Thou hast the sweetest face I ever look'd on.-
Sir, as I have a soul, she is an angel;
Our king has all the Indies in his arms,
And more, and richer, when he strains that lady:
Icano: blame his conscience.
The cloth of honor over her, are four barons
A man in much esteem with the king, and truly
A worthy friend.-The king
Has made hun master o' the jewel-house,
And one, already, of the privy-council.
2 Gent. He will deserve more.
3 Gent.
Yes, without all doubt.
Come, gentlemen, ye shall go my way, which
2 Gent. Those men are happy; and so are all, Is to the court, and there ye shall be my guests
I take it, she that carries up the train,
Is that old noble lady, duchess of Norfolk.
Gent. It is; and all the rest are countesses.
2 Gent. Their coronets say so. These are stars indeed;
And, sometimes, falling ones.
1 Gent.
No more of that.
[Erit Procession, with a great flourish of
Trumpets.
Enter a Third Gentleman.
God save you, sir! where have you been broiling? 3 Gent. Among the crowd i' the abbey; where a
Could not be wedg'd in more; and I am stifled
With the mere rankness of their joy.
3 Gent. Well worth the seeing.
Good sir, speak it to us.
3 Gent. As well as I am able. The rich stream
Of lords, and ladies, having brought the queen
To a prepar'd place in the choir, fell off
A distance from her; while her grace sat down
To rest a while, some half an hour, or so,
La rich chair of state, opposing freely
The beauty of her person to the people.
beheve me, sir, she is the goodliest woman
That ever lay by man; which when the people
Had the full view of, such a noise arose
As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest,
As loud, and to as many tunes: hats, cloaks,
Doublets, I think,) flew up; and had their faces
Eeen loose, this day they had been lost. Such joy
Itever saw before. Great-bellied women,
That had not half a week to go, like rams
In the old time of war, would shake the press,
Add make them reel before them. No man living
Could say, This is my wife, there; all were woven
bo strangely in one piece.
2 Gent.
But, 'pray, what follow'd?
3 Gent. At length her grace rose, and with modest
Came to the altar; where she kneel'd, and, saint-
like,
Cast her fair eyes to heaven, and pray'd devoutly.
Then rose again, and bow'd her to the people:
When by the archbishop of Canterbury
She had all the royal makings of a queen;
As holy oil, Edward Contessor's crown,
The rod, and bird of peace, and all such emblems
Ladobly on her: which perform'd, the choir,
With all the choicest music of the kingdom,
Together sung Te Deum. So she parted,
And with the same full state paced back again
To York-place, where the feast is held.
1 Gent.
Mist no more call it York-place, that is past:
For, since the cardinal fell, that title's lost;
To now the king's, and call'd-Whitehall.
3 Gent.
But 'tis so lately alter'd, that the old name
E fresh about me.
2 Gent.
What two reverend bishops
Wen those that went on each side of the queen?
3 Gent. Stokesly and Gardiner; the one, of Win-
chester.
Newly preferr'd from the king's secretary,)
The other. London.
You may command us, sir. [Exeunt
SCENE II.-Kimbolton.
Enter KATHARINE, Dowager, sick; led between
GRIFFITH and PATIENCE.
Grif. How does your grace?
Kath.
O, Griffith, sick to death:
My legs, like loaden branches, bow to the earth,
Willing to leave their burden: Reach a chair;-
So, now, methinks, I feel a little ease.
Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou led'st me,
That the great child of honor, cardinal Wolsey,
Was dead!
Grif. Yes, madam; but I think, your grace,
Out of the pain you suffer'd, gave no ear to 't.
Kath. Prythee, good Griffith, tell me how he
died:
If well, he stepp'd before me, happily,9
For my example.
Well, the voice goes, madam:
For after the stout earl Northumberland
Arrested him at York, and brought him forward
(As a man sorely tainted) to his answer,
He fell sick suddenly, and grew so ill,
He could not sit his mule.
Kath.
