke for Ale, and Cakes heere, you rude
    Raskalls?
    Man. Pray Sir be patient; 'tis as much impossible,
    Vnlesse wee sweepe 'em from the dore with Cannons,
    To scatter 'em, as 'tis to make 'em sleepe
    On May-day Morning, which will neuer be:
    We may as well push against Powles as stirre 'em

    Por. How got they in, and be hang'd?
    Man. Alas I know not, how gets the Tide in?
    As much as one sound Cudgell of foure foote,
    (You see the poore remainder) could distribute,
    I made no spare Sir

    Port. You did nothing Sir

    Man. I am not Sampson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colebrand,
    To mow 'em downe before me: but if I spar'd any
    That had a head to hit, either young or old,
    He or shee, Cuckold or Cuckold-maker:
    Let me ne're hope to see a Chine againe,
    And that I would not for a Cow, God saue her

    Within. Do you heare M[aster]. Porter?
    Port. I shall be with you presently, good M[aster]. Puppy,
    Keepe the dore close Sirha

    Man. What would you haue me doe?
    Por. What should you doe,
    But knock 'em downe by th' dozens? Is this More fields
    to muster in? Or haue wee some strange Indian with the
    great Toole, come to Court, the women so besiege vs?
    Bless me, what a fry of Fornication is at dore? On my
    Christian Conscience this one Christening will beget a
    thousand, here will bee Father, God-father, and all together

    Man. The Spoones will be the bigger Sir: There is
    a fellow somewhat neere the doore, he should be a Brasier
    by his face, for o' my conscience twenty of the Dogdayes
    now reigne in's Nose; all that stand about him are
    vnder the Line, they need no other pennance: that FireDrake
    did I hit three times on the head, and three times
    was his Nose discharged against mee; hee stands there
    like a Morter-piece to blow vs. There was a Habberdashers
    Wife of small wit, neere him, that rail'd vpon me,
    till her pinck'd porrenger fell off her head, for kindling
    such a combustion in the State. I mist the Meteor once,
    and hit that Woman, who cryed out Clubbes, when I
    might see from farre, some forty Truncheoners draw to
    her succour, which were the hope o'th' Strond where she
    was quartered; they fell on, I made good my place; at
    length they came to th' broome staffe to me, I defide 'em
    stil, when sodainly a File of Boyes behind 'em, loose shot,
    deliuer'd such a showre of Pibbles, that I was faine to
    draw mine Honour in, and let 'em win the Worke, the
    Diuell was amongst 'em I thinke surely

    Por. 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 Limbes of Limehouse,
    their deare Brothers are able to endure. I haue some of
    'em in Limbo Patrum, and there they are like to dance
    these three dayes; besides the running Banquet of two
    Beadles, that is to come.
    Enter Lord Chamberlaine.

    Cham. Mercy o' me: what a Multitude are heere?
    They grow still too; from all Parts they are comming,
    As if we kept a Faire heere? Where are these Porters?
    These lazy knaues? Y'haue made a fine hand fellowes?
    Theres a trim rabble let in: are all these
    Your faithfull friends o'th' Suburbs? We shall haue
    Great store of roome no doubt, left for the Ladies,
    When they passe backe from the Christening?
    Por. And't please your Honour,
    We are but men; and what so many may doe,
    Not being torne a pieces, we haue done:
    An Army cannot rule 'em

    Cham. As I liue,
    If the King blame me for't; Ile lay ye all
    By th' heeles, and sodainly: and on your heads
    Clap round Fines for neglect: y'are lazy knaues,
    And heere ye lye baiting of Bombards, when
    Ye should doe Seruice. Harke the Trumpets sound,
    Th'are come already from the Christening,
    Go breake among the preasse, and finde away out
    To let the Troope passe fairely; or Ile finde
    A Marshallsey, shall hold ye play these two Monthes

    Por. Make way there, for the Princesse

    Man. You great fellow,
    Stand close vp, or Ile make your head ake

    Por. You i'th' Chamblet, get vp o'th' raile,
    Ile pecke you o're the pales else.

