Your fcruple to the voice of Christendom:

Who can be angry now? what envy reach you?
The Spaniard, tied by blood and favour to her,
Muft now confefs, if they have any goodness,
The trial just and noble. All the clerks,

I mean, the learned ones, in christian kingdoms,
Have their free voices; Rome, the nurse of judgement,
Invited by your noble felf, hath fent

One general tongue unto us, this good man,
This juft and learned priest, cardinal Campeius;
Whom, once more, I prefent unto your highness.

K. Hen. And, once more, in mine arms I bid him wel

come,

And thank the holy conclave for their loves;

They have fent me fuch a man I would have wish'd for. Cam. Your grace must needs deserve all strangers' loves, You are so noble: To your highness' hand

I tender my commiffion; by whofe virtue,

(The court of Rome commanding,)-you, my lord Cardinal of York, are join'd with me their fervant, In the unpartial judging of this business.

K. Hen. Two equal men. The queen fhall be acquainted

Forthwith, for what you come :-Where's Gardiner ?
Wol. I know, your majesty has always lov'd her

So dear in heart, not to deny her that

A woman of less place might ask by law,

Scholars, allow'd freely to argue for her.

K. Hen, Ay, and the best, she shall have; and my favour To him that does beft; God forbid elfe. Cardinal, Pr'ythee, call Gardiner to me, my new fecretary; I find him a fit fellow.

[Exit WOLSEY.

8

Re-enter

Re-enter WOLSEY, with GARDINER.

Wol. Give me your hand : much joy and favour to you; You are the king's now.

Gard.

But to be commanded

For ever by your grace, whofe hand has rais'd me. [Afide.
K. Hen. Come hither, Gardiner. [They converse apart.
Cam. My lord of York, was not one doctor Pace
In this man's place before him?

Wol.

Cam. Was he not held a learned man?

Wol.

Yes, he was.

Yes, furely.

Cam. Believe me, there's an ill opinion spread then Even of yourself, lord cardinal.

Wol.

How! of me?

Cam. They will not stick to fay, you envy'd him; And, fearing he would rife, he was fo virtuous, Kept him a foreign man ftill

That he ran mad, and died.

which fo griev'd him,

Wol.
Heaven's peace be with him!
That's chriftian care enough: for living murmurers,
There's places of rebuke. He was a fool;

For he would needs be virtuous: That good fellow,
If I command him, follows my appointment;

I will have none so near elfe. Learn, this brother,
We live not to be grip'd by meaner perfons.

K. Hen. Deliver this with modesty to the queen.
[Exit GARDINER.

The most convenient place that I can think of,
For fuch receipt of learning, is Black-Friars;
There ye shall meet about this weighty business :-
My Wolfey, fee it furnish'd.—O my lord,
Would it not grieve an able man, to leave
D 3

So

[Exeunt.

So sweet a bedfellow? But, conscience, conscience,—

O, 'tis a tender place, and I must leave her.

SCENE III.

An Antechamber in the Queen's Apartments.

Enter ANNE BULLEN, and an old Lady.

Anne. Not for that neither;-Here's the pang that pinches :

His highness having liv'd fo long with her; and she
So good a lady, that no tongue could ever
Pronounce dishonour of her,-by my life,
She never knew harm-doing ;-O now, after
So many courses of the fun enthron'd,

Still growing in a majesty and pomp,-the which
To leave is a thousand-fold more bitter, than
'Tis sweet at firft to acquire,-after this process,
To give her the avaunt! it is a pity

She ne'er had known pomp: though it be temporal,

Yet, if that quarrel, fortune, do divorce

It from the bearer, 'tis a fufferance, panging

As foul and body's fevering.

Old L.

She's a stranger now again.

Anne.

Alas, poor lady!

So much the more

Must pity drop upon her. Verily,

I swear, 'tis better to be lowly born,
And range with humble livers in content,

Than

Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief,
And wear a golden forrow.

Old L.

Is our beft having.

Anne.

Our content

By my troth, and maidenhead,

I would not be a queen.

Old L.

Befhrew me, I would,

And venture maidenhead for't; and so would you,
For all this spice of your hypocrify:

You, that have fo fair parts of woman on you,
Have too a woman's heart; which ever yet

Affected eminence, wealth, fovereignty;

Which, to say footh, are blessings: and which gifts
(Saving your mincing) the capacity

Of your soft cheveril conscience would receive,
If you might please to stretch it.

Anne.

Nay, good troth,

Old L. Yes, troth, and troth,-You would not be a

queen?

Anne. No, not for all the riches under heaven.

Old L. 'Tis ftrange; a three-pence bow'd would hire me, Old as I am, to queen it: But, I pray you,

What think you of a duchess? have limbs

To bear that load of title?

Anne.

you

No, in truth.

Old L. Then you are weakly made: Pluck off a little; I would not be a young count in your way,

For more than blushing comes to: if your back

Cannot vouchfafe this burden, 'tis too weak

Ever to get a boy.

Anne.

How you do talk!

I fwear again, I would not be a queen

For all the world.

Old L.

In faith, for little England

D 4

You'd

You'd venture an emballing: I myself

Would for Carnarvonshire, although there 'long'd
No more to the crown but that. Lo, who comes here?

Enter the Lord Chamberlain.

Cham. Good morrow, ladies. What were't worth to know

The fecret of your conference?

Anne.
My good lord,
Not your demand; it values not your asking :
Our miftrefs' forrows we were pitying.

Cham. It was a gentle business, and becoming
The action of good women: there is hope,
All will be well.

Anne.

Now I pray God, amen!

Cham. You bear a gentle mind, and heavenly bleffings Follow fuch creatures. That you may, fair lady,

Perceive I fpeak fincerely, and high note's
Ta`en of your many virtues, the king's majesty
Commends his good opinion to you, and
Does purpose honour to you no less flowing
Than marchioness of Pembroke; to which title
A thousand pound a year, annual support,
Out of his grace he adds.

Anne.

I do not know,

What kind of my obedience I should tender;
More than my all is nothing: nor my prayers
Are not words duly hallow'd, nor my wishes
More worth than empty vanities; yet prayers, and wishes,
Are all I can return. 'Befeech your lordship,

Vouchsafe to speak my thanks, and my obedience,
As from a blushing handmaid, to his highness;
Whose health, and royalty, I pray for.

Cham.