Grif. At last, with easy roads, he came to Leicester,
Lodg'd in the abbey; where the reverend abbot,
With all his couvent, honorably receiv'd him;
To whom he gave these words,-0, father abbot,
An old man, broken with the storms of stute,
Is come to lay his weary bones among ye;
Give him a little earth for charity!
So went to bed: where eagerly his sickness
Pursu'd him still; and three nights after this,
About the hour of eight, (which he himself
Foretold should be his last,) full of repentance,
Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows,
He gave his honors to the world again,
His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace.
Kath. So may he rest; his faults lie gently on
him!
Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak him,
And yet with charity,-He was a man
Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking
Himself with princes; one that by suggestion
Ty'd all the kingdom: simony was fair play;
His own opinion was his law; I' the presencel
He would say untruths; and be ever double
Both in his words and meaning: He was never
But where he meant to ruin, pitiful:
He promises were, as he then was, mighty:
But his performance, as he is now, nothing.
Of his own body he was ill, and gave
The clergy ill example.
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I know it: I were malicious else.
Grif.
The cardinal,
Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly
Was fashion'd to much honor. From his cradle,
He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one;
Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading
Lofty, and sour, to them that lov'd him not;
But,to those men that sought him, sweet as summer.
And though he were unsatisfied in getting,
(Which was a sin,) yet in bestowing, madam,
He was most princely: Ever witness for him
Those twins of learning, that he raised in you,
Ipswich, and Oxford! one of which fell with him
Unwilling to outlive the good that did it;
The other, though unfinish'd, yet so tamous,
So excellent in art, and still so rising,
That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.
. Haply.
Of the king
Ipswich.
His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him;
For then, and not till then, he felt himself,
And found the blessedness of being little:
And, to add greater honors to his age
Than man could give him, he died, fearing God.
Kuth. After my death I wish no other herald,
No other speaker of my living actions,
To keep mine honor from corruption,
But such an honest chronicler as Griffith.
Whom I most hated living, thou hast made me,
With thy religious truth, and modesty,
Now in his ashes honor: Peace be with him!-
Patience, be near me still; and set me lower:
I have not long to trouble thee.-Good Griffith,
Cause the musicians play me that sad note
I named my knell, whilst I sit meditating
On that celestial harmony I go to.
Grif. She is asleep. Good wench, let's sit down quiet,
Re-enter GRIFFITH with CAPUCIUS.
If my sight fail not,
You should be lord ambassador from the emperor,
My royal nephew, and your name Capucius,
Cap. Madam, the same, your servant.
Kuth.
0. 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!
Сар.
Noble lady,
First, mine own service to your grace; the next,
The king's request that I would visit you;
Who grieves much for your weakness, and by rie;
Sends you his princely commendations,
And heartily entreats you take good comfort.
Kath. O my good lord, that comfort comes to
late;
'Tis like a pardon after execution:
That gentle physic, given in time, had cured me;
But now I am past all comforts here, but prayers
How does his highness?
Сар.
Madam, in good health.
Kath. So may he ever do! and ever flourish,
When I shall dwell with worms, and my poor name
Banish'd the kingdom!-Patience, is that letter,
I caus'd you write, yet sent away?
Pat.
No, madam.
[Giving it to KATHARINE
Kath. Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliver
This to my lord the king.
Сар.
Most willing, madarı.
Kath. In which I have commended to his good
The model of our chaste loves, his young daugh ter;3
For fear we wake her;-Softly, gentle Patience. The Vision. Enter, solemnly tripping one after another, six Personages, clad in white robes, wearing on their heads garlants of bays and golden vizards on their faces: branches of bays or palm in their hands. They first congee unto her, then dance; and, at certain changes, the first two hold a spare garland over her head; at which, the other four make reverend court'sies; then the two that held the garland, deliver the same to the other next two, who observe the same order in their changes, and holding the garland over her head; which done, they deliver the same garland to the lust two, who likewise observe the same order: at which, (as it were by inspiration.) she The dews of heaven fall thick in blessings on her!-rakes in her sleep signs of rejoicing, and holdeth Beseeching him to give her virtuous breeding, up her hands to heaven: and so in their dancing(She is young, and of a noble modest nature; they vanish, carrying the garland with them. I hope, she will deserve well;) and a little, The music continues. To love her for her mother's sake, that lov'd him, Heaven knows how dearly. My next poor petila a Is, that his noble grace would have some pity Upon my wretched women, that so long Have follow'd both my fortunes faithfully: Of which there is not one, I dare avow, (And now I should not lie,) but will deserve For virtue, and true beauty of the soul, For honesty, and decent carriage,
Kath. Spirits of peace, where are ye? Are ye all
gone?