    Exeunt.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: The council is in session with the Lord Chancellor presiding over it. Cranmer is summoned inside and informed that he has been changed with spreading heresies in the kingdom. Since these may prove dangerous Gardiner proposes swift and strong action to deal with the situation. Cranmer denies the accusations and requests to be brought face to face with his accusers. His request is denied, followed by a heated argument between Gardiner and Cromwell with the former accusing the latter of being in favor of the new sect espoused by Cranmer. The chancellor brings the meeting to order and it is decided that Cranmer be confined to the Tower. Cranmer pleads with them to reconsider but it is to no avail. Finally he brings out the Kings ring and asks to be judged by the King himself. The counselors recognize the ring as indeed being the kings and regret bringing Cranmer to trial, for now they fear the Kings displeasure. The King enters and Gardiner tries to placate the angry monarch but without success. He expresses his displeasure at their harsh treatment of one of their fellow counselors. He then praises Cranmer and commend them all to befriend him. When this is done, the King request Cranmer to baptize his daughter and to be one of her god parents.


prompt:
Chapter: Enter Trumpets sounding: Then two Aldermen, L[ord]. Maior,
      Garter,
      Cranmer, Duke of Norfolke with his Marshals Staffe, Duke of
      Suffolke, two
      Noblemen, bearing great standing Bowles for the Christening
      Guifts: Then
      foure Noblemen bearing a Canopy, vnder which the Dutchesse of
      Norfolke,
      Godmother, bearing the Childe richly habited in a Mantle, &c.
      Traine borne
      by a Lady: Then followes the Marchionesse Dorset, the other
      Godmother, and
      Ladies. The Troope passe once about the Stage, and Garter
      speakes.

      Gart. Heauen
      From thy endlesse goodnesse, send prosperous life,
      Long, and euer happie, to the high and Mighty
      Princesse of England Elizabeth.

      Flourish. Enter King and Guard.

      Cran. And to your Royall Grace, & the good Queen,
      My Noble Partners, and my selfe thus pray
      All comfort, ioy in this most gracious Lady,
      Heauen euer laid vp to make Parents happy,
      May hourely fall vpon ye

      Kin. Thanke you good Lord Archbishop:
      What is her Name?
      Cran. Elizabeth

      Kin. Stand vp Lord,
      With this Kisse, take my Blessing: God protect thee,
      Into whose hand, I giue thy Life

      Cran. Amen

      Kin. My Noble Gossips, y'haue beene too Prodigall;
      I thanke ye heartily: So shall this Lady,
      When she ha's so much English

      Cran. Let me speake Sir,
      For Heauen now bids me; and the words I vtter,
      Let none thinke Flattery; for they'l finde 'em Truth.
      This Royall Infant, Heauen still moue about her;
      Though in her Cradle; yet now promises
      Vpon this Land a thousand thousand Blessings,
      Which Time shall bring to ripenesse: She shall be,
      (But few now liuing can behold that goodnesse)
    A Patterne to all Princes liuing with her,
    And all that shall succeed: Saba was neuer
    More couetous of Wisedome, and faire Vertue
    Then this pure Soule shall be. All Princely Graces
    That mould vp such a mighty Piece as this is,
    With all the Vertues that attend the good,
    Shall still be doubled on her. Truth shall Nurse her,
    Holy and Heauenly thoughts still Counsell her:
    She shall be lou'd and fear'd. Her owne shall blesse her;
    Her Foes shake like a Field of beaten Corne,
    And hang their heads with sorrow:
    Good growes with her.
    In her dayes, Euery Man shall eate in safety,
    Vnder his owne Vine what he plants; and sing
    The merry Songs of Peace to all his Neighbours.
    God shall be truely knowne, and those about her,
    From her shall read the perfect way of Honour,
    And by those claime their greatnesse; not by Blood.
    Nor shall this peace sleepe with her: But as when
    The Bird of Wonder dyes, the Mayden Phoenix,
    Her Ashes new create another Heyre,
    As great in admiration as her selfe.
    So shall she leaue her Blessednesse to One,
    (When Heauen shal call her from this clowd of darknes)
    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, Loue, Truth, Terror,
    That were the Seruants to this chosen Infant,
    Shall then be his, and like a Vine grow to him;
Where euer the bright Sunne of Heauen shall shine,
      His Honour, and the greatnesse of his Name,
      Shall be, and make new Nations. He shall flourish,
      And like a Mountaine Cedar, reach his branches,
      To all the Plaines about him: Our Childrens Children
      Shall see this, and blesse Heauen

