Prologue

• Chorus. I come no more to make you laugh: things now,
  That bear a weighty and a serious brow,
  Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe,
  Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow,
  We now present. Those that can pity, here 5
  May, if they think it well, let fall a tear;
  The subject will deserve it. Such as give
  Their money out of hope they may believe,
  May here find truth too. Those that come to see
  Only a show or two, and so agree 10
  The play may pass, if they be still and willing,
  I'll undertake may see away their shilling
  Richly in two short hours. Only they
  That come to hear a merry bawdy play,
  A noise of targets, or to see a fellow 15
  In a long motley coat guarded with yellow,
  Will be deceived; for, gentle hearers, know,
  To rank our chosen truth with such a show
  As fool and fight is, beside forfeiting
  Our own brains, and the opinion that we bring, 20
  To make that only true we now intend,
  Will leave us never an understanding friend.
  Therefore, for goodness' sake, and as you are known
  The first and happiest hearers of the town,
  Be sad, as we would make ye: think ye see 25
  The very persons of our noble story
  As they were living; think you see them great,
  And follow'd with the general throng and sweat
  Of thousand friends; then in a moment, see
  How soon this mightiness meets misery: 30
  And, if you can be merry then, I'll say
  A man may weep upon his wedding-day.

Act I, Scene 1

London. An ante-chamber in the palace.

[Enter NORFOLK at one door; at the other, BUCKINGHAM] [p]and ABERGAVENNY]

• Duke of Buckingham. Good morrow, and well met. How have ye done 35
  Since last we saw in France?

• Duke of Norfolk. I thank your grace,
  Healthful; and ever since a fresh admirer
  Of what I saw there.

• Duke of Buckingham. An untimely ague 40
  Stay'd me a prisoner in my chamber when
  Those suns of glory, those two lights of men,
  Met in the vale of Andren.

• Duke of Norfolk. 'Twixt Guynes and Arde:
  I was then present, saw them salute on horseback; 45
  Beheld them, when they lighted, how they clung
  In their embracement, as they grew together;
  Which had they, what four throned ones could have weigh'd
  Such a compounded one?

• Duke of Buckingham. All the whole time 50
  I was my chamber's prisoner.

• Duke of Norfolk. Then you lost
  The view of earthly glory: men might say,
  Till this time pomp was single, but now married
  To one above itself. Each following day 55
  Became the next day's master, till the last
  Made former wonders its. To-day the French,
  All clinquant, all in gold, like heathen gods,
  Shone down the English; and, to-morrow, they
  Made Britain India: every man that stood 60
  Show'd like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were
  As cherubins, all guilt: the madams too,
  Not used to toil, did almost sweat to bear
  The pride upon them, that their very labour
  Was to them as a painting: now this masque 65
  Was cried incomparable; and the ensuing night
  Made it a fool and beggar. The two kings,
  Equal in lustre, were now best, now worst,
  As presence did present them; him in eye,
  Still him in praise: and, being present both 70
  'Twas said they saw but one; and no discerner
  Durst wag his tongue in censure. When these suns—
  For so they phrase 'em—by their heralds challenged
  The noble spirits to arms, they did perform
  Beyond thought's compass; that former fabulous story, 75
  Being now seen possible enough, got credit,
  That Bevis was believed.

• Duke of Buckingham. O, you go far.

• Duke of Norfolk. As I belong to worship and affect
  In honour honesty, the tract of every thing 80
  Would by a good discourser lose some life,
  Which action's self was tongue to. All was royal;
  To the disposing of it nought rebell'd.
  Order gave each thing view; the office did
  Distinctly his full function. 85

• Duke of Buckingham. Who did guide,
  I mean, who set the body and the limbs
  Of this great sport together, as you guess?

• Duke of Norfolk. One, certes, that promises no element
  In such a business. 90

• Duke of Buckingham. I pray you, who, my lord?

• Duke of Norfolk. All this was order'd by the good discretion
  Of the right reverend Cardinal of York.

• Duke of Buckingham. The devil speed him! no man's pie is freed
  From his ambitious finger. What had he 95
  To do in these fierce vanities? I wonder
  That such a keech can with his very bulk
  Take up the rays o' the beneficial sun
  And keep it from the earth.

• Duke of Norfolk. Surely, sir, 100
  There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends;
  For, being not propp'd by ancestry, whose grace
  Chalks successors their way, nor call'd upon
  For high feats done to the crown; neither allied
  For eminent assistants; but, spider-like, 105
  Out of his self-drawing web, he gives us note,
  The force of his own merit makes his way
  A gift that heaven gives for him, which buys
  A place next to the king.

• Lord Abergavenny. I cannot tell 110
  What heaven hath given him,—let some graver eye
  Pierce into that; but I can see his pride
  Peep through each part of him: whence has he that,
  If not from hell? the devil is a niggard,
  Or has given all before, and he begins 115
  A new hell in himself.

• Duke of Buckingham. Why the devil,
  Upon this French going out, took he upon him,
  Without the privity o' the king, to appoint
  Who should attend on him? He makes up the file 120
  Of all the gentry; for the most part such
  To whom as great a charge as little honour
  He meant to lay upon: and his own letter,
  The honourable board of council out,
  Must fetch him in the papers. 125

• Lord Abergavenny. I do know
  Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that have
  By this so sickened their estates, that never
  They shall abound as formerly.

• Duke of Buckingham. O, many 130
  Have broke their backs with laying manors on 'em
  For this great journey. What did this vanity
  But minister communication of
  A most poor issue?

• Duke of Norfolk. Grievingly I think, 135
  The peace between the French and us not values
  The cost that did conclude it.

• Duke of Buckingham. Every man,
  After the hideous storm that follow'd, was
  A thing inspired; and, not consulting, broke 140
  Into a general prophecy; That this tempest,
  Dashing the garment of this peace, aboded
  The sudden breach on't.

• Duke of Norfolk. Which is budded out;
  For France hath flaw'd the league, and hath attach'd 145
  Our merchants' goods at Bourdeaux.

• Lord Abergavenny. Is it therefore
  The ambassador is silenced?

• Duke of Norfolk. Marry, is't.

• Lord Abergavenny. A proper title of a peace; and purchased 150
  At a superfluous rate!

• Duke of Buckingham. Why, all this business
  Our reverend cardinal carried.

• Duke of Norfolk. Like it your grace,
  The state takes notice of the private difference 155
  Betwixt you and the cardinal. I advise you—
  And take it from a heart that wishes towards you
  Honour and plenteous safety—that you read
  The cardinal's malice and his potency
  Together; to consider further that 160
  What his high hatred would effect wants not
  A minister in his power. You know his nature,
  That he's revengeful, and I know his sword
  Hath a sharp edge: it's long and, 't may be said,
  It reaches far, and where 'twill not extend, 165
  Thither he darts it. Bosom up my counsel,
  You'll find it wholesome. Lo, where comes that rock
  That I advise your shunning.
  [Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, the purse borne before him,]
  certain of the Guard, and two Secretaries with 170
  papers. CARDINAL WOLSEY in his passage fixeth his
  eye on BUCKINGHAM, and BUCKINGHAM on him, both full
  of disdain]

• Cardinal Wolsey. The Duke of Buckingham's surveyor, ha?
  Where's his examination? 175

• First Secretary. Here, so please you.

• Cardinal Wolsey. Is he in person ready?

• First Secretary. Ay, please your grace.

• Cardinal Wolsey. Well, we shall then know more; and Buckingham
  Shall lessen this big look. 180

[Exeunt CARDINAL WOLSEY and his Train]

• Duke of Buckingham. This butcher's cur is venom-mouth'd, and I
  Have not the power to muzzle him; therefore best
  Not wake him in his slumber. A beggar's book
  Outworths a noble's blood. 185

• Duke of Norfolk. What, are you chafed?
  Ask God for temperance; that's the appliance only
  Which your disease requires.

• Duke of Buckingham. I read in's looks
  Matter against me; and his eye reviled 190
  Me, as his abject object: at this instant
  He bores me with some trick: he's gone to the king;
  I'll follow and outstare him.

• Duke of Norfolk. Stay, my lord,
  And let your reason with your choler question 195
  What 'tis you go about: to climb steep hills
  Requires slow pace at first: anger is like
  A full-hot horse, who being allow'd his way,
  Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England
  Can advise me like you: be to yourself 200
  As you would to your friend.

• Duke of Buckingham. I'll to the king;
  And from a mouth of honour quite cry down
  This Ipswich fellow's insolence; or proclaim
  There's difference in no persons. 205

• Duke of Norfolk. Be advised;
  Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot
  That it do singe yourself: we may outrun,
  By violent swiftness, that which we run at,
  And lose by over-running. Know you not, 210
  The fire that mounts the liquor til run o'er,
  In seeming to augment it wastes it? Be advised:
  I say again, there is no English soul
  More stronger to direct you than yourself,
  If with the sap of reason you would quench, 215
  Or but allay, the fire of passion.

• Duke of Buckingham. Sir,
  I am thankful to you; and I'll go along
  By your prescription: but this top-proud fellow,
  Whom from the flow of gall I name not but 220
  From sincere motions, by intelligence,
  And proofs as clear as founts in July when
  We see each grain of gravel, I do know
  To be corrupt and treasonous.

• Duke of Norfolk. Say not 'treasonous.' 225

• Duke of Buckingham. To the king I'll say't; and make my vouch as strong
  As shore of rock. Attend. This holy fox,
  Or wolf, or both,—for he is equal ravenous
  As he is subtle, and as prone to mischief
  As able to perform't; his mind and place 230
  Infecting one another, yea, reciprocally—
  Only to show his pomp as well in France
  As here at home, suggests the king our master
  To this last costly treaty, the interview,
  That swallow'd so much treasure, and like a glass 235
  Did break i' the rinsing.

• Duke of Norfolk. Faith, and so it did.

• Duke of Buckingham. Pray, give me favour, sir. This cunning cardinal
  The articles o' the combination drew
  As himself pleased; and they were ratified 240
  As he cried 'Thus let be': to as much end
  As give a crutch to the dead: but our count-cardinal
  Has done this, and 'tis well; for worthy Wolsey,
  Who cannot err, he did it. Now this follows,—
  Which, as I take it, is a kind of puppy 245
  To the old dam, treason,—Charles the emperor,
  Under pretence to see the queen his aunt—
  For 'twas indeed his colour, but he came
  To whisper Wolsey,—here makes visitation:
  His fears were, that the interview betwixt 250
  England and France might, through their amity,
  Breed him some prejudice; for from this league
  Peep'd harms that menaced him: he privily
  Deals with our cardinal; and, as I trow,—
  Which I do well; for I am sure the emperor 255
  Paid ere he promised; whereby his suit was granted
  Ere it was ask'd; but when the way was made,
  And paved with gold, the emperor thus desired,
  That he would please to alter the king's course,
  And break the foresaid peace. Let the king know, 260
  As soon he shall by me, that thus the cardinal
  Does buy and sell his honour as he pleases,
  And for his own advantage.

• Duke of Norfolk. I am sorry
  To hear this of him; and could wish he were 265
  Something mistaken in't.

• Duke of Buckingham. No, not a syllable:
  I do pronounce him in that very shape
  He shall appear in proof.
  [Enter BRANDON, a Sergeant-at-arms before him, and] 270
  two or three of the Guard]

• Brandon. Your office, sergeant; execute it.

• Sergeant. Sir,
  My lord the Duke of Buckingham, and Earl
  Of Hereford, Stafford, and Northampton, I 275
  Arrest thee of high treason, in the name
  Of our most sovereign king.

• Duke of Buckingham. Lo, you, my lord,
  The net has fall'n upon me! I shall perish
  Under device and practise. 280

• Brandon. I am sorry
  To see you ta'en from liberty, to look on
  The business present: 'tis his highness' pleasure
  You shall to the Tower.