And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye?
Grif. Madam, we are here.
Kath.
It is not you I call for:
Saw ye none enter, since I slept?
Grif.
None, madam.
Kath. No? Saw you not, even now, a blessed troop
Invite me to a banquet; whose bright faces
Cast thousand beams upon me, like the sun?
They promis'd me eternal happiness;
And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel
I am not worthy yet to wear: I shall,
Assuredly.
A right good husband, let him be a noble:
And, sure, those men are happy that shall have
The last is, for my men :-they are the poorest,
But poverty could never draw them from me:-
That they may have their wages duly paid them.
Grif. I am most joyful, madam, such good And something over to remember me by ;
They are harsh and heavy to me. [Music ceases.
Pat.
Do you note,
How much her grace is alter'd on the sudden?
How long her face is drawn? How pale she looks,
And of an earthy cold? Mark you her eyes?
Grif. She is going, wench; pray, pray.
Pat.
Heaven comfort her?
Enter a Messenger.
Mess. An't like your grace,-
Kath.
You are a saucy fellow:
Ieserve we no more reverence?
Grif.
You are to blame,
Knowing, she will not lose her wonted greatness,
To use so rude behaviour: go to, kneel.
Mess. I humbly do entreat your highness' pardon:
My haste made me unmannerly: There is staying
A gentleman, sent from the king, to see you.
Kath. Admit him entrance, Griffith: But this
[Exeunt GRIFFITH and Messenger.
If heaven had pleas'd to have given me longer life,
And able means, we had not parted thus.
These are the whole contents:-And, good my
lord,
By that you love the dearest in this world.
As you wish christian peace to souls departed,
Stand these poor people's friend, and urge the king
To do me this last right.
Сар.
By heaven, I will!
Or let me lose the fashion of a man!
Kath. I thank you, honest lord. Remember re
In all humility unto his highness:
Say, his long trouble now is passing
Out of this world: tell him, in death I bless'd ham,
For so I will.-Mine eyes grow dim.-Farewell,
My lord.-Grithith, farewell.-Nay, Patience,
You must not leave me yet. I must to bed:
Call in more women. When I am dead, good wench,
Let me be used with honor; strew me over
With maiden flowers, that all the world may know
I was a chaste wife to my grave: embalm me,
Then lay me forth: although unqueen'd, yet like
A queen, and daughter to a king, inter me.
I can no more.-[Exeunt, leading KATHARING
Afterwards queen Mary.
Hear me, sir Thomas: you are a gentleman
i thine own way; I know you wise, religious;
And, let me tell you, it will ne'er be well,-
Ewill not, sir Thomas Lovell, take't of me,
Tall Craumer, Cromwell, her two hands, and she,
Seep in their graves.
Lue.
Now, sir, you speak of two
Suf. Sir, I did never win of you before.
K. Hen. But little, Charles;
Nor shall not, when my fancy's on my play.--
Now, Lovell, from the queen what is the news
Lov. I could not personally deliver to her
What you commanded me, but by her woman
I sent your message; who return'd her thanks
In the greatest humbleness, and desired your high
Most heartily to pray for her.
What say'st thou? ha!
To pray for her? what, is she crying out!
Lov. So said her woman; and that her suffer.
ance made
Almost each pang a death.
Alas, good lady!
K. Hen.
Suf. God safely quit her of her burden, and
With gentle travail, to the gladding of
Your highness with an heir!