      Kin. Thou speakest wonders

      Cran. She shall be to the happinesse of England,
      An aged Princesse; many dayes shall see her,
      And yet no day without a deed to Crowne it.
      Would I had knowne no more: But she must dye,
      She must, the Saints must haue her; yet a Virgin,
      A most vnspotted Lilly shall she passe
      To th' ground, and all the World shall mourne her

      Kin. O Lord Archbishop
      Thou hast made me now a man, neuer before
      This happy Child, did I get any thing.
      This Oracle of comfort, ha's so pleas'd me,
      That when I am in Heauen, I shall desire

      To see what this Child does, and praise my Maker.
      I thanke ye all. To you my good Lord Maior,
      And you good Brethren, I am much beholding:
      I haue receiu'd much Honour by your presence,
      And ye shall find me thankfull. Lead the way Lords,
      Ye must all see the Queene, and she must thanke ye,
      She will be sicke els. This day, no man thinke
      'Has businesse at his house; for all shall stay:
      This Little-One shall make it Holy-day.

      Exeunt.

      THE EPILOGVE. Tis ten to one, this Play can neuer please
      All that are heere: Some come to take their ease,
      And sleepe an Act or two; but those we feare
      W'haue frighted with our Trumpets: so 'tis cleare,
      They'l say tis naught. Others to heare the City
      Abus'd extreamly, and to cry that's witty,
      Which wee haue not done neither; that I feare
      All the expected good w'are like to heare.
      For this Play at this time, is onely in
      The mercifull construction of good women,
      For such a one we shew'd 'em: If they smile,
      And say twill doe; I know within a while,
      All the best men are ours; for 'tis ill hap,
      If they hold, when their Ladies bid 'em clap.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: The common people are crowding the palace court, eager to witness the new princes at her christening. The Porter and his man attempt vainly to bring the multitude to order. The people are imperious to authority and have overpowered those who tried to hold them back. An angry lord Chamberlain informs the porter that if the King blames him for this mob, he will ensure that the porters are imprisoned. As the royal party comes out after the christening, the porter and his man part the crowd to ensure their unhindered progress.


prompt:
Chapter: I Come no more to make you laugh, Things now,
  That beare a Weighty, and a Serious Brow,
  Sad, high, and working, full of State and Woe:
  Such Noble Scoenes, as draw the Eye to flow
  We now present. Those that can Pitty, heere
  May (if they thinke it well) let fall a Teare,
  The Subiect will deserue it. Such as giue
  Their Money out of hope they may beleeue,
  May heere finde Truth too. Those that come to see
  Onely a show or two, and so agree,
  The Play may passe: If they be still, and willing,
  Ile vndertake may see away their shilling
  Richly in two short houres. Onely they
  That come to heare a Merry, Bawdy Play,
  A noyse of Targets: Or to see a Fellow
  In a long Motley Coate, garded with Yellow,
  Will be deceyu'd. For gentle Hearers, know
  To ranke our chosen Truth with such a show
  As Foole, and Fight is, beside forfeyting
  Our owne Braines, and the Opinion that we bring
  To make that onely true, we now intend,
  Will leaue vs neuer an vnderstanding Friend.
  Therefore, for Goodnesse sake, and as you are knowne
  The First and Happiest Hearers of the Towne,
  Be sad, as we would make ye. Thinke ye see
  The very Persons of our Noble Story,
  As they were Liuing: Thinke you see them Great,
  And follow'd with the generall throng, and sweat
  Of thousand Friends: Then, in a moment, see
  How soone this Mightinesse, meets Misery:
  And if you can be merry then, Ile say,
  A Man may weepe vpon his Wedding day.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: The Prologue enters and explains that he is not here to make the audience laugh, but to tell of serious and noble matters that will awaken their pity. Those who want a bawdy comedy will be disappointed. The Prologue asks the audience to imagine that the characters are alive, as the play will present only the truth. Though the characters occupy positions of power, the play will show how "mightiness meets misery."