• Duke of Buckingham. It will help me nothing 285
  To plead mine innocence; for that dye is on me
  Which makes my whitest part black. The will of heaven
  Be done in this and all things! I obey.
  O my Lord Abergavenny, fare you well!

• Brandon. Nay, he must bear you company. The king 290
  [To ABERGAVENNY]
  Is pleased you shall to the Tower, till you know
  How he determines further.

• Lord Abergavenny. As the duke said,
  The will of heaven be done, and the king's pleasure 295
  By me obey'd!

• Brandon. Here is a warrant from
  The king to attach Lord Montacute; and the bodies
  Of the duke's confessor, John de la Car,
  One Gilbert Peck, his chancellor— 300

• Duke of Buckingham. So, so;
  These are the limbs o' the plot: no more, I hope.

• Brandon. A monk o' the Chartreux.

• Duke of Buckingham. O, Nicholas Hopkins?

• Brandon. He. 305

• Duke of Buckingham. My surveyor is false; the o'er-great cardinal
  Hath show'd him gold; my life is spann'd already:
  I am the shadow of poor Buckingham,
  Whose figure even this instant cloud puts on,
  By darkening my clear sun. My lord, farewell. 310

[Exeunt]

Act I, Scene 2

The same. The council-chamber.

[Cornets. Enter KING HENRY VIII, leaning on] [p]CARDINAL WOLSEY's shoulder, the Nobles, and LOVELL; [p]CARDINAL WOLSEY places himself under KING HENRY [p]VIII's feet on his right side]

• Henry VIII. My life itself, and the best heart of it,
  Thanks you for this great care: I stood i' the level
  Of a full-charged confederacy, and give thanks
  To you that choked it. Let be call'd before us
  That gentleman of Buckingham's; in person 320
  I'll hear him his confessions justify;
  And point by point the treasons of his master
  He shall again relate.
  [A noise within, crying 'Room for the Queen!' Enter]
  QUEEN KATHARINE, ushered by NORFOLK, and SUFFOLK: 325
  she kneels. KING HENRY VIII riseth from his state,
  takes her up, kisses and placeth her by him]

• Queen Katharine. Nay, we must longer kneel: I am a suitor.

• Henry VIII. Arise, and take place by us: half your suit
  Never name to us; you have half our power: 330
  The other moiety, ere you ask, is given;
  Repeat your will and take it.

• Queen Katharine. Thank your majesty.
  That you would love yourself, and in that love
  Not unconsider'd leave your honour, nor 335
  The dignity of your office, is the point
  Of my petition.

• Henry VIII. Lady mine, proceed.

• Queen Katharine. I am solicited, not by a few,
  And those of true condition, that your subjects 340
  Are in great grievance: there have been commissions
  Sent down among 'em, which hath flaw'd the heart
  Of all their loyalties: wherein, although,
  My good lord cardinal, they vent reproaches
  Most bitterly on you, as putter on 345
  Of these exactions, yet the king our master—
  Whose honour heaven shield from soil!—even he
  escapes not
  Language unmannerly, yea, such which breaks
  The sides of loyalty, and almost appears 350
  In loud rebellion.

• Duke of Norfolk. Not almost appears,
  It doth appear; for, upon these taxations,
  The clothiers all, not able to maintain
  The many to them longing, have put off 355
  The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers, who,
  Unfit for other life, compell'd by hunger
  And lack of other means, in desperate manner
  Daring the event to the teeth, are all in uproar,
  And danger serves among then! 360

• Henry VIII. Taxation!
  Wherein? and what taxation? My lord cardinal,
  You that are blamed for it alike with us,
  Know you of this taxation?

• Cardinal Wolsey. Please you, sir, 365
  I know but of a single part, in aught
  Pertains to the state; and front but in that file
  Where others tell steps with me.

• Queen Katharine. No, my lord,
  You know no more than others; but you frame 370
  Things that are known alike; which are not wholesome
  To those which would not know them, and yet must
  Perforce be their acquaintance. These exactions,
  Whereof my sovereign would have note, they are
  Most pestilent to the bearing; and, to bear 'em, 375
  The back is sacrifice to the load. They say
  They are devised by you; or else you suffer
  Too hard an exclamation.

• Henry VIII. Still exaction!
  The nature of it? in what kind, let's know, 380
  Is this exaction?

• Queen Katharine. I am much too venturous
  In tempting of your patience; but am bolden'd
  Under your promised pardon. The subjects' grief
  Comes through commissions, which compel from each 385
  The sixth part of his substance, to be levied
  Without delay; and the pretence for this
  Is named, your wars in France: this makes bold mouths:
  Tongues spit their duties out, and cold hearts freeze
  Allegiance in them; their curses now 390
  Live where their prayers did: and it's come to pass,
  This tractable obedience is a slave
  To each incensed will. I would your highness
  Would give it quick consideration, for
  There is no primer business. 395

• Henry VIII. By my life,
  This is against our pleasure.

• Cardinal Wolsey. And for me,
  I have no further gone in this than by
  A single voice; and that not pass'd me but 400
  By learned approbation of the judges. If I am
  Traduced by ignorant tongues, which neither know
  My faculties nor person, yet will be
  The chronicles of my doing, let me say
  'Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brake 405
  That virtue must go through. We must not stint
  Our necessary actions, in the fear
  To cope malicious censurers; which ever,
  As ravenous fishes, do a vessel follow
  That is new-trimm'd, but benefit no further 410
  Than vainly longing. What we oft do best,
  By sick interpreters, once weak ones, is
  Not ours, or not allow'd; what worst, as oft,
  Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up
  For our best act. If we shall stand still, 415
  In fear our motion will be mock'd or carp'd at,
  We should take root here where we sit, or sit
  State-statues only.

• Henry VIII. Things done well,
  And with a care, exempt themselves from fear; 420
  Things done without example, in their issue
  Are to be fear'd. Have you a precedent
  Of this commission? I believe, not any.
  We must not rend our subjects from our laws,
  And stick them in our will. Sixth part of each? 425
  A trembling contribution! Why, we take
  From every tree lop, bark, and part o' the timber;
  And, though we leave it with a root, thus hack'd,
  The air will drink the sap. To every county
  Where this is question'd send our letters, with 430
  Free pardon to each man that has denied
  The force of this commission: pray, look to't;
  I put it to your care.

• Cardinal Wolsey. A word with you.
  [To the Secretary] 435
  Let there be letters writ to every shire,
  Of the king's grace and pardon. The grieved commons
  Hardly conceive of me; let it be noised
  That through our intercession this revokement
  And pardon comes: I shall anon advise you 440
  Further in the proceeding.

[Exit Secretary]

[Enter Surveyor]

• Queen Katharine. I am sorry that the Duke of Buckingham
  Is run in your displeasure. 445

• Henry VIII. It grieves many:
  The gentleman is learn'd, and a most rare speaker;
  To nature none more bound; his training such,
  That he may furnish and instruct great teachers,
  And never seek for aid out of himself. Yet see, 450
  When these so noble benefits shall prove
  Not well disposed, the mind growing once corrupt,
  They turn to vicious forms, ten times more ugly
  Than ever they were fair. This man so complete,
  Who was enroll'd 'mongst wonders, and when we, 455
  Almost with ravish'd listening, could not find
  His hour of speech a minute; he, my lady,
  Hath into monstrous habits put the graces
  That once were his, and is become as black
  As if besmear'd in hell. Sit by us; you shall hear— 460
  This was his gentleman in trust—of him
  Things to strike honour sad. Bid him recount
  The fore-recited practises; whereof
  We cannot feel too little, hear too much.

• Cardinal Wolsey. Stand forth, and with bold spirit relate what you, 465
  Most like a careful subject, have collected
  Out of the Duke of Buckingham.

• Henry VIII. Speak freely.

• Surveyor. First, it was usual with him, every day
  It would infect his speech, that if the king 470
  Should without issue die, he'll carry it so
  To make the sceptre his: these very words
  I've heard him utter to his son-in-law,
  Lord Abergavenny; to whom by oath he menaced
  Revenge upon the cardinal. 475

• Cardinal Wolsey. Please your highness, note
  This dangerous conception in this point.
  Not friended by by his wish, to your high person
  His will is most malignant; and it stretches
  Beyond you, to your friends. 480

• Queen Katharine. My learn'd lord cardinal,
  Deliver all with charity.

• Henry VIII. Speak on:
  How grounded he his title to the crown,
  Upon our fail? to this point hast thou heard him 485
  At any time speak aught?

• Surveyor. He was brought to this
  By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Hopkins.

• Henry VIII. What was that Hopkins?

• Surveyor. Sir, a Chartreux friar, 490
  His confessor, who fed him every minute
  With words of sovereignty.

• Henry VIII. How know'st thou this?

• Surveyor. Not long before your highness sped to France,
  The duke being at the Rose, within the parish 495
  Saint Lawrence Poultney, did of me demand
  What was the speech among the Londoners
  Concerning the French journey: I replied,
  Men fear'd the French would prove perfidious,
  To the king's danger. Presently the duke 500
  Said, 'twas the fear, indeed; and that he doubted
  'Twould prove the verity of certain words
  Spoke by a holy monk; 'that oft,' says he,
  'Hath sent to me, wishing me to permit
  John de la Car, my chaplain, a choice hour 505
  To hear from him a matter of some moment:
  Whom after under the confession's seal
  He solemnly had sworn, that what he spoke
  My chaplain to no creature living, but
  To me, should utter, with demure confidence 510
  This pausingly ensued: neither the king nor's heirs,
  Tell you the duke, shall prosper: bid him strive
  To gain the love o' the commonalty: the duke
  Shall govern England.'

• Queen Katharine. If I know you well, 515
  You were the duke's surveyor, and lost your office
  On the complaint o' the tenants: take good heed
  You charge not in your spleen a noble person
  And spoil your nobler soul: I say, take heed;
  Yes, heartily beseech you. 520

• Henry VIII. Let him on.
  Go forward.

• Surveyor. On my soul, I'll speak but truth.
  I told my lord the duke, by the devil's illusions
  The monk might be deceived; and that 'twas dangerous for him 525
  To ruminate on this so far, until
  It forged him some design, which, being believed,
  It was much like to do: he answer'd, 'Tush,
  It can do me no damage;' adding further,
  That, had the king in his last sickness fail'd, 530
  The cardinal's and Sir Thomas Lovell's heads
  Should have gone off.

• Henry VIII. Ha! what, so rank? Ah ha!
  There's mischief in this man: canst thou say further?

• Surveyor. I can, my liege. 535

• Henry VIII. Proceed.

• Surveyor. Being at Greenwich,
  After your highness had reproved the duke
  About Sir William Blomer,—

• Henry VIII. I remember 540
  Of such a time: being my sworn servant,
  The duke retain'd him his. But on; what hence?

• Surveyor. 'If,' quoth he, 'I for this had been committed,
  As, to the Tower, I thought, I would have play'd
  The part my father meant to act upon 545
  The usurper Richard; who, being at Salisbury,
  Made suit to come in's presence; which if granted,
  As he made semblance of his duty, would
  Have put his knife to him.'

• Henry VIII. A giant traitor! 550

• Cardinal Wolsey. Now, madam, may his highness live in freedom,
  and this man out of prison?

• Queen Katharine. God mend all!

• Henry VIII. There's something more would out of thee; what say'st?

• Surveyor. After 'the duke his father,' with 'the knife,' 555
  He stretch'd him, and, with one hand on his dagger,
  Another spread on's breast, mounting his eyes
  He did discharge a horrible oath; whose tenor
  Was,—were he evil used, he would outgo
  His father by as much as a performance 560
  Does an irresolute purpose.

• Henry VIII. There's his period,
  To sheathe his knife in us. He is attach'd;
  Call him to present trial: if he may
  Find mercy in the law, 'tis his: if none, 565
  Let him not seek 't of us: by day and night,
  He's traitor to the height.