'Tis midnight, Charles,
Pr'ythee, to bed; and in thy prayers remember
The estate of my poor queen. Leave me alone,
For I must think of that, which company
Will not be friendly to.
I wish your highness
Suf.
A quiet night, and my good mistress will
Remember in my prayers.
K. Hen.
Charles, good night. [Exit SUFFOLK
Enter SIR ANTHONY DENNY.
Well, sir, what follows!
Den. Sir, I have brought my lord the archbishop,
As you commanded me.
K. Hen.
Den. Ay, my good lord.
K. Hen.
'Tis true: Where is he, Denny?
Den. He attends your highness' pleasure.
Lov. This is about that which the bishop spake;
I am happily come hither.
Re-enter DENNY, with CRANMER.
Avoid the gallery.
K. Hen.
[LOVELL seems to stay.
Ha!-I have said.-Be gone.
[Exeunt LOVELL and DENNY.
What-
Cran. I am fearful: Wherefore frowns he thus !
All's not well.
The most remark'd i' the kingdom. As for Crom-Tis his aspect of terror,
K. Hen. How now, my lord? You do desire to
know
Wherefore I sent for you.
Crun:
Beside that of the jewel-house, he's made master
It is my duty,
6 the rolls, and the king's secretary; further, sir,
Stands in the gap and trade of more preferments,
K. Hen.
With which the time will load him: The archbi-To attend your highness' pleasure.
shop
Come, you and I must walk a turn together;
Is the king's hand, and tongue; And who dare My good and gracious lord of Canterbury.
speak
Yes, yes, sir Thomas,
There are that dare; and I myself have ventur'd
speak my mind of him: and, indeed, this day,
ST, (I may tell it you,) I think, I have
teens'd the lords o' the council, that he is
For so I know he is, they know he is)
A most arch heretic, a pestilence
That does infect the land: with which they moved,
Have broken with the king; who hath so far
miten ear to our complaint, (of his great grace
And princely care; foreseeing those fell mischiefs,
97 reasons laid before him,) he hath commanded
To-morrow morning to the council-board
He be convented. He's a rank weed, sir Thomas,
And we must root him out. From your affairs
binder you too long: good night, sir Thomas.
lot. Many good nights, my lord; I rest your
[Exeunt GARDINER and Page.
de LOVELL is going out, enter the KING and the
DUKE OF SUFFOLK.
Cran.
I humbly thank your highness
And am right glad to catch the good occasion
Most thoroughly to be winnow 'd, where my chal
And corn shall tly asunder: for, I know,
under more calumnic as
There's none stands
tongues,
Told their minds to. Than I myself, poor man
K. Hen.
Thy truth, and thy integrity, is rooted
In us, thy friend: Give me thy hand, stand up;
Pr'ythee, let's walk. Now, by my holy-dame,
What manner of man are you? My lord, I look'd
You would have given me your petition, that
I should have ta'en some pains to bring together
Yourself and your accusers; and to have heard you
Without indurance, further.
Stand up, good Canterbury; | That was sent to me from the council, pray'd me
To make great haste. All fast! what means thus
Most dread liege, The good I stand on is my truth, and honesty; It they shall fail, I, with mine enemies, Will triumph o'er my person; which I weigh not, Being of those virtues vacant. I fear nothing What can be said against me.
Know you not how Your state stands i' the world, with the whole world! Your enemies
Are many, and not small; their practices
Must bear the same proportion: and not ever
The justice and the truth o' the question carries
The due o' the verdict with it: At what ease
Might corrupt minds procure knaves as corrupt
To swear against you? such things have been done.
You are potently oppos'd; and with a malice
Of as great size. Ween9 you of better luck.
I mean in perjur'd witness, than your Master,
Whose minister you are, whiles here he liv'd'
Upon this naughty earth? Go to, go to;
You take a precipice for no leap of danger,
And woo your own destruction.
Cran.
God, and your majesty,
Protect mine innocence, or I fall into
The trap is laid for me!