prompt:
Chapter: Enter the Duke of Norfolke at one doore. At the other, the Duke of
Buckingham, and the Lord Aburgauenny.

Buckingham. Good morrow, and well met. How haue ye done
Since last we saw in France?
Norf. I thanke your Grace:
Healthfull, and euer since a fresh Admirer
Of what I saw there

Buck. An vntimely Ague
Staid me a Prisoner in my Chamber, when
Those Sunnes of Glory, those two Lights of Men
Met in the vale of Andren

Nor. 'Twixt Guynes and Arde,
    I was then present, saw them salute on Horsebacke,
    Beheld them when they lighted, how they clung
    In their Embracement, as they grew together,
    Which had they,
    What foure Thron'd ones could haue weigh'd
    Such a compounded one?
    Buck. All the whole time
    I was my Chambers Prisoner

    Nor. Then you lost
    The view of earthly glory: Men might say
    Till this time Pompe was single, but now married
    To one aboue it selfe. Each following day
    Became the next dayes master, till the last
    Made former Wonders, it's. To day the French,
    All Clinquant all in Gold, like Heathen Gods
    Shone downe the English; and to morrow, they
    Made Britaine, India: Euery man that stood,
    Shew'd like a Mine. Their Dwarfish Pages were
    As Cherubins, all gilt: the Madams too,
    Not vs'd to toyle, did almost sweat to beare
    The Pride vpon them, that their very labour
    Was to them, as a Painting. Now this Maske
    Was cry'de incompareable; and th' ensuing night
    Made it a Foole, and Begger. The two Kings
    Equall in lustre, were now best, now worst
    As presence did present them: Him in eye,
    Still him in praise, and being present both,
    'Twas said they saw but one, and no Discerner
    Durst wagge his Tongue in censure, when these Sunnes
    (For so they phrase 'em) by their Heralds challeng'd
    The Noble Spirits to Armes, they did performe
    Beyond thoughts Compasse, that former fabulous Storie
    Being now seene, possible enough, got credit
    That Beuis was beleeu'd

    Buc. Oh you go farre

    Nor. As I belong to worship, and affect
    In Honor, Honesty, the tract of eu'ry thing,
    Would by a good Discourser loose some life,
    Which Actions selfe, was tongue too

    Buc. All was Royall,
    To the disposing of it nought rebell'd,
    Order gaue each thing view. The Office did
    Distinctly his full Function: who did guide,
    I meane who set the Body, and the Limbes
    Of this great Sport together?
    Nor. As you guesse:
    One certes, that promises no Element
    In such a businesse

    Buc. I pray you who, my Lord?
    Nor. All this was ordred by the good Discretion
    Of the right Reuerend Cardinall of Yorke

    Buc. The diuell speed him: No mans Pye is freed
    From his Ambitious finger. What had he
    To do in these fierce Vanities? I wonder,
    That such a Keech can with his very bulke
    Take vp the Rayes o'th' beneficiall Sun,
    And keepe it from the Earth

    Nor. Surely Sir,
    There's in him stuffe, that put's him to these ends:
    For being not propt by Auncestry, whose grace
    Chalkes Successors their way; nor call'd vpon
    For high feats done to'th' Crowne; neither Allied
    To eminent Assistants; but Spider-like
    Out of his Selfe-drawing Web. O giues vs note,
    The force of his owne merit makes his way
    A guift that heauen giues for him, which buyes
    A place next to the King