[Exeunt]

Act I, Scene 3

An ante-chamber in the palace.

[Enter Chamberlain and SANDS]

• Lord Chamberlain. Is't possible the spells of France should juggle 570
  Men into such strange mysteries?

• Lord Sands. New customs,
  Though they be never so ridiculous,
  Nay, let 'em be unmanly, yet are follow'd.

• Lord Chamberlain. As far as I see, all the good our English 575
  Have got by the late voyage is but merely
  A fit or two o' the face; but they are shrewd ones;
  For when they hold 'em, you would swear directly
  Their very noses had been counsellors
  To Pepin or Clotharius, they keep state so. 580

• Lord Sands. They have all new legs, and lame ones: one would take it,
  That never saw 'em pace before, the spavin
  Or springhalt reign'd among 'em.

• Lord Chamberlain. Death! my lord,
  Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too, 585
  That, sure, they've worn out Christendom.
  [Enter LOVELL]
  How now!
  What news, Sir Thomas Lovell?

• Sir Thomas Lovell. Faith, my lord, 590
  I hear of none, but the new proclamation
  That's clapp'd upon the court-gate.

• Lord Chamberlain. What is't for?

• Sir Thomas Lovell. The reformation of our travell'd gallants,
  That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors. 595

• Lord Chamberlain. I'm glad 'tis there: now I would pray our monsieurs
  To think an English courtier may be wise,
  And never see the Louvre.

• Sir Thomas Lovell. They must either,
  For so run the conditions, leave those remnants 600
  Of fool and feather that they got in France,
  With all their honourable point of ignorance
  Pertaining thereunto, as fights and fireworks,
  Abusing better men than they can be,
  Out of a foreign wisdom, renouncing clean 605
  The faith they have in tennis, and tall stockings,
  Short blister'd breeches, and those types of travel,
  And understand again like honest men;
  Or pack to their old playfellows: there, I take it,
  They may, 'cum privilegio,' wear away 610
  The lag end of their lewdness and be laugh'd at.

• Lord Sands. 'Tis time to give 'em physic, their diseases
  Are grown so catching.

• Lord Chamberlain. What a loss our ladies
  Will have of these trim vanities! 615

• Sir Thomas Lovell. Ay, marry,
  There will be woe indeed, lords: the sly whoresons
  Have got a speeding trick to lay down ladies;
  A French song and a fiddle has no fellow.

• Lord Sands. The devil fiddle 'em! I am glad they are going, 620
  For, sure, there's no converting of 'em: now
  An honest country lord, as I am, beaten
  A long time out of play, may bring his plainsong
  And have an hour of hearing; and, by'r lady,
  Held current music too. 625

• Lord Chamberlain. Well said, Lord Sands;
  Your colt's tooth is not cast yet.

• Lord Sands. No, my lord;
  Nor shall not, while I have a stump.

• Lord Chamberlain. Sir Thomas, 630
  Whither were you a-going?

• Sir Thomas Lovell. To the cardinal's:
  Your lordship is a guest too.

• Lord Chamberlain. O, 'tis true:
  This night he makes a supper, and a great one, 635
  To many lords and ladies; there will be
  The beauty of this kingdom, I'll assure you.

• Sir Thomas Lovell. That churchman bears a bounteous mind indeed,
  A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us;
  His dews fall every where. 640

• Lord Chamberlain. No doubt he's noble;
  He had a black mouth that said other of him.

• Lord Sands. He may, my lord; has wherewithal: in him
  Sparing would show a worse sin than ill doctrine:
  Men of his way should be most liberal; 645
  They are set here for examples.

• Lord Chamberlain. True, they are so:
  But few now give so great ones. My barge stays;
  Your lordship shall along. Come, good Sir Thomas,
  We shall be late else; which I would not be, 650
  For I was spoke to, with Sir Henry Guildford
  This night to be comptrollers.

• Lord Sands. I am your lordship's.

[Exeunt]

Act I, Scene 4

A Hall in York Place.

[Hautboys. A small table under a state for CARDINAL] [p]WOLSEY, a longer table for the guests. Then enter [p]ANNE and divers other Ladies and Gentlemen as [p]guests, at one door; at another door, enter GUILDFORD]

• Sir Henry Guildford. Ladies, a general welcome from his grace
  Salutes ye all; this night he dedicates 660
  To fair content and you: none here, he hopes,
  In all this noble bevy, has brought with her
  One care abroad; he would have all as merry
  As, first, good company, good wine, good welcome,
  Can make good people. O, my lord, you're tardy: 665
  [Enter Chamberlain, SANDS, and LOVELL]
  The very thought of this fair company
  Clapp'd wings to me.

• Lord Chamberlain. You are young, Sir Harry Guildford.

• Lord Sands. Sir Thomas Lovell, had the cardinal 670
  But half my lay thoughts in him, some of these
  Should find a running banquet ere they rested,
  I think would better please 'em: by my life,
  They are a sweet society of fair ones.

• Sir Thomas Lovell. O, that your lordship were but now confessor 675
  To one or two of these!

• Lord Sands. I would I were;
  They should find easy penance.

• Sir Thomas Lovell. Faith, how easy?

• Lord Sands. As easy as a down-bed would afford it. 680

• Lord Chamberlain. Sweet ladies, will it please you sit? Sir Harry,
  Place you that side; I'll take the charge of this:
  His grace is entering. Nay, you must not freeze;
  Two women placed together makes cold weather:
  My Lord Sands, you are one will keep 'em waking; 685
  Pray, sit between these ladies.

• Lord Sands. By my faith,
  And thank your lordship. By your leave, sweet ladies:
  If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me;
  I had it from my father. 690

• Anne Bullen. Was he mad, sir?

• Lord Sands. O, very mad, exceeding mad, in love too:
  But he would bite none; just as I do now,
  He would kiss you twenty with a breath.

[Kisses her]

• Lord Chamberlain. Well said, my lord.
  So, now you're fairly seated. Gentlemen,
  The penance lies on you, if these fair ladies
  Pass away frowning.

• Lord Sands. For my little cure, 700
  Let me alone.

[Hautboys. Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, and takes his state]

• Cardinal Wolsey. You're welcome, my fair guests: that noble lady,
  Or gentleman, that is not freely merry,
  Is not my friend: this, to confirm my welcome; 705
  And to you all, good health.

[Drinks]

• Lord Sands. Your grace is noble:
  Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks,
  And save me so much talking. 710

• Cardinal Wolsey. My Lord Sands,
  I am beholding to you: cheer your neighbours.
  Ladies, you are not merry: gentlemen,
  Whose fault is this?

• Lord Sands. The red wine first must rise 715
  In their fair cheeks, my lord; then we shall have 'em
  Talk us to silence.

• Anne Bullen. You are a merry gamester,
  My Lord Sands.

• Lord Sands. Yes, if I make my play. 720
  Here's to your ladyship: and pledge it, madam,
  For 'tis to such a thing,—

• Anne Bullen. You cannot show me.

• Lord Sands. I told your grace they would talk anon.

[Drum and trumpet, chambers discharged]

• Cardinal Wolsey. What's that?

• Lord Chamberlain. Look out there, some of ye.

[Exit Servant]

• Cardinal Wolsey. What warlike voice,
  And to what end is this? Nay, ladies, fear not; 730
  By all the laws of war you're privileged.

[Re-enter Servant]

• Lord Chamberlain. How now! what is't?

• Servant. A noble troop of strangers;
  For so they seem: they've left their barge and landed; 735
  And hither make, as great ambassadors
  From foreign princes.

• Cardinal Wolsey. Good lord chamberlain,
  Go, give 'em welcome; you can speak the French tongue;
  And, pray, receive 'em nobly, and conduct 'em 740
  Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty
  Shall shine at full upon them. Some attend him.
  [Exit Chamberlain, attended. All rise, and tables removed]
  You have now a broken banquet; but we'll mend it.
  A good digestion to you all: and once more 745
  I shower a welcome on ye; welcome all.
  [Hautboys. Enter KING HENRY VIII and others, as]
  masquers, habited like shepherds, ushered by the
  Chamberlain. They pass directly before CARDINAL
  WOLSEY, and gracefully salute him] 750
  A noble company! what are their pleasures?

• Lord Chamberlain. Because they speak no English, thus they pray'd
  To tell your grace, that, having heard by fame
  Of this so noble and so fair assembly
  This night to meet here, they could do no less 755
  Out of the great respect they bear to beauty,
  But leave their flocks; and, under your fair conduct,
  Crave leave to view these ladies and entreat
  An hour of revels with 'em.

• Cardinal Wolsey. Say, lord chamberlain, 760
  They have done my poor house grace; for which I pay 'em
  A thousand thanks, and pray 'em take their pleasures.
  [They choose Ladies for the dance. KING HENRY VIII]
  chooses ANNE]

• Henry VIII. The fairest hand I ever touch'd! O beauty, 765
  Till now I never knew thee!

[Music. Dance]

• Cardinal Wolsey. My lord!

• Lord Chamberlain. Your grace?

• Cardinal Wolsey. Pray, tell 'em thus much from me: 770
  There should be one amongst 'em, by his person,
  More worthy this place than myself; to whom,
  If I but knew him, with my love and duty
  I would surrender it.

• Lord Chamberlain. I will, my lord. 775

[Whispers the Masquers]

• Cardinal Wolsey. What say they?

• Lord Chamberlain. Such a one, they all confess,
  There is indeed; which they would have your grace
  Find out, and he will take it. 780

• Cardinal Wolsey. Let me see, then.
  By all your good leaves, gentlemen; here I'll make
  My royal choice.

• Henry VIII. Ye have found him, cardinal:
  [Unmasking] 785
  You hold a fair assembly; you do well, lord:
  You are a churchman, or, I'll tell you, cardinal,
  I should judge now unhappily.

• Cardinal Wolsey. I am glad
  Your grace is grown so pleasant. 790

• Henry VIII. My lord chamberlain,
  Prithee, come hither: what fair lady's that?

• Lord Chamberlain. An't please your grace, Sir Thomas Bullen's daughter—
  The Viscount Rochford,—one of her highness' women.

• Henry VIII. By heaven, she is a dainty one. Sweetheart, 795
  I were unmannerly, to take you out,
  And not to kiss you. A health, gentlemen!
  Let it go round.

• Cardinal Wolsey. Sir Thomas Lovell, is the banquet ready
  I' the privy chamber? 800

• Sir Thomas Lovell. Yes, my lord.

• Cardinal Wolsey. Your grace,
  I fear, with dancing is a little heated.

• Henry VIII. I fear, too much.

• Cardinal Wolsey. There's fresher air, my lord, 805
  In the next chamber.

• Henry VIII. Lead in your ladies, every one: sweet partner,
  I must not yet forsake you: let's be merry:
  Good my lord cardinal, I have half a dozen healths
  To drink to these fair ladies, and a measure 810
  To lead 'em once again; and then let's dream
  Who's best in favour. Let the music knock it.

[Exeunt with trumpets]

Act II, Scene 1

Westminster. A street.

[Enter two Gentlemen, meeting]

• First Gentleman. Whither away so fast? 815

• Second Gentleman. O, God save ye!
  Even to the hall, to hear what shall become
  Of the great Duke of Buckingham.

• First Gentleman. I'll save you
  That labour, sir. All's now done, but the ceremony 820
  Of bringing back the prisoner.

• Second Gentleman. Were you there?

• First Gentleman. Yes, indeed, was I.

• Second Gentleman. Pray, speak what has happen'd.

• First Gentleman. You may guess quickly what. 825

• Second Gentleman. Is he found guilty?

• First Gentleman. Yes, truly is he, and condemn'd upon't.

• Second Gentleman. I am sorry for't.

• First Gentleman. So are a number more.

