Damn this Pope’s cursing.
Hen. Why call me Liege? The king hath gone, my Lord.
He went out yesterday when Gregory’s curse
Filled all this precinct. I am only Henry,
A leprous, palsied, outcast, damnéd man.
Where are my servants? Have they fled me too?
Bam. They have, my Liege!
Hen. Gregory thou mighty monster, what art thou?
Thou art not God, for God at least is kind.
Thou art not nature, its workings are too slow