    Abur. I cannot tell
    What Heauen hath giuen him: let some Grauer eye
    Pierce into that, but I can see his Pride
    Peepe through each part of him: whence ha's he that,
    If not from Hell? The Diuell is a Niggard,
    Or ha's giuen all before, and he begins
    A new Hell in himselfe

    Buc. Why the Diuell,
    Vpon this French going out, tooke he vpon him
    (Without the priuity o'th' King) t' appoint
    Who should attend on him? He makes vp the File
    Of all the Gentry; for the most part such
    To whom as great a Charge, as little Honor
    He meant to lay vpon: and his owne Letter
    The Honourable Boord of Councell, out
    Must fetch him in, he Papers

    Abur. I do know
    Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that haue
    By this, so sicken'd their Estates, that neuer
    They shall abound as formerly

    Buc. O many
    Haue broke their backes with laying Mannors on 'em
    For this great Iourney. What did this vanity
    But minister communication of
    A most poore issue

    Nor. Greeuingly I thinke,
    The Peace betweene the French and vs, not valewes
    The Cost that did conclude it

    Buc. Euery man,
    After the hideous storme that follow'd, was
    A thing Inspir'd, and not consulting, broke
    Into a generall Prophesie; That this Tempest
    Dashing the Garment of this Peace, aboaded
    The sodaine breach on't

    Nor. Which is budded out,
    For France hath flaw'd the League, and hath attach'd
    Our Merchants goods at Burdeux

    Abur. Is it therefore
    Th' Ambassador is silenc'd?
    Nor. Marry is't

    Abur. A proper Title of a Peace, and purchas'd
    At a superfluous rate

    Buc. Why all this Businesse
    Our Reuerend Cardinall carried

    Nor. Like it your Grace,
    The State takes notice of the priuate difference
    Betwixt you, and the Cardinall. I aduise you
    (And take it from a heart, that wishes towards you
     Honor, and plenteous safety) that you reade
    The Cardinals Malice, and his Potency
    Together; To consider further, that
    What his high Hatred would effect, wants not
    A Minister in his Power. You know his Nature,
    That he's Reuengefull; and I know, his Sword
    Hath a sharpe edge: It's long, and't may be saide
    It reaches farre, and where 'twill not extend,
    Thither he darts it. Bosome vp my counsell,
    You'l finde it wholesome. Loe, where comes that Rock
    That I aduice your shunning.
    Enter Cardinall Wolsey, the Purse borne before him, certaine of
    the Guard,
    and two Secretaries with Papers: The Cardinall in his passage,
    fixeth his
    eye on Buckingham, and Buckingham on him, both full of
    disdaine.

    Car. The Duke of Buckinghams Surueyor? Ha?
    Where's his Examination?
    Secr. Heere so please you

    Car. Is he in person, ready?
    Secr. I, please your Grace

    Car. Well, we shall then know more, & Buckingham
    Shall lessen this bigge looke.

    Exeunt. Cardinall, and his Traine.

    Buc. This Butchers Curre is venom'd-mouth'd, and I
    Haue not the power to muzzle him, therefore best
    Not wake him in his slumber. A Beggers booke,
    Out-worths a Nobles blood

    Nor. What are you chaff'd?
    Aske God for Temp'rance, that's th' appliance onely
    Which your disease requires

    Buc. I read in's looks
    Matter against me, and his eye reuil'd
    Me as his abiect obiect, at this instant
    He bores me with some tricke; He's gone to'th' King:
    Ile follow, and out-stare him

    Nor. Stay my Lord,
    And let your Reason with your Choller question
    What 'tis you go about: to climbe steepe hilles
    Requires slow pace at first. Anger is like
    A full hot Horse, who being allow'd his way
    Selfe-mettle tyres him: Not a man in England
    Can aduise me like you: Be to your selfe,
    As you would to your Friend