• Second Gentleman. But, pray, how pass'd it? 830

• First Gentleman. I'll tell you in a little. The great duke
  Came to the bar; where to his accusations
  He pleaded still not guilty and alleged
  Many sharp reasons to defeat the law.
  The king's attorney on the contrary 835
  Urged on the examinations, proofs, confessions
  Of divers witnesses; which the duke desired
  To have brought viva voce to his face:
  At which appear'd against him his surveyor;
  Sir Gilbert Peck his chancellor; and John Car, 840
  Confessor to him; with that devil-monk,
  Hopkins, that made this mischief.

• Second Gentleman. That was he
  That fed him with his prophecies?

• First Gentleman. The same. 845
  All these accused him strongly; which he fain
  Would have flung from him, but, indeed, he could not:
  And so his peers, upon this evidence,
  Have found him guilty of high treason. Much
  He spoke, and learnedly, for life; but all 850
  Was either pitied in him or forgotten.

• Second Gentleman. After all this, how did he bear himself?

• First Gentleman. When he was brought again to the bar, to hear
  His knell rung out, his judgment, he was stirr'd
  With such an agony, he sweat extremely, 855
  And something spoke in choler, ill, and hasty:
  But he fell to himself again, and sweetly
  In all the rest show'd a most noble patience.

• Second Gentleman. I do not think he fears death.

• First Gentleman. Sure, he does not: 860
  He never was so womanish; the cause
  He may a little grieve at.

• Second Gentleman. Certainly
  The cardinal is the end of this.

• First Gentleman. 'Tis likely, 865
  By all conjectures: first, Kildare's attainder,
  Then deputy of Ireland; who removed,
  Earl Surrey was sent thither, and in haste too,
  Lest he should help his father.

• Second Gentleman. That trick of state 870
  Was a deep envious one.

• First Gentleman. At his return
  No doubt he will requite it. This is noted,
  And generally, whoever the king favours,
  The cardinal instantly will find employment, 875
  And far enough from court too.

• Second Gentleman. All the commons
  Hate him perniciously, and, o' my conscience,
  Wish him ten fathom deep: this duke as much
  They love and dote on; call him bounteous Buckingham, 880
  The mirror of all courtesy;—

• First Gentleman. Stay there, sir,
  And see the noble ruin'd man you speak of.
  [Enter BUCKINGHAM from his arraignment; tip-staves]
  before him; the axe with the edge towards him; 885
  halberds on each side: accompanied with LOVELL,
  VAUX, SANDS, and common people]

• Second Gentleman. Let's stand close, and behold him.

• Duke of Buckingham. All good people,
  You that thus far have come to pity me, 890
  Hear what I say, and then go home and lose me.
  I have this day received a traitor's judgment,
  And by that name must die: yet, heaven bear witness,
  And if I have a conscience, let it sink me,
  Even as the axe falls, if I be not faithful! 895
  The law I bear no malice for my death;
  'T has done, upon the premises, but justice:
  But those that sought it I could wish more Christians:
  Be what they will, I heartily forgive 'em:
  Yet let 'em look they glory not in mischief, 900
  Nor build their evils on the graves of great men;
  For then my guiltless blood must cry against 'em.
  For further life in this world I ne'er hope,
  Nor will I sue, although the king have mercies
  More than I dare make faults. You few that loved me, 905
  And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham,
  His noble friends and fellows, whom to leave
  Is only bitter to him, only dying,
  Go with me, like good angels, to my end;
  And, as the long divorce of steel falls on me, 910
  Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice,
  And lift my soul to heaven. Lead on, o' God's name.

• Sir Thomas Lovell. I do beseech your grace, for charity,
  If ever any malice in your heart
  Were hid against me, now to forgive me frankly. 915

• Duke of Buckingham. Sir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive you
  As I would be forgiven: I forgive all;
  There cannot be those numberless offences
  'Gainst me, that I cannot take peace with:
  no black envy 920
  Shall mark my grave. Commend me to his grace;
  And if he speak of Buckingham, pray, tell him
  You met him half in heaven: my vows and prayers
  Yet are the king's; and, till my soul forsake,
  Shall cry for blessings on him: may he live 925
  Longer than I have time to tell his years!
  Ever beloved and loving may his rule be!
  And when old time shall lead him to his end,
  Goodness and he fill up one monument!

• Sir Thomas Lovell. To the water side I must conduct your grace; 930
  Then give my charge up to Sir Nicholas Vaux,
  Who undertakes you to your end.

• Sir Nicholas Vaux. Prepare there,
  The duke is coming: see the barge be ready;
  And fit it with such furniture as suits 935
  The greatness of his person.

• Duke of Buckingham. Nay, Sir Nicholas,
  Let it alone; my state now will but mock me.
  When I came hither, I was lord high constable
  And Duke of Buckingham; now, poor Edward Bohun: 940
  Yet I am richer than my base accusers,
  That never knew what truth meant: I now seal it;
  And with that blood will make 'em one day groan for't.
  My noble father, Henry of Buckingham,
  Who first raised head against usurping Richard, 945
  Flying for succor to his servant Banister,
  Being distress'd, was by that wretch betray'd,
  And without trial fell; God's peace be with him!
  Henry the Seventh succeeding, truly pitying
  My father's loss, like a most royal prince, 950
  Restored me to my honours, and, out of ruins,
  Made my name once more noble. Now his son,
  Henry the Eighth, life, honour, name and all
  That made me happy at one stroke has taken
  For ever from the world. I had my trial, 955
  And, must needs say, a noble one; which makes me,
  A little happier than my wretched father:
  Yet thus far we are one in fortunes: both
  Fell by our servants, by those men we loved most;
  A most unnatural and faithless service! 960
  Heaven has an end in all: yet, you that hear me,
  This from a dying man receive as certain:
  Where you are liberal of your loves and counsels
  Be sure you be not loose; for those you make friends
  And give your hearts to, when they once perceive 965
  The least rub in your fortunes, fall away
  Like water from ye, never found again
  But where they mean to sink ye. All good people,
  Pray for me! I must now forsake ye: the last hour
  Of my long weary life is come upon me. Farewell: 970
  And when you would say something that is sad,
  Speak how I fell. I have done; and God forgive me!

[Exeunt BUCKINGHAM and Train]

• First Gentleman. O, this is full of pity! Sir, it calls,
  I fear, too many curses on their beads 975
  That were the authors.

• Second Gentleman. If the duke be guiltless,
  'Tis full of woe: yet I can give you inkling
  Of an ensuing evil, if it fall,
  Greater than this. 980

• First Gentleman. Good angels keep it from us!
  What may it be? You do not doubt my faith, sir?

• Second Gentleman. This secret is so weighty, 'twill require
  A strong faith to conceal it.

• First Gentleman. Let me have it; 985
  I do not talk much.

• Second Gentleman. I am confident,
  You shall, sir: did you not of late days hear
  A buzzing of a separation
  Between the king and Katharine? 990

• First Gentleman. Yes, but it held not:
  For when the king once heard it, out of anger
  He sent command to the lord mayor straight
  To stop the rumor, and allay those tongues
  That durst disperse it. 995

• Second Gentleman. But that slander, sir,
  Is found a truth now: for it grows again
  Fresher than e'er it was; and held for certain
  The king will venture at it. Either the cardinal,
  Or some about him near, have, out of malice 1000
  To the good queen, possess'd him with a scruple
  That will undo her: to confirm this too,
  Cardinal Campeius is arrived, and lately;
  As all think, for this business.

• First Gentleman. 'Tis the cardinal; 1005
  And merely to revenge him on the emperor
  For not bestowing on him, at his asking,
  The archbishopric of Toledo, this is purposed.

• Second Gentleman. I think you have hit the mark: but is't not cruel
  That she should feel the smart of this? The cardinal 1010
  Will have his will, and she must fall.

• First Gentleman. 'Tis woful.
  We are too open here to argue this;
  Let's think in private more.

[Exeunt]

Act II, Scene 2

An ante-chamber in the palace.

[Enter Chamberlain, reading a letter]

• Lord Chamberlain. 'My lord, the horses your lordship sent for, with
  all the care I had, I saw well chosen, ridden, and
  furnished. They were young and handsome, and of the
  best breed in the north. When they were ready to 1020
  set out for London, a man of my lord cardinal's, by
  commission and main power, took 'em from me; with
  this reason: His master would be served before a
  subject, if not before the king; which stopped our
  mouths, sir.' 1025
  I fear he will indeed: well, let him have them:
  He will have all, I think.

[Enter, to Chamberlain, NORFOLK and SUFFOLK]

• Duke of Norfolk. Well met, my lord chamberlain.

• Lord Chamberlain. Good day to both your graces. 1030

• Duke of Suffolk. How is the king employ'd?

• Lord Chamberlain. I left him private,
  Full of sad thoughts and troubles.

• Duke of Norfolk. What's the cause?

• Lord Chamberlain. It seems the marriage with his brother's wife 1035
  Has crept too near his conscience.

• Duke of Suffolk. No, his conscience
  Has crept too near another lady.

• Duke of Norfolk. 'Tis so:
  This is the cardinal's doing, the king-cardinal: 1040
  That blind priest, like the eldest son of fortune,
  Turns what he list. The king will know him one day.

• Duke of Suffolk. Pray God he do! he'll never know himself else.

• Duke of Norfolk. How holily he works in all his business!
  And with what zeal! for, now he has crack'd the league 1045
  Between us and the emperor, the queen's great nephew,
  He dives into the king's soul, and there scatters
  Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience,
  Fears, and despairs; and all these for his marriage:
  And out of all these to restore the king, 1050
  He counsels a divorce; a loss of her
  That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years
  About his neck, yet never lost her lustre;
  Of her that loves him with that excellence
  That angels love good men with; even of her 1055
  That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls,
  Will bless the king: and is not this course pious?

• Lord Chamberlain. Heaven keep me from such counsel! 'Tis most true
  These news are every where; every tongue speaks 'em,
  And every true heart weeps for't: all that dare 1060
  Look into these affairs see this main end,
  The French king's sister. Heaven will one day open
  The king's eyes, that so long have slept upon
  This bold bad man.

• Duke of Suffolk. And free us from his slavery. 1065

• Duke of Norfolk. We had need pray,
  And heartily, for our deliverance;
  Or this imperious man will work us all
  From princes into pages: all men's honours
  Lie like one lump before him, to be fashion'd 1070
  Into what pitch he please.

• Duke of Suffolk. For me, my lords,
  I love him not, nor fear him; there's my creed:
  As I am made without him, so I'll stand,
  If the king please; his curses and his blessings 1075
  Touch me alike, they're breath I not believe in.
  I knew him, and I know him; so I leave him
  To him that made him proud, the pope.

• Duke of Norfolk. Let's in;
  And with some other business put the king 1080
  From these sad thoughts, that work too much upon him:
  My lord, you'll bear us company?

• Lord Chamberlain. Excuse me;
  The king has sent me otherwhere: besides,
  You'll find a most unfit time to disturb him: 1085
  Health to your lordships.

• Duke of Norfolk. Thanks, my good lord chamberlain.
  [Exit Chamberlain; and KING HENRY VIII draws the]
  curtain, and sits reading pensively]

• Duke of Suffolk. How sad he looks! sure, he is much afflicted. 1090

• Henry VIII. Who's there, ha?

• Duke of Norfolk. Pray God he be not angry.

• Henry VIII. Who's there, I say? How dare you thrust yourselves
  Into my private meditations?
  Who am I? ha? 1095

• Duke of Norfolk. A gracious king that pardons all offences
  Malice ne'er meant: our breach of duty this way
  Is business of estate; in which we come
  To know your royal pleasure.

• Henry VIII. Ye are too bold: 1100
  Go to; I'll make ye know your times of business:
  Is this an hour for temporal affairs, ha?
  [Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY and CARDINAL CAMPEIUS, with]
  a commission]
  Who's there? my good lord cardinal? O my Wolsey, 1105
  The quiet of my wounded conscience;
  Thou art a cure fit for a king.
  [To CARDINAL CAMPEIUS]
  You're welcome,
  Most learned reverend sir, into our kingdom: 1110
  Use us and it.
  [To CARDINAL WOLSEY]
  My good lord, have great care
  I be not found a talker.