K. Hen. They shall no more prevail, than we give way to. Keep comfort to you; and this morning see You do appear before them: if they shall chance, In charging you with matters, to commit you, The best persuasions to the contrary Fail not to use, and with what vehemency The occasion shall instruct you: if entreaties Will render you no remedy, this ring Deliver them, and your appeal to us
There make before them.-Look, the good man weeps!
He's honest, on mine honor. God's blest mother!
I swear, he is true-hearted; and a soul
None better in my kingdom.-Get you gone.
And do as I have bid you.-[Exit CRANMER.] He
has strangled
His language in his tears.
Enter an old Lady.
Who waits there?-Sure you know me?
D. Keep.
But yet I cannot help you.
Cran.
D. Keep. Your grace must wait till you be call'
I came this way so happily: The king
Butts. This is a piece of malice; I am glad
Shall understand it presently.
[Exit Birs 'Tis Butts, The king's physician: As he past along, How earnestly he cast his eyes upon me! Pray heaven, he sound not my disgrace! For cer
This is of purpose lay'd, by some that hate me, (God turn their hearts! I never sought their malice.) To quench mine honor: they would shame to make me
Wait else at door; a fellow-counsellor, Among boys, grooms, and lackeys. But their pleasures
Must be fulfill'd, and I attend with patience.
Enter, at a Window above, the KING and BUTTS. Butts. I'll show your grace the strangest sight.K. Hen. What's that, Butts! Butts. I think your highness saw this many a day. K. Hen. Body o' me, where is it? Butts. There, my lord: The high promotion of his grace of Canterbury: Who holds his state at door, 'mongst pursuivants, Pages, and footboys.
Is this the honor they do one another! "Tis well, there's one above them yet. I had thought, They had parted so much honesty amongst them. (At least, good manners,) as not thus to suffer A man of his place, and so near our favor, To dance attendance on their lordship's pleasures, And at the door too, like a post with packets. By holy Mary, Butts, there's knavery: Let them alone, and draw the curtain close: We shall hear more anon.[Exeunt.
The Council-Chamber. Enter the Lord Chancellor, the DUKES OF SUFFOLK and NORFOLK, EARL OF SURREY, Lord Cham berlain, GARDINER, and CROMWELL. The Chan cellor places himself at the upper end of the Table, on the left hand; a Seal being lel wil above him, as for the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTER BURY. The rest seat themselves in order on each side. CROMWELL at the lower end as Secretary. Chan. Speak to the business, master secretary: Why are we met in council! Crom. Please your honors, The chief cause concerns his grace of Canterbury. Gar. Has he had knowledge of it! Crom.
D. Keep. Without, my noble lords? Gar.
Yes. My lord archbishop: And has done half an hour, to know your pleasures Chan. Let him come in.
D. Keep. Your grace may enter now, [CRANMER approaches the Council-TaNt. Chan. My good lord archbishop, I am very sorry To sit here at this present, and behold That chair stand empty: But we all are men, In our own natures frail; out of which frailty, And want of wisdom, you, that best should teach cs, Have misdemean'd yourself, and not a little, Toward the king first, then his laws, in filling The whole realm, by your teaching, and your chaplains,
(For so we are inform'd,) with new opinions, Divers and dangerous, which are heresies, And, not reform'd, may prove pernicious.
Gar. Which reformation must be sudden too,
My noble lords: for those that tame wild horses,
Pace them not in their hands to make them gentis; But stop their mouths with stubborn bits, and spar
Till they obey the manage. If we suffer
(Out of our easiness and childish pit
To one man's honor) this contagious sickness,
Farewell, all physic; And what follows then?
Commotions, uproars, with a general taint
the whole state: as, of late days, our neighbors, The upper Germany, can dearly witness, Tet freshly pitied in our memories.
Cran. My good lords, hitherto, in all the progress
Both of my life and office, I have labor'd,
And with no little study, that my teaching,
And the strong course of my authority,
Might go one way, and safely; and the end
Was ever, to do well; nor is there living,
(1-peak it with a single heart, my lords,)
A rian, that more detests, more stirs against,
Both in his private conscience, and his place,
arers of a public peace, than I do.
