Suf. How sad he looks! sure, he is much afflicted.[314] 60
King. Who's there, ha?
Nor. Pray God he be not angry.[315]
King. Who's there, I say? How dare you thrust yourselves
Into my private meditations?
Who am I? ha?
Nor. A gracious king that pardons all offences 65
Malice ne'er meant: our breach of duty this way
Is business of estate, in which we come
To know your royal pleasure.
King. Ye are too bold:[316]
Go to; I'll make ye know your times of business:
Is this an hour for temporal affairs, ha? 70
Enter Wolsey and Campeius, with a commission.[317]
Who's there? my good lord cardinal? O my Wolsey,
The quiet of my wounded conscience,
Thou art a cure fit for a king. [To Camp.] You're welcome,[318]
Most learned reverend sir, into our kingdom:
Use us and it. [To Wols.] My good lord, have great care[319] 75
I be not found a talker.
Wol. Sir, you cannot.
I would your grace would give us but an hour
Of private conference.
King. [To Nor. and Suf.] We are busy; go.