• Cardinal Wolsey. Sir, you cannot. 1115
  I would your grace would give us but an hour
  Of private conference.

• Henry VIII. [To NORFOLK and SUFFOLK]
  We are busy; go.

• Duke of Norfolk. [Aside to SUFFOLK] 1120
  This priest has no pride in him?

• Duke of Suffolk. [Aside to NORFOLK] Not to speak of:
  I would not be so sick though for his place:
  But this cannot continue.

• Duke of Norfolk. [Aside to SUFFOLK] If it do, 1125
  I'll venture one have-at-him.

• Duke of Suffolk. [Aside to NORFOLK] I another.

[Exeunt NORFOLK and SUFFOLK]

• Cardinal Wolsey. Your grace has given a precedent of wisdom
  Above all princes, in committing freely 1130
  Your scruple to the voice of Christendom:
  Who can be angry now? what envy reach you?
  The Spaniard, tied blood and favour to her,
  Must now confess, if they have any goodness,
  The trial just and noble. All the clerks, 1135
  I mean the learned ones, in Christian kingdoms
  Have their free voices: Rome, the nurse of judgment,
  Invited by your noble self, hath sent
  One general tongue unto us, this good man,
  This just and learned priest, Cardinal Campeius; 1140
  Whom once more I present unto your highness.

• Henry VIII. And once more in mine arms I bid him welcome,
  And thank the holy conclave for their loves:
  They have sent me such a man I would have wish'd for.

• Cardinal Campeius. Your grace must needs deserve all strangers' loves, 1145
  You are so noble. To your highness' hand
  I tender my commission; by whose virtue,
  The court of Rome commanding, you, my lord
  Cardinal of York, are join'd with me their servant
  In the unpartial judging of this business. 1150

• Henry VIII. Two equal men. The queen shall be acquainted
  Forthwith for what you come. Where's Gardiner?

• Cardinal Wolsey. I know your majesty has always loved her
  So dear in heart, not to deny her that
  A woman of less place might ask by law: 1155
  Scholars allow'd freely to argue for her.

• Henry VIII. Ay, and the best she shall have; and my favour
  To him that does best: God forbid else. Cardinal,
  Prithee, call Gardiner to me, my new secretary:
  I find him a fit fellow. 1160

[Exit CARDINAL WOLSEY]

[Re-enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, with GARDINER]

• Cardinal Wolsey. [Aside to GARDINER] Give me your hand much joy and
  favour to you;
  You are the king's now. 1165

• Gardiner. [Aside to CARDINAL WOLSEY]
  But to be commanded
  For ever by your grace, whose hand has raised me.

• Henry VIII. Come hither, Gardiner.

[Walks and whispers]

• Cardinal Campeius. My Lord of York, was not one Doctor Pace
  In this man's place before him?

• Cardinal Wolsey. Yes, he was.

• Cardinal Campeius. Was he not held a learned man?

• Cardinal Wolsey. Yes, surely. 1175

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

• Cardinal Wolsey. How! of me?

• Cardinal Campeius. They will not stick to say you envied him,
  And fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous, 1180
  Kept him a foreign man still; which so grieved him,
  That he ran mad and died.

• Cardinal Wolsey. Heaven's peace be with him!
  That's Christian care enough: for living murmurers
  There's places of rebuke. He was a fool; 1185
  For he would needs be virtuous: that good fellow,
  If I command him, follows my appointment:
  I will have none so near else. Learn this, brother,
  We live not to be grip'd by meaner persons.

• Henry VIII. Deliver this with modesty to the queen. 1190
  [Exit GARDINER]
  The most convenient place that I can think of
  For such receipt of learning is Black-Friars;
  There ye shall meet about this weighty business.
  My Wolsey, see it furnish'd. O, my lord, 1195
  Would it not grieve an able man to leave
  So sweet a bedfellow? But, conscience, conscience!
  O, 'tis a tender place; and I must leave her.

[Exeunt]

Act II, Scene 3

An ante-chamber of the QUEEN’S apartments.

[Enter ANNE and an Old Lady]

• Anne Bullen. Not for that neither: here's the pang that pinches:
  His highness having lived so 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 1205
  So many courses of the sun enthroned,
  Still growing in a majesty and pomp, the which
  To leave a thousand-fold more bitter than
  'Tis sweet at first to acquire,—after this process,
  To give her the avaunt! it is a pity 1210
  Would move a monster.

• Old Lady. Hearts of most hard temper
  Melt and lament for her.

• Anne Bullen. O, God's will! much better
  She ne'er had known pomp: though't be temporal, 1215
  Yet, if that quarrel, fortune, do divorce
  It from the bearer, 'tis a sufferance panging
  As soul and body's severing.

• Old Lady. Alas, poor lady!
  She's a stranger now again. 1220

• Anne Bullen. 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 to be perk'd up in a glistering grief, 1225
  And wear a golden sorrow.

• Old Lady. Our content
  Is our best having.

• Anne Bullen. By my troth and maidenhead,
  I would not be a queen. 1230

• Old Lady. Beshrew me, I would,
  And venture maidenhead for't; and so would you,
  For all this spice of your hypocrisy:
  You, that have so fair parts of woman on you,
  Have too a woman's heart; which ever yet 1235
  Affected eminence, wealth, sovereignty;
  Which, to say sooth, are blessings; and which gifts,
  Saving your mincing, the capacity
  Of your soft cheveril conscience would receive,
  If you might please to stretch it. 1240

• Anne Bullen. Nay, good troth.

• Old Lady. Yes, troth, and troth; you would not be a queen?

• Anne Bullen. No, not for all the riches under heaven.
  Old as I am, to queen it: but, I pray you,
  What think you of a duchess? have you limbs 1245
  To bear that load of title?

• Anne Bullen. No, in truth.

• Old Lady. Then you are weakly made: pluck off a little;
  I would not be a young count in your way, 1250
  For more than blushing comes to: if your back
  Cannot vouchsafe this burthen,'tis too weak
  Ever to get a boy.

• Anne Bullen. How you do talk!
  I swear again, I would not be a queen 1255
  For all the world.

• Old Lady. In faith, for little England
  You'ld venture an emballing: I myself
  Would for Carnarvonshire, although there long'd
  No more to the crown but that. Lo, who comes here? 1260

[Enter Chamberlain]

• Lord Chamberlain. Good morrow, ladies. What were't worth to know
  The secret of your conference?

• Anne Bullen. My good lord,
  Not your demand; it values not your asking: 1265
  Our mistress' sorrows we were pitying.

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

• Anne Bullen. Now, I pray God, amen! 1270

• Lord Chamberlain. You bear a gentle mind, and heavenly blessings
  Follow such creatures. That you may, fair lady,
  Perceive I speak sincerely, and high note's
  Ta'en of your many virtues, the king's majesty
  Commends his good opinion of you, and 1275
  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 Bullen. I do not know 1280
  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. Beseech your lordship, 1285
  Vouchsafe to speak my thanks and my obedience,
  As from a blushing handmaid, to his highness;
  Whose health and royalty I pray for.

• Lord Chamberlain. Lady,
  I shall not fail to approve the fair conceit 1290
  The king hath of you.
  [Aside]
  I have perused her well;
  Beauty and honour in her are so mingled
  That they have caught the king: and who knows yet 1295
  But from this lady may proceed a gem
  To lighten all this isle? I'll to the king,
  And say I spoke with you.

[Exit Chamberlain]

• Anne Bullen. My honour'd lord. 1300

• Old Lady. Why, this it is; see, see!
  I have been begging sixteen years in court,
  Am yet a courtier beggarly, nor could
  Come pat betwixt too early and too late
  For any suit of pounds; and you, O fate! 1305
  A very fresh-fish here—fie, fie, fie upon
  This compell'd fortune!—have your mouth fill'd up
  Before you open it.

• Anne Bullen. This is strange to me.

• Old Lady. How tastes it? is it bitter? forty pence, no. 1310
  There was a lady once, 'tis an old story,
  That would not be a queen, that would she not,
  For all the mud in Egypt: have you heard it?

• Anne Bullen. Come, you are pleasant.

• Old Lady. With your theme, I could 1315
  O'ermount the lark. The Marchioness of Pembroke!
  A thousand pounds a year for pure respect!
  No other obligation! By my life,
  That promises moe thousands: honour's train
  Is longer than his foreskirt. By this time 1320
  I know your back will bear a duchess: say,
  Are you not stronger than you were?

• Anne Bullen. Good lady,
  Make yourself mirth with your particular fancy,
  And leave me out on't. Would I had no being, 1325
  If this salute my blood a jot: it faints me,
  To think what follows.
  The queen is comfortless, and we forgetful
  In our long absence: pray, do not deliver
  What here you've heard to her. 1330

• Old Lady. What do you think me?

[Exeunt]

Act II, Scene 4

A hall in Black-Friars.

[Trumpets, sennet, and cornets. Enter two Vergers,] [p]with short silver wands; next them, two Scribes, in [p]the habit of doctors; after them, CANTERBURY alone; [p]after him, LINCOLN, Ely, Rochester, and Saint [p]Asaph; next them, with some small distance, follows [p]a Gentleman bearing the purse, with the great seal, [p]and a cardinal's hat; then two Priests, bearing [p]each a silver cross; then a Gentleman-usher [p]bare-headed, accompanied with a Sergeant-at-arms [p]bearing a silver mace; then two Gentlemen bearing [p]two great silver pillars; after them, side by side, [p]CARDINAL WOLSEY and CARDINAL CAMPEIUS; two Noblemen [p]with the sword and mace. KING HENRY VIII takes [p]place under the cloth of state; CARDINAL WOLSEY and [p]CARDINAL CAMPEIUS sit under him as judges. QUEEN [p]KATHARINE takes place some distance from KING [p]HENRY VIII. The Bishops place themselves on each [p]side the court, in manner of a consistory; below [p]them, the Scribes. The Lords sit next the Bishops. [p]The rest of the Attendants stand in convenient [p]order about the stage]

• Cardinal Wolsey. Whilst our commission from Rome is read,
  Let silence be commanded. 1355

• Henry VIII. What's the need?
  It hath already publicly been read,
  And on all sides the authority allow'd;
  You may, then, spare that time.

• Cardinal Wolsey. Be't so. Proceed. 1360

• Scribe. Say, Henry King of England, come into the court.

• Crier. Henry King of England, &c.

• Henry VIII. Here.

• Scribe. Say, Katharine Queen of England, come into the court.

• Crier. Katharine Queen of England, &c. 1365
  [QUEEN KATHARINE makes no answer, rises out of her]
  chair, goes about the court, comes to KING HENRY
  VIII, and kneels at his feet; then speaks]

• Queen Katharine. Sir, I desire you do me right and justice;
  And to bestow your pity on me: for 1370
  I am a most poor woman, and a stranger,
  Born out of your dominions; having here
  No judge indifferent, nor no more assurance
  Of equal friendship and proceeding. Alas, sir,
  In what have I offended you? what cause 1375
  Hath my behavior given to your displeasure,
  That thus you should proceed to put me off,
  And take your good grace from me? Heaven witness,
  I have been to you a true and humble wife,
  At all times to your will conformable; 1380
  Ever in fear to kindle your dislike,
  Yea, subject to your countenance, glad or sorry
  As I saw it inclined: when was the hour
  I ever contradicted your desire,
  Or made it not mine too? Or which of your friends 1385
  Have I not strove to love, although I knew
  He were mine enemy? what friend of mine
  That had to him derived your anger, did I
  Continue in my liking? nay, gave notice
  He was from thence discharged. Sir, call to mind 1390
  That I have been your wife, in this obedience,
  Upward of twenty years, and have been blest
  With many children by you: if, in the course
  And process of this time, you can report,
  And prove it too, against mine honour aught, 1395
  My bond to wedlock, or my love and duty,
  Against your sacred person, in God's name,
  Turn me away; and let the foul'st contempt
  Shut door upon me, and so give me up
  To the sharp'st kind of justice. Please you sir, 1400
  The king, your father, was reputed for
  A prince most prudent, of an excellent
  And unmatch'd wit and judgment: Ferdinand,
  My father, king of Spain, was reckon'd one
  The wisest prince that there had reign'd by many 1405
  A year before: it is not to be question'd
  That they had gather'd a wise council to them
  Of every realm, that did debate this business,
  Who deem'd our marriage lawful: wherefore I humbly
  Beseech you, sir, to spare me, till I may 1410
  Be by my friends in Spain advised; whose counsel
  I will implore: if not, i' the name of God,
  Your pleasure be fulfill'd!

