(And service to his majesty and you,)5
So deep fufpicion, where all faith was meant.
We come not by the way of accufation,

To taint that honour every good tongue bleffes;
Nor to betray you any way to forrow;

You have too much, good lady: but to know
How you ftand minded in the weighty difference
Between the king and you; and to deliver,
Like free and honeft men, our just opinions,
And comforts to your caufe."

CAM.

Moft honour'd madam, My lord of York,-out of his noble nature, Zeal and obedience he still bore your grace; Forgetting, like a good man, your late cenfure Both of his truth and him, (which was too far,)— Offers, as I do, in a fign of peace,

His fervice and his counfel.

2. ΚΑΤΗ.

To betray me. [Afide.

My lords, I thank you both for your good wills, Ye fpeak like honest men, (pray God, ye prove fo!)

But how to make ye fuddenly an answer,

In fuch a point of weight, so near mine honour, (More near my life, I fear,) with my weak wit, And to fuch men of gravity and learning,

In truth, I know not. I was fet at work
Among my maids; full little, God knows, looking
Either for fuch men, or fuch business.

5 And fervice to his majesty and you,] This line ftands so very aukwardly, that I am inclined to think it out of its place. The author perhaps wrote, as Mr. Edwards has fuggefted:

6

"I am forry my integrity fhould breed

"So deep fufpicion, where all faith was meant,
"And fervice to his majesty and you." MALONE.

to your caufe.] Old copy-our caufe. editor of the fecond folio. MALONE.

Corrected by the

For her fake that I have been," (for I feel
The laft fit of my greatness,) good your graces,
Let me have time, and counfel, for my cause;
Alas! I am a woman, friendless, hopeless.

WOL. Madam, you wrong the king's love with
these fears;

Your hopes and friends are infinite.

2. KATH.
In England,
But little for my profit: Can you think, lords,
That any Englishman dare give me counfel?
Or be a known friend, 'gainst his highnefs' pleafure,
(Though he be grown fo defperate to be honeft,)3
And live a fubject? Nay, forfooth, my friends,
They that muft weigh out my afflictions,"
They that
my truft must grow to, live not here;
They are, as all my other comforts, far hence,
In mine own country, lords.

CAM.

I would, your grace

Would leave your griefs, and take my counsel. 2. KATH.

How, fir?

CAM. Put your main caufe into the king's pro

tection;

He's loving, and moft gracious: 'twill be much
Both for your honour better, and your caufe;

For her fake that I have been, &c.] For the fake of that royalty which I have heretofore poffeffed. MALONE.

8 (Though he be grown fo defperate to be honeft,)] Do you think that any Englishman dare advise me; or, if any man should venture to advife with honefty, that he could live? JOHNSON.

9 weigh out my afflictions,] This phrafe is obfcure. To weigh out, is, in modern language, to deliver by weight; but this fenfe cannot be here admitted. To weigh is likewife to deliberate upon, to confider with due attention. This may, perhaps, be meant. Or the phrafe, to weigh out, may fignify to counterbalance, to counteract with equal force. JOHNSON.

To weigh out is the fame as to outweigh. In Macbeth, Shakfpeare has overcome for come oper. STEEVENS.

For, if the trial of the law o'ertake you,
You'll part away disgrac'd.

WOL.

He tells you rightly.

2. KATH. Ye tell me what ye wish for both, my

ruin :

Is this your chriftian counfel? out upon ye!
Heaven is above all yet; there fits a judge,
That no king can corrupt.

Сам.

Your rage mistakes us

2. KATH. The more shame for ye;2 holy men I thought ye,

Upon my foul, two reverend cardinal virtues;
But cardinal fins, and hollow hearts, I fear ye:
Mend them for fhame, my lords. Is this your
comfort?

The cordial that ye bring a wretched lady?
A woman loft among ye, laugh'd at, fcorn'd?
I will not wifh ye half my miferies,

I have more charity: But fay, I warn'd ye;
Take heed, for heaven's fake, take heed, left at once
The burden of my forrows fall upon ye.

WOL. Madam, this is a mere distraction;

You turn the good we offer into envy.

2. KATH. Ye turn me into nothing: Woe upon ye, And all fuch falfe profeffors! Would ye have me (If you you have any justice, any pity;

If ye be any thing but churchmen's habits,)
Put my fick caufe into his hands that hates me?
Alas! he has banish'd me his bed already;
His love, too long ago: I am old, my lords,
And all the fellowship I hold now with him

The more fhame for ye;] If I mistake you, it is by your fault, not mine; for I thought you good. The diftrefs of Katharine might have kept her from the quibble to which she is irresistibly tempted by the word cardinal. JOHNSON.

Is only my obedience. What can happen

To me, above this wretchedness? all your studies

Make me a curfe like this.

CAM.

Your fears are worse.

2. KATH. Have I liv'd thus long-(let me speak

myself,

Since virtue finds no friends,)-a wife, a true one?
A woman (I dare fay, without vain-glory,)
Never yet branded with fufpicion?

Have I with all my full affections

Still met the king? lov'd him next heaven? obey'd
him?

Been, out of fondnefs, fuperftitious to him?3
Almoft forgot my prayers to content him?
And am I thus rewarded? 'tis not well, lords.
Bring me a conftant woman to her husband,
One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure;
And to that woman, when she has done most,
Yet will I add an honour,—a great patience.

WOL. Madam, you wander from the good we
aim at.

2. KATH. My lord, I dare not make myself fo guilty,

To give up willingly that noble title

Your mafter wed me to: nothing but death
Shall e'er divorce my dignities.

WOL.

'Pray, hear me.

Q. KATH. 'Would I had never trod this English earth,

Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it!

3 -fuperftitious to him?] That is, ferved him with fuperstitious attention; done more than was required. JOHNSON,

Ye have angels' faces, but heaven knows your

hearts.

What will become of me now, wretched lady?
I am the most unhappy woman living.-
Alas! poor wenches, where are now your fortunes?
[To her women.
Shipwreck'd upon a kingdom, where no pity,
No friends, no hope; no kindred weep for me,
Almoft, no grave allow'd me :-Like the lily,
That once was mistress of the field,' and flourish'd,
I'll hang my head, and perish.

WOL.
If your grace
Could but be brought to know, our ends are honest,

4 Te have angels' faces,] She may perhaps allude to the old jingle of Angli and Angeli. JOHNSON.

I find this jingle in The Arraygnment of Paris, 1584. The goddeffes refer the difpute about the golden apple to the decifion of Diana, who fetting afide their refpective claims, awards it to Queen Elizabeth; and adds:

"Her people are ycleped angeli,

"Or if I miss a letter, is the most."

In this pastoral, as it is called, the queen herself may be almost faid to have been a performer, for at the conclufion of it, Diana gives the golden apple into her hands, and the Fates depofit their infignia at her feet. It was prefented before her Majesty by the children of her chapel.

66

It appears from the following paffage in The Spanish Masquerado, by Greene, 1585, that this quibble was originally the quibble of a faint: England, a little ifland, where, as faint Auguftin faith, there be people with angel faces, fo the inhabitants have the courage and hearts of lyons." STEEVENS.

See alfo Nafhe's Anatomic of Abfurditie, 1589: "For my part I meane to fufpend my fentence, and let an author of late memorie be my fpeaker; who affirmeth that they carry angels in their faces, and devils in their devices." MALONE.

That once was mistress of the field,] So, in Spenfer's Fairy Queen, Book II. c. vi. ft. 16:

"The lily, lady of the flow'ring field." HOLT WHITE.