    Buc. Ile to the King,
    And from a mouth of Honor, quite cry downe
    This Ipswich fellowes insolence; or proclaime,
    There's difference in no persons

    Norf. Be aduis'd;
    Heat not a Furnace for your foe so hot
    That it do sindge your selfe. We may out-runne
    By violent swiftnesse that which we run at;
    And lose by ouer-running: know you not,
    The fire that mounts the liquor til't run ore,
    In seeming to augment it, wasts it: be aduis'd;
I say againe there is no English Soule
More stronger to direct you then your selfe;
If with the sap of reason you would quench,
   Or but allay the fire of passion

   Buck. Sir,
   I am thankfull to you, and Ile goe along
   By your prescription: but this top-proud fellow,
   Whom from the flow of gall I name not, but
   From sincere motions, by Intelligence,
   And proofes as cleere as Founts in Iuly, when
   Wee see each graine of grauell; I doe know
   To be corrupt and treasonous

   Norf. Say not treasonous

   Buck. To th' King Ile say't, & make my vouch as strong
   As shore of Rocke: attend. This holy Foxe,
   Or Wolfe, or both (for he is equall rau'nous
           As he is subtile, and as prone to mischiefe,
           As able to perform't) his minde, and place
   Infecting one another, yea reciprocally,
   Only to shew his pompe, as well in France,
   As here at home, suggests the King our Master
   To this last costly Treaty: Th' enteruiew,
   That swallowed so much treasure, and like a glasse
   Did breake ith' wrenching

   Norf. Faith, and so it did

   Buck. Pray giue me fauour Sir: This cunning Cardinall
   The Articles o'th' Combination drew
   As himselfe pleas'd; and they were ratified
   As he cride thus let be, to as much end,
   As giue a Crutch to th' dead. But our Count-Cardinall
   Has done this, and tis well: for worthy Wolsey
   (Who cannot erre) he did it. Now this followes,
   (Which as I take it, is a kinde of Puppie
    To th' old dam Treason) Charles the Emperour,
   Vnder pretence to see the Queene his Aunt,
   (For twas indeed his colour, but he came
    To whisper Wolsey) here makes visitation,
   His feares were that the Interview betwixt
   England and France, might through their amity
   Breed him some preiudice; for from this League,
   Peep'd harmes that menac'd him. Priuily
   Deales with our Cardinal, and as I troa
   Which I doe well; for I am sure the Emperour
   Paid ere he promis'd, whereby his Suit was granted
   Ere it was ask'd. But when the way was made
   And pau'd with gold: the Emperor thus desir'd,
   That he would please to alter the Kings course,
   And breake the foresaid peace. Let the King know
   (As soone he shall by me) that thus the Cardinall
   Does buy and sell his Honour as he pleases,
   And for his owne aduantage

   Norf. I am sorry
   To heare this of him; and could wish he were
   Somthing mistaken in't

   Buck. No, not a sillable:
   I doe pronounce him in that very shape
   He shall appeare in proofe.
   Enter Brandon, a Sergeant at Armes before him, and two or three
   of the
   Guard.

   Brandon. Your Office Sergeant: execute it

   Sergeant. Sir,
   My Lord the Duke of Buckingham, and Earle
   Of Hertford, Stafford and Northampton, I
   Arrest thee of High Treason, in the name
   Of our most Soueraigne King

   Buck. Lo you my Lord,
   The net has falne vpon me, I shall perish
   Vnder deuice, and practise

   Bran. I am sorry,
   To see you tane from liberty, to looke on
   The busines present. Tis his Highnes pleasure
   You shall to th' Tower

   Buck. It will helpe me nothing
   To plead mine Innocence; for that dye is on me
   Which makes my whit'st part, black. The will of Heau'n
   Be done in this and all things: I obey.
   O my Lord Aburgany: Fare you well