• Cardinal Wolsey. You have here, lady,
  And of your choice, these reverend fathers; men 1415
  Of singular integrity and learning,
  Yea, the elect o' the land, who are assembled
  To plead your cause: it shall be therefore bootless
  That longer you desire the court; as well
  For your own quiet, as to rectify 1420
  What is unsettled in the king.

• Cardinal Campeius. His grace
  Hath spoken well and justly: therefore, madam,
  It's fit this royal session do proceed;
  And that, without delay, their arguments 1425
  Be now produced and heard.

• Queen Katharine. Lord cardinal,
  To you I speak.

• Cardinal Wolsey. Your pleasure, madam?

• Queen Katharine. Sir, 1430
  I am about to weep; but, thinking that
  We are a queen, or long have dream'd so, certain
  The daughter of a king, my drops of tears
  I'll turn to sparks of fire.

• Cardinal Wolsey. Be patient yet. 1435

• Queen Katharine. I will, when you are humble; nay, before,
  Or God will punish me. I do believe,
  Induced by potent circumstances, that
  You are mine enemy, and make my challenge
  You shall not be my judge: for it is you 1440
  Have blown this coal betwixt my lord and me;
  Which God's dew quench! Therefore I say again,
  I utterly abhor, yea, from my soul
  Refuse you for my judge; whom, yet once more,
  I hold my most malicious foe, and think not 1445
  At all a friend to truth.

• Cardinal Wolsey. I do profess
  You speak not like yourself; who ever yet
  Have stood to charity, and display'd the effects
  Of disposition gentle, and of wisdom 1450
  O'ertopping woman's power. Madam, you do me wrong:
  I have no spleen against you; nor injustice
  For you or any: how far I have proceeded,
  Or how far further shall, is warranted
  By a commission from the consistory, 1455
  Yea, the whole consistory of Rome. You charge me
  That I have blown this coal: I do deny it:
  The king is present: if it be known to him
  That I gainsay my deed, how may he wound,
  And worthily, my falsehood! yea, as much 1460
  As you have done my truth. If he know
  That I am free of your report, he knows
  I am not of your wrong. Therefore in him
  It lies to cure me: and the cure is, to
  Remove these thoughts from you: the which before 1465
  His highness shall speak in, I do beseech
  You, gracious madam, to unthink your speaking
  And to say so no more.

• Queen Katharine. My lord, my lord,
  I am a simple woman, much too weak 1470
  To oppose your cunning. You're meek and
  humble-mouth'd;
  You sign your place and calling, in full seeming,
  With meekness and humility; but your heart
  Is cramm'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride. 1475
  You have, by fortune and his highness' favours,
  Gone slightly o'er low steps and now are mounted
  Where powers are your retainers, and your words,
  Domestics to you, serve your will as't please
  Yourself pronounce their office. I must tell you, 1480
  You tender more your person's honour than
  Your high profession spiritual: that again
  I do refuse you for my judge; and here,
  Before you all, appeal unto the pope,
  To bring my whole cause 'fore his holiness, 1485
  And to be judged by him.

[She curtsies to KING HENRY VIII, and offers to depart]

• Cardinal Campeius. The queen is obstinate,
  Stubborn to justice, apt to accuse it, and
  Disdainful to be tried by't: 'tis not well. 1490
  She's going away.

• Henry VIII. Call her again.

• Crier. Katharine Queen of England, come into the court.

• Griffith. Madam, you are call'd back.

• Queen Katharine. What need you note it? pray you, keep your way: 1495
  When you are call'd, return. Now, the Lord help,
  They vex me past my patience! Pray you, pass on:
  I will not tarry; no, nor ever more
  Upon this business my appearance make
  In any of their courts. 1500

[Exeunt QUEEN KATHARINE and her Attendants]

• Henry VIII. Go thy ways, Kate:
  That man i' the world who shall report he has
  A better wife, let him in nought be trusted,
  For speaking false in that: thou art, alone, 1505
  If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness,
  Thy meekness saint-like, wife-like government,
  Obeying in commanding, and thy parts
  Sovereign and pious else, could speak thee out,
  The queen of earthly queens: she's noble born; 1510
  And, like her true nobility, she has
  Carried herself towards me.

• Cardinal Wolsey. Most gracious sir,
  In humblest manner I require your highness,
  That it shall please you to declare, in hearing 1515
  Of all these ears,—for where I am robb'd and bound,
  There must I be unloosed, although not there
  At once and fully satisfied,—whether ever I
  Did broach this business to your highness; or
  Laid any scruple in your way, which might 1520
  Induce you to the question on't? or ever
  Have to you, but with thanks to God for such
  A royal lady, spake one the least word that might
  Be to the prejudice of her present state,
  Or touch of her good person? 1525

• Henry VIII. My lord cardinal,
  I do excuse you; yea, upon mine honour,
  I free you from't. You are not to be taught
  That you have many enemies, that know not
  Why they are so, but, like to village-curs, 1530
  Bark when their fellows do: by some of these
  The queen is put in anger. You're excused:
  But will you be more justified? You ever
  Have wish'd the sleeping of this business; never desired
  It to be stirr'd; but oft have hinder'd, oft, 1535
  The passages made toward it: on my honour,
  I speak my good lord cardinal to this point,
  And thus far clear him. Now, what moved me to't,
  I will be bold with time and your attention:
  Then mark the inducement. Thus it came; give heed to't: 1540
  My conscience first received a tenderness,
  Scruple, and prick, on certain speeches utter'd
  By the Bishop of Bayonne, then French ambassador;
  Who had been hither sent on the debating
  A marriage 'twixt the Duke of Orleans and 1545
  Our daughter Mary: i' the progress of this business,
  Ere a determinate resolution, he,
  I mean the bishop, did require a respite;
  Wherein he might the king his lord advertise
  Whether our daughter were legitimate, 1550
  Respecting this our marriage with the dowager,
  Sometimes our brother's wife. This respite shook
  The bosom of my conscience, enter'd me,
  Yea, with a splitting power, and made to tremble
  The region of my breast; which forced such way, 1555
  That many mazed considerings did throng
  And press'd in with this caution. First, methought
  I stood not in the smile of heaven; who had
  Commanded nature, that my lady's womb,
  If it conceived a male child by me, should 1560
  Do no more offices of life to't than
  The grave does to the dead; for her male issue
  Or died where they were made, or shortly after
  This world had air'd them: hence I took a thought,
  This was a judgment on me; that my kingdom, 1565
  Well worthy the best heir o' the world, should not
  Be gladded in't by me: then follows, that
  I weigh'd the danger which my realms stood in
  By this my issue's fail; and that gave to me
  Many a groaning throe. Thus hulling in 1570
  The wild sea of my conscience, I did steer
  Toward this remedy, whereupon we are
  Now present here together: that's to say,
  I meant to rectify my conscience,—which
  I then did feel full sick, and yet not well,— 1575
  By all the reverend fathers of the land
  And doctors learn'd: first I began in private
  With you, my Lord of Lincoln; you remember
  How under my oppression I did reek,
  When I first moved you. 1580

• Bishop Lincoln. Very well, my liege.

• Henry VIII. I have spoke long: be pleased yourself to say
  How far you satisfied me.

• Bishop Lincoln. So please your highness,
  The question did at first so stagger me, 1585
  Bearing a state of mighty moment in't
  And consequence of dread, that I committed
  The daring'st counsel which I had to doubt;
  And did entreat your highness to this course
  Which you are running here. 1590

• Henry VIII. I then moved you,
  My Lord of Canterbury; and got your leave
  To make this present summons: unsolicited
  I left no reverend person in this court;
  But by particular consent proceeded 1595
  Under your hands and seals: therefore, go on:
  For no dislike i' the world against the person
  Of the good queen, but the sharp thorny points
  Of my alleged reasons, drive this forward:
  Prove but our marriage lawful, by my life 1600
  And kingly dignity, we are contented
  To wear our mortal state to come with her,
  Katharine our queen, before the primest creature
  That's paragon'd o' the world.

• Cardinal Campeius. So please your highness, 1605
  The queen being absent, 'tis a needful fitness
  That we adjourn this court till further day:
  Meanwhile must be an earnest motion
  Made to the queen, to call back her appeal
  She intends unto his holiness. 1610

• Henry VIII. [Aside]. I may perceive
  These cardinals trifle with me: I abhor
  This dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome.
  My learn'd and well-beloved servant, Cranmer,
  Prithee, return: with thy approach, I know, 1615
  My comfort comes along. Break up the court:
  I say, set on.

[Exeunt in manner as they entered]

Act III, Scene 1

London. QUEEN KATHARINE’s apartments.

[Enter QUEEN KATHARINE and her Women, as at work]

• Queen Katharine. Take thy lute, wench: my soul grows sad with troubles; 1620
  Sing, and disperse 'em, if thou canst: leave working.
  [SONG]
  Orpheus with his lute made trees,
  And the mountain tops that freeze,
  Bow themselves when he did sing: 1625
  To his music plants and flowers
  Ever sprung; as sun and showers
  There had made a lasting spring.
  Every thing that heard him play,
  Even the billows of the sea, 1630
  Hung their heads, and then lay by.
  In sweet music is such art,
  Killing care and grief of heart
  Fall asleep, or hearing, die.

[Enter a Gentleman]

• Queen Katharine. How now!

• Gentleman. An't please your grace, the two great cardinals
  Wait in the presence.

• Queen Katharine. Would they speak with me?

• Gentleman. They will'd me say so, madam. 1640

• Queen Katharine. Pray their graces
  To come near.
  [Exit Gentleman]
  What can be their business
  With me, a poor weak woman, fall'n from favour? 1645
  I do not like their coming. Now I think on't,
  They should be good men; their affairs as righteous:
  But all hoods make not monks.

[Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY and CARDINAL CAMPEIUS]

• Cardinal Wolsey. Peace to your highness! 1650

• Queen Katharine. Your graces find me here part of a housewife,
  I would be all, against the worst may happen.
  What are your pleasures with me, reverend lords?

• Cardinal Wolsey. May it please you noble madam, to withdraw
  Into your private chamber, we shall give you 1655
  The full cause of our coming.

• Queen Katharine. Speak it here:
  There's nothing I have done yet, o' my conscience,
  Deserves a corner: would all other women
  Could speak this with as free a soul as I do! 1660
  My lords, I care not, so much I am happy
  Above a number, if my actions
  Were tried by every tongue, every eye saw 'em,
  Envy and base opinion set against 'em,
  I know my life so even. If your business 1665
  Seek me out, and that way I am wife in,
  Out with it boldly: truth loves open dealing.

• Cardinal Wolsey. Tanta est erga te mentis integritas, regina
  serenissima,—

• Queen Katharine. O, good my lord, no Latin; 1670
  I am not such a truant since my coming,
  As not to know the language I have lived in:
  A strange tongue makes my cause more strange,
  suspicious;
  Pray, speak in English: here are some will thank you, 1675
  If you speak truth, for their poor mistress' sake;
  Believe me, she has had much wrong: lord cardinal,
  The willing'st sin I ever yet committed
  May be absolved in English.