Pray heaven, the king may never find a heart
W less allegiance in it! Men, that make
Eavy, and crooked malice, nourishment,
Pare bite the best. I do beseech your lordships,
That, in this case of justice, my accusers,
Be what they will, may stand forth face to face,
And freely urge against me.
Nay, my lord, That cannot be; you are a counsellor,
And, by that virtue, no man dare accuse you. Gar. My lord, because we have business of more moment,
We will be short with you. 'Tis his highness' pleasure,
And our consent, for better trial of you,
From hence you be committed to the Tower;
Where, being but a private man again,
You shall know many dare accuse you boldly,
More than, I fear, you are provided for.
Cran.Ali, my good lord of Winchester,I thank you,
You are always my good friend; if your will pass,
Ismall both find your lordship judge and juror,
you are so merciful; I see your end,
Tis my undoing: Love, and meekness, lord,
Become a churchman better than ambition;
Westraying souls with modesty again,
Cast none away. That I shall clear myself,
ay all the weight ye can upon my patience,
Take as little doubt, as you do conscience,
doing daily wrongs. I could say more,
Bet reverence to your calling makes me modest.
Gar. My lord, my lord, you are a sectary,
Hat's the plain truth; your painted gloss discovers,
I men that understand you, words and weakness.
Crom. My lord of Winchester, you are a little,
By your good favor, too sharp; men so noble,
However faulty, yet should find respect
what they have been: 'tis a cruelty,
To load a falling man.
Good master secretary, very your honor mercy; you may, worst
Gar. Do not I know you for a favorer of this new sect: Ye are not sound. Crom.
Not sound?
Gur. Not sound, say.
Would you were half so honest!
Men's prayers then would seek you, not their fears.
Gar. I shall remember this bold language.
Crimm.
Remember your bold life too.
Cran.
This is too much; Ferbear, for shame, my lords.
And I. Chun. Then thus for you, my lord,-It stands agreed,
take it, by all voices, that forthwith
o be convey'd to the Tower a prisoner; ere to remain, till the king's further pleasure known unto us: Are you all agreed, lords! All. We are. Cran.
Is there no other way of mercy, sti must needs to the Tower, my lords? What other
Would you expect? You are strangely troublesome! et some o' the guard be ready there
In daily thanks, that gave us such a prince;
Not only good and wise, but most religious:
One that, in all obedience, makes the church
The chief aim of his honor; and, to strengthen
That holy duty, out of dear respect,
His royal self in judgment comes to hear
The cause betwixt her and this great offender!
K. Hen. You were ever good at sudden commen
dations,
Bishop of Winchester. But know, I come not
To hear such flattery now, and in my presence;
They are too thin and base to hide offences.
To me you cannot reach; you play the spaniel,
And think with wagging of your tongue to win me
But whatsoe'er thou tak'st ine for, I am sure,
Thou hast a cruel nature, and a bloody.-
Good man, [To CRANMER.] sit down. Now let me
see the proudest
He, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee:
By all's that's holy, he had better starve,
Than but once think this place becomes thee not. Sur. May it please your grace,
No, sir, it does not please me. I had thought I had had men of some understard
My most dread sovereign, 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 trial,
And fair purgation to the world, than malice,
I am sure, in me.
K. Hen. Well, well, my lords, respect him;
Take him, and use him well, he's worthy of it.
I will say thus much for him, If a prince
May be beholden to a subject, I
Am, for his love and service, so to him.
Make me no more ado, but all embrace him?
Be friends, for shame, my lords.-My lord of Can-
terbury,
I have a suit which you must not deny me;
That is, a fair young maid that yet wants baptism,
You must be godfather, and answer for her.
Cran. The greatest monarch now alive may glory
In such an honor; How may I deserve it,
That am a poor and humble subject to you
K. Hen. Come, come, my lord, you'd spar; your
spoons; you shall have'
It was an ancient custom for sponsor to present spoons to their god-children.
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