   Bran. Nay, he must beare you company. The King
   Is pleas'd you shall to th' Tower, till you know
   How he determines further

   Abur. As the Duke said,
   The will of Heauen be done, and the Kings pleasure
   By me obey'd

   Bran. Here is a warrant from
   The King, t' attach Lord Mountacute, and the Bodies
   Of the Dukes Confessor, Iohn de la Car,
   One Gilbert Pecke, his Councellour

   Buck. So, so;
   These are the limbs o'th' Plot: no more I hope

   Bra. A Monke o'th' Chartreux

   Buck. O Michaell Hopkins?
   Bra. He

   Buck. My Surueyor is falce: The oregreat Cardinall
   Hath shew'd him gold; my life is spand already:
   I am the shadow of poore Buckingham,
   Whose Figure euen this instant Clowd puts on,
   By Darkning my cleere Sunne. My Lords farewell.

   Exe.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: The play opens in a room at the court of King Henry VIII, in London. The Duke of Norfolk meets the Duke of Buckingham and Lord Abergavenny. Buckingham asks Norfolk how he has been since they last met in France. Norfolk replies that he is well, and still admires what he saw there. They had accompanied the king to a great display of wealth and military prowess by England and France, which took place in a field in France. Norfolk describes the impressive scene to Buckingham, who had missed everything through illness. Buckingham asks who organized the event, and Norfolk says it was Cardinal Wolsey, the king's chief advisor. Buckingham voices his contempt and dislike for Wolsey as an ambitious, meddling self-seeker, and condemns the event in France as "vanities." Norfolk is more conciliatory, pointing out that Wolsey lacks the example lent by noble ancestors and experienced assistants; he is a self-made man and has only his own resources to rely on. Abergavenny joins in with Buckingham's condemnation of Wolsey, criticising his pride, which he says is "from hell." Buckingham adds that Wolsey did not seek the king's permission when deciding who should go to France. Wolsey made the nobles pay for the event, yet he gave least honor to those who paid most. Abergavenny confirms that several of his relatives funded the event by selling part of their estates, which would never recover. Buckingham says the event resulted only in a massive waste of money and empty talk. Norfolk agrees that the peace between England and France does not justify such a cost. In any case, France has broken the agreement by seizing British merchants' goods at Bordeaux. But he warns Buckingham to be careful, since Wolsey is a powerful and vengeful man. They are interrupted by the arrival of Wolsey with his guards and secretaries. Wolsey and Buckingham glare at each other. Wolsey asks a secretary if Buckingham's former Surveyor , who has come to give evidence against him, has arrived. The secretary says he has, and Wolsey leaves with his party. Buckingham fears that Wolsey is plotting against him. He thinks he is on his way to the king to stir up trouble for him, and decides to follow him. But Norfolk warns Buckingham against this, advising him to calm down and show restraint. Buckingham takes his advice, though he says he has proof that Wolsey is corrupt and treasonous. Norfolk is shocked by the accusation of treason, but Buckingham insists that he will say as much to the king, and provide proof. Buckingham enumerates Wolsey's faults: he is greedy, cunning, and given to mischief; he organized the French event simply to show off his high status in France as well as England; and he drew up the France-England treaty that was agreed there to suit his own ends. He also deals with Queen Katherine's nephew, Charles V, the Holy Roman Emperor and king of Spain, behind King Henry's back. Charles had been worried at the prospect of England forming an alliance with France, as it would threaten Spain's interests. Wolsey, says Buckingham, buys and sells the king's honor for his own advantage. At that moment, Brandon, the sergeant-at-arms, comes in with the Guard, and arrests Buckingham in the name of the king, on the charge of high treason. Buckingham is certain that Wolsey has arranged this. He says goodbye to Abergavenny, but Brandon says he has come to arrest him too, along with others among their friends. Buckingham says that Wolsey must have bribed the Surveyor to incriminate him. As the prisoners are taken to be locked up in the Tower of London, Buckingham believes his life is over.