• Cardinal Wolsey. Noble lady, 1680
  I am sorry my integrity should breed,
  And service to his majesty and you,
  So deep suspicion, where all faith was meant.
  We come not by the way of accusation,
  To taint that honour every good tongue blesses, 1685
  Nor to betray you any way to sorrow,
  You have too much, good lady; but to know
  How you stand minded in the weighty difference
  Between the king and you; and to deliver,
  Like free and honest men, our just opinions 1690
  And comforts to your cause.

• Cardinal Campeius. Most 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 censure 1695
  Both of his truth and him, which was too far,
  Offers, as I do, in a sign of peace,
  His service and his counsel.

• Queen Katharine. [Aside]. To betray me.—
  My lords, I thank you both for your good wills; 1700
  Ye speak like honest men; pray God, ye prove so!
  But how to make ye suddenly an answer,
  In such a point of weight, so near mine honour,—
  More near my life, I fear,—with my weak wit,
  And to such men of gravity and learning, 1705
  In truth, I know not. I was set at work
  Among my maids: full little, God knows, looking
  Either for such men or such business.
  For her sake that I have been,—for I feel
  The last fit of my greatness,—good your graces, 1710
  Let me have time and counsel for my cause:
  Alas, I am a woman, friendless, hopeless!

• Cardinal Wolsey. Madam, you wrong the king's love with these fears:
  Your hopes and friends are infinite.

• Queen Katharine. In England 1715
  But little for my profit: can you think, lords,
  That any Englishman dare give me counsel?
  Or be a known friend, 'gainst his highness' pleasure,
  Though he be grown so desperate to be honest,
  And live a subject? Nay, forsooth, my friends, 1720
  They that must weigh out my afflictions,
  They that my trust must grow to, live not here:
  They are, as all my other comforts, far hence
  In mine own country, lords.

• Cardinal Campeius. I would your grace 1725
  Would leave your griefs, and take my counsel.

• Queen Katharine. How, sir?

• Cardinal Campeius. Put your main cause into the king's protection;
  He's loving and most gracious: 'twill be much
  Both for your honour better and your cause; 1730
  For if the trial of the law o'ertake ye,
  You'll part away disgraced.

• Cardinal Wolsey. He tells you rightly.

• Queen Katharine. Ye tell me what ye wish for both,—my ruin:
  Is this your Christian counsel? out upon ye! 1735
  Heaven is above all yet; there sits a judge
  That no king can corrupt.

• Cardinal Campeius. Your rage mistakes us.

• Queen Katharine. The more shame for ye: holy men I thought ye,
  Upon my soul, two reverend cardinal virtues; 1740
  But cardinal sins and hollow hearts I fear ye:
  Mend 'em, for shame, my lords. Is this your comfort?
  The cordial that ye bring a wretched lady,
  A woman lost among ye, laugh'd at, scorn'd?
  I will not wish ye half my miseries; 1745
  I have more charity: but say, I warn'd ye;
  Take heed, for heaven's sake, take heed, lest at once
  The burthen of my sorrows fall upon ye.

• Cardinal Wolsey. Madam, this is a mere distraction;
  You turn the good we offer into envy. 1750

• Queen Katharine. Ye turn me into nothing: woe upon ye
  And all such false professors! would you have me—
  If you have any justice, any pity;
  If ye be any thing but churchmen's habits—
  Put my sick cause into his hands that hates me? 1755
  Alas, 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
  Is only my obedience. What can happen
  To me above this wretchedness? all your studies 1760
  Make me a curse like this.

• Cardinal Campeius. Your fears are worse.

• Queen Katharine. Have I lived thus long—let me speak myself,
  Since virtue finds no friends—a wife, a true one?
  A woman, I dare say without vain-glory, 1765
  Never yet branded with suspicion?
  Have I with all my full affections
  Still met the king? loved him next heaven?
  obey'd him?
  Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him? 1770
  Almost forgot my prayers to content him?
  And am I thus rewarded? 'tis not well, lords.
  Bring me a constant woman to her husband,
  One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure;
  And to that woman, when she has done most, 1775
  Yet will I add an honour, a great patience.

• Cardinal Wolsey. Madam, you wander from the good we aim at.

• Queen Katharine. My lord, I dare not make myself so guilty,
  To give up willingly that noble title
  Your master wed me to: nothing but death 1780
  Shall e'er divorce my dignities.

• Cardinal Wolsey. Pray, hear me.

• Queen Katharine. Would I had never trod this English earth,
  Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it!
  Ye have angels' faces, but heaven knows your hearts. 1785
  What will become of me now, wretched lady!
  I am the most unhappy woman living.
  Alas, poor wenches, where are now your fortunes!
  Shipwreck'd upon a kingdom, where no pity,
  No friend, no hope; no kindred weep for me; 1790
  Almost 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.

• Cardinal Wolsey. If your grace
  Could but be brought to know our ends are honest, 1795
  You'ld feel more comfort: why should we, good lady,
  Upon what cause, wrong you? alas, our places,
  The way of our profession is against it:
  We are to cure such sorrows, not to sow 'em.
  For goodness' sake, consider what you do; 1800
  How you may hurt yourself, ay, utterly
  Grow from the king's acquaintance, by this carriage.
  The hearts of princes kiss obedience,
  So much they love it; but to stubborn spirits
  They swell, and grow as terrible as storms. 1805
  I know you have a gentle, noble temper,
  A soul as even as a calm: pray, think us
  Those we profess, peace-makers, friends, and servants.

• Cardinal Campeius. Madam, you'll find it so. You wrong your virtues
  With these weak women's fears: a noble spirit, 1810
  As yours was put into you, ever casts
  Such doubts, as false coin, from it. The king loves you;
  Beware you lose it not: for us, if you please
  To trust us in your business, we are ready
  To use our utmost studies in your service. 1815

• Queen Katharine. Do what ye will, my lords: and, pray, forgive me,
  If I have used myself unmannerly;
  You know I am a woman, lacking wit
  To make a seemly answer to such persons.
  Pray, do my service to his majesty: 1820
  He has my heart yet; and shall have my prayers
  While I shall have my life. Come, reverend fathers,
  Bestow your counsels on me: she now begs,
  That little thought, when she set footing here,
  She should have bought her dignities so dear. 1825

[Exeunt]

Act III, Scene 2

Ante-chamber to KING HENRY VIII’s apartment.

[Enter NORFOLK, SUFFOLK, SURREY, and Chamberlain]

• Duke of Norfolk. If you will now unite in your complaints,
  And force them with a constancy, the cardinal
  Cannot stand under them: if you omit 1830
  The offer of this time, I cannot promise
  But that you shall sustain moe new disgraces,
  With these you bear already.

• Earl of Surrey. I am joyful
  To meet the least occasion that may give me 1835
  Remembrance of my father-in-law, the duke,
  To be revenged on him.

• Duke of Suffolk. Which of the peers
  Have uncontemn'd gone by him, or at least
  Strangely neglected? when did he regard 1840
  The stamp of nobleness in any person
  Out of himself?

• Lord Chamberlain. My lords, you speak your pleasures:
  What he deserves of you and me I know;
  What we can do to him, though now the time 1845
  Gives way to us, I much fear. If you cannot
  Bar his access to the king, never attempt
  Any thing on him; for he hath a witchcraft
  Over the king in's tongue.

• Duke of Norfolk. O, fear him not; 1850
  His spell in that is out: the king hath found
  Matter against him that for ever mars
  The honey of his language. No, he's settled,
  Not to come off, in his displeasure.

• Earl of Surrey. Sir, 1855
  I should be glad to hear such news as this
  Once every hour.

• Duke of Norfolk. Believe it, this is true:
  In the divorce his contrary proceedings
  Are all unfolded wherein he appears 1860
  As I would wish mine enemy.

• Earl of Surrey. How came
  His practises to light?

• Duke of Suffolk. Most strangely.

• Earl of Surrey. O, how, how? 1865

• Duke of Suffolk. The cardinal's letters to the pope miscarried,
  And came to the eye o' the king: wherein was read,
  How that the cardinal did entreat his holiness
  To stay the judgment o' the divorce; for if
  It did take place, 'I do,' quoth he, 'perceive 1870
  My king is tangled in affection to
  A creature of the queen's, Lady Anne Bullen.'

• Earl of Surrey. Has the king this?

• Duke of Suffolk. Believe it.

• Earl of Surrey. Will this work? 1875

• Lord Chamberlain. The king in this perceives him, how he coasts
  And hedges his own way. But in this point
  All his tricks founder, and he brings his physic
  After his patient's death: the king already
  Hath married the fair lady. 1880

• Earl of Surrey. Would he had!

• Duke of Suffolk. May you be happy in your wish, my lord
  For, I profess, you have it.

• Earl of Surrey. Now, all my joy
  Trace the conjunction! 1885

• Duke of Suffolk. My amen to't!

• Duke of Norfolk. All men's!

• Duke of Suffolk. There's order given for her coronation:
  Marry, this is yet but young, and may be left
  To some ears unrecounted. But, my lords, 1890
  She is a gallant creature, and complete
  In mind and feature: I persuade me, from her
  Will fall some blessing to this land, which shall
  In it be memorised.

• Earl of Surrey. But, will the king 1895
  Digest this letter of the cardinal's?
  The Lord forbid!

• Duke of Norfolk. Marry, amen!

• Duke of Suffolk. No, no;
  There be moe wasps that buzz about his nose 1900
  Will make this sting the sooner. Cardinal Campeius
  Is stol'n away to Rome; hath ta'en no leave;
  Has left the cause o' the king unhandled; and
  Is posted, as the agent of our cardinal,
  To second all his plot. I do assure you 1905
  The king cried Ha! at this.

• Lord Chamberlain. Now, God incense him,
  And let him cry Ha! louder!

• Duke of Norfolk. But, my lord,
  When returns Cranmer? 1910

• Duke of Suffolk. He is return'd in his opinions; which
  Have satisfied the king for his divorce,
  Together with all famous colleges
  Almost in Christendom: shortly, I believe,
  His second marriage shall be publish'd, and 1915
  Her coronation. Katharine no more
  Shall be call'd queen, but princess dowager
  And widow to Prince Arthur.

• Duke of Norfolk. This same Cranmer's
  A worthy fellow, and hath ta'en much pain 1920
  In the king's business.

• Duke of Suffolk. He has; and we shall see him
  For it an archbishop.

• Duke of Norfolk. So I hear.

• Duke of Suffolk. 'Tis so. 1925
  The cardinal!

[Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY and CROMWELL]

• Duke of Norfolk. Observe, observe, he's moody.

• Cardinal Wolsey. The packet, Cromwell.
  Gave't you the king? 1930

• Cromwell. To his own hand, in's bedchamber.

• Cardinal Wolsey. Look'd he o' the inside of the paper?

• Cromwell. Presently
  He did unseal them: and the first he view'd,
  He did it with a serious mind; a heed 1935
  Was in his countenance. You he bade
  Attend him here this morning.

• Cardinal Wolsey. Is he ready
  To come abroad?

• Cromwell. I think, by this he is. 1940

• Cardinal Wolsey. Leave me awhile.
  [Exit CROMWELL]
  [Aside]
  It shall be to the Duchess of Alencon,
  The French king's sister: he shall marry her. 1945
  Anne Bullen! No; I'll no Anne Bullens for him:
  There's more in't than fair visage. Bullen!
  No, we'll no Bullens. Speedily I wish
  To hear from Rome. The Marchioness of Pembroke!

• Duke of Norfolk. He's discontented. 1950

• Duke of Suffolk. May be, he hears the king
  Does whet his anger to him.

• Earl of Surrey. Sharp enough,
  Lord, for thy justice!

