Page 1736 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

More than, I fear, you are provided for.

CRANMER
Ah, my good lord of Winchester, I thank you;
You are always my good friend. If your will pass,
I shall both find your lordship judge and juror,
You are so merciful. I see your end: [95]

’Tis my undoing. Love and meekness, lord,
Become a churchman better than ambition.
Win straying souls with modesty again;

Cast none away. That I shall clear myself,
Lay all the weight ye can upon my patience, [100]
I make as little doubt as you do conscience
In doing daily wrongs. I could say more,
But reverence to your calling makes me modest.

GARDINER
My lord, my lord, you are a sectary,
That’s the plain truth. Your painted gloss discovers, [105]
To men that understand you, words and weakness.

CROMWELL
My lord of Winchester, you are a little,

By your good favour, too sharp. Men so noble,
However faulty, yet should find respect
For what they have been. ’Tis a cruelty [110]
To load a falling man.

GARDINER
Good master secretary,

I cry your honour mercy; you may worst
Of all this table say so.

CROMWELL
Why, my lord?

GARDINER