• Cardinal Wolsey. [Aside] The late queen's gentlewoman, 1955
  a knight's daughter,
  To be her mistress' mistress! the queen's queen!
  This candle burns not clear: 'tis I must snuff it;
  Then out it goes. What though I know her virtuous
  And well deserving? yet I know her for 1960
  A spleeny Lutheran; and not wholesome to
  Our cause, that she should lie i' the bosom of
  Our hard-ruled king. Again, there is sprung up
  An heretic, an arch one, Cranmer; one
  Hath crawl'd into the favour of the king, 1965
  And is his oracle.

• Duke of Norfolk. He is vex'd at something.

• Earl of Surrey. I would 'twere something that would fret the string,
  The master-cord on's heart!

[Enter KING HENRY VIII, reading of a schedule, and LOVELL]

• Duke of Suffolk. The king, the king!

• Henry VIII. What piles of wealth hath he accumulated
  To his own portion! and what expense by the hour
  Seems to flow from him! How, i' the name of thrift,
  Does he rake this together! Now, my lords, 1975
  Saw you the cardinal?

• Duke of Norfolk. My lord, we have
  Stood here observing him: some strange commotion
  Is in his brain: he bites his lip, and starts;
  Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground, 1980
  Then lays his finger on his temple, straight
  Springs out into fast gait; then stops again,
  Strikes his breast hard, and anon he casts
  His eye against the moon: in most strange postures
  We have seen him set himself. 1985

• Henry VIII. It may well be;
  There is a mutiny in's mind. This morning
  Papers of state he sent me to peruse,
  As I required: and wot you what I found
  There,—on my conscience, put unwittingly? 1990
  Forsooth, an inventory, thus importing;
  The several parcels of his plate, his treasure,
  Rich stuffs, and ornaments of household; which
  I find at such proud rate, that it out-speaks
  Possession of a subject. 1995

• Duke of Norfolk. It's heaven's will:
  Some spirit put this paper in the packet,
  To bless your eye withal.

• Henry VIII. If we did think
  His contemplation were above the earth, 2000
  And fix'd on spiritual object, he should still
  Dwell in his musings: but I am afraid
  His thinkings are below the moon, not worth
  His serious considering.
  [King HENRY VIII takes his seat; whispers LOVELL,] 2005
  who goes to CARDINAL WOLSEY]

• Cardinal Wolsey. Heaven forgive me!
  Ever God bless your highness!

• Henry VIII. Good my lord,
  You are full of heavenly stuff, and bear the inventory 2010
  Of your best graces in your mind; the which
  You were now running o'er: you have scarce time
  To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span
  To keep your earthly audit: sure, in that
  I deem you an ill husband, and am glad 2015
  To have you therein my companion.

• Cardinal Wolsey. Sir,
  For holy offices I have a time; a time
  To think upon the part of business which
  I bear i' the state; and nature does require 2020
  Her times of preservation, which perforce
  I, her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal,
  Must give my tendence to.

• Henry VIII. You have said well.

• Cardinal Wolsey. And ever may your highness yoke together, 2025
  As I will lend you cause, my doing well
  With my well saying!

• Henry VIII. 'Tis well said again;
  And 'tis a kind of good deed to say well:
  And yet words are no deeds. My father loved you: 2030
  His said he did; and with his deed did crown
  His word upon you. Since I had my office,
  I have kept you next my heart; have not alone
  Employ'd you where high profits might come home,
  But pared my present havings, to bestow 2035
  My bounties upon you.

• Cardinal Wolsey. [Aside] What should this mean?

• Earl of Surrey. [Aside] The Lord increase this business!

• Henry VIII. Have I not made you,
  The prime man of the state? I pray you, tell me, 2040
  If what I now pronounce you have found true:
  And, if you may confess it, say withal,
  If you are bound to us or no. What say you?

• Cardinal Wolsey. My sovereign, I confess your royal graces,
  Shower'd on me daily, have been more than could 2045
  My studied purposes requite; which went
  Beyond all man's endeavours: my endeavours
  Have ever come too short of my desires,
  Yet filed with my abilities: mine own ends
  Have been mine so that evermore they pointed 2050
  To the good of your most sacred person and
  The profit of the state. For your great graces
  Heap'd upon me, poor undeserver, I
  Can nothing render but allegiant thanks,
  My prayers to heaven for you, my loyalty, 2055
  Which ever has and ever shall be growing,
  Till death, that winter, kill it.

• Henry VIII. Fairly answer'd;
  A loyal and obedient subject is
  Therein illustrated: the honour of it 2060
  Does pay the act of it; as, i' the contrary,
  The foulness is the punishment. I presume
  That, as my hand has open'd bounty to you,
  My heart dropp'd love, my power rain'd honour, more
  On you than any; so your hand and heart, 2065
  Your brain, and every function of your power,
  Should, notwithstanding that your bond of duty,
  As 'twere in love's particular, be more
  To me, your friend, than any.

• Cardinal Wolsey. I do profess 2070
  That for your highness' good I ever labour'd
  More than mine own; that am, have, and will be—
  Though all the world should crack their duty to you,
  And throw it from their soul; though perils did
  Abound, as thick as thought could make 'em, and 2075
  Appear in forms more horrid,—yet my duty,
  As doth a rock against the chiding flood,
  Should the approach of this wild river break,
  And stand unshaken yours.

• Henry VIII. 'Tis nobly spoken: 2080
  Take notice, lords, he has a loyal breast,
  For you have seen him open't. Read o'er this;
  [Giving him papers]
  And after, this: and then to breakfast with
  What appetite you have. 2085
  [Exit KING HENRY VIII, frowning upon CARDINAL WOLSEY:]
  the Nobles throng after him, smiling and whispering]

• Cardinal Wolsey. What should this mean?
  What sudden anger's this? how have I reap'd it?
  He parted frowning from me, as if ruin 2090
  Leap'd from his eyes: so looks the chafed lion
  Upon the daring huntsman that has gall'd him;
  Then makes him nothing. I must read this paper;
  I fear, the story of his anger. 'Tis so;
  This paper has undone me: 'tis the account 2095
  Of all that world of wealth I have drawn together
  For mine own ends; indeed, to gain the popedom,
  And fee my friends in Rome. O negligence!
  Fit for a fool to fall by: what cross devil
  Made me put this main secret in the packet 2100
  I sent the king? Is there no way to cure this?
  No new device to beat this from his brains?
  I know 'twill stir him strongly; yet I know
  A way, if it take right, in spite of fortune
  Will bring me off again. What's this? 'To the Pope!' 2105
  The letter, as I live, with all the business
  I writ to's holiness. Nay then, farewell!
  I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness;
  And, from that full meridian of my glory,
  I haste now to my setting: I shall fall 2110
  Like a bright exhalation m the evening,
  And no man see me more.
  [Re-enter to CARDINAL WOLSEY, NORFOLK and SUFFOLK, SURREY,]
  and the Chamberlain]

• Duke of Norfolk. Hear the king's pleasure, cardinal: who commands you 2115
  To render up the great seal presently
  Into our hands; and to confine yourself
  To Asher House, my Lord of Winchester's,
  Till you hear further from his highness.

• Cardinal Wolsey. Stay: 2120
  Where's your commission, lords? words cannot carry
  Authority so weighty.

• Duke of Suffolk. Who dare cross 'em,
  Bearing the king's will from his mouth expressly?

• Cardinal Wolsey. Till I find more than will or words to do it, 2125
  I mean your malice, know, officious lords,
  I dare and must deny it. Now I feel
  Of what coarse metal ye are moulded, envy:
  How eagerly ye follow my disgraces,
  As if it fed ye! and how sleek and wanton 2130
  Ye appear in every thing may bring my ruin!
  Follow your envious courses, men of malice;
  You have Christian warrant for 'em, and, no doubt,
  In time will find their fit rewards. That seal,
  You ask with such a violence, the king, 2135
  Mine and your master, with his own hand gave me;
  Bade me enjoy it, with the place and honours,
  During my life; and, to confirm his goodness,
  Tied it by letters-patents: now, who'll take it?

• Earl of Surrey. The king, that gave it. 2140

• Cardinal Wolsey. It must be himself, then.

• Earl of Surrey. Thou art a proud traitor, priest.

• Cardinal Wolsey. Proud lord, thou liest:
  Within these forty hours Surrey durst better
  Have burnt that tongue than said so. 2145

• Earl of Surrey. Thy ambition,
  Thou scarlet sin, robb'd this bewailing land
  Of noble Buckingham, my father-in-law:
  The heads of all thy brother cardinals,
  With thee and all thy best parts bound together, 2150
  Weigh'd not a hair of his. Plague of your policy!
  You sent me deputy for Ireland;
  Far from his succor, from the king, from all
  That might have mercy on the fault thou gavest him;
  Whilst your great goodness, out of holy pity, 2155
  Absolved him with an axe.

• Cardinal Wolsey. This, and all else
  This talking lord can lay upon my credit,
  I answer is most false. The duke by law
  Found his deserts: how innocent I was 2160
  From any private malice in his end,
  His noble jury and foul cause can witness.
  If I loved many words, lord, I should tell you
  You have as little honesty as honour,
  That in the way of loyalty and truth 2165
  Toward the king, my ever royal master,
  Dare mate a sounder man than Surrey can be,
  And all that love his follies.

• Earl of Surrey. By my soul,
  Your long coat, priest, protects you; thou 2170
  shouldst feel
  My sword i' the life-blood of thee else. My lords,
  Can ye endure to hear this arrogance?
  And from this fellow? if we live thus tamely,
  To be thus jaded by a piece of scarlet, 2175
  Farewell nobility; let his grace go forward,
  And dare us with his cap like larks.

• Cardinal Wolsey. All goodness
  Is poison to thy stomach.

• Earl of Surrey. Yes, that goodness 2180
  Of gleaning all the land's wealth into one,
  Into your own hands, cardinal, by extortion;
  The goodness of your intercepted packets
  You writ to the pope against the king: your goodness,
  Since you provoke me, shall be most notorious. 2185
  My Lord of Norfolk, as you are truly noble,
  As you respect the common good, the state
  Of our despised nobility, our issues,
  Who, if he live, will scarce be gentlemen,
  Produce the grand sum of his sins, the articles 2190
  Collected from his life. I'll startle you
  Worse than the scaring bell, when the brown wench
  Lay kissing in your arms, lord cardinal.

• Cardinal Wolsey. How much, methinks, I could despise this man,
  But that I am bound in charity against it! 2195

• Duke of Norfolk. Those articles, my lord, are in the king's hand:
  But, thus much, they are foul ones.

• Cardinal Wolsey. So much fairer
  And spotless shall mine innocence arise,
  When the king knows my truth. 2200

• Earl of Surrey. This cannot save you:
  I thank my memory, I yet remember
  Some of these articles; and out they shall.
  Now, if you can blush and cry 'guilty,' cardinal,
  You'll show a little honesty. 2205

• Cardinal Wolsey. Speak on, sir;
  I dare your worst objections: if I blush,
  It is to see a nobleman want manners.

• Earl of Surrey. I had rather want those than my head. Have at you!
  First, that, without the king's assent or knowledge, 2210
  You wrought to be a legate; by which power
  You maim'd the jurisdiction of all bishops.

• Duke of Norfolk. Then, that in all you writ to Rome, or else
  To foreign princes, 'Ego et Rex meus'
  Was still inscribed; in which you brought the king 2215
  To be your servant.

• Duke of Suffolk. Then that, without the knowledge
  Either of king or council, when you went
  Ambassador to the emperor, you made bold
  To carry into Flanders the great seal. 2220

• Earl of Surrey. Item, you sent a large commission
  To Gregory de Cassado, to conclude,
  Without the king's will or the state's allowance,
  A league between his highness and Ferrara.

• Duke of Suffolk. That, out of mere ambition, you have caused 2225
  Your holy hat to be stamp'd on the king's coin.

• Earl of Surrey. Then that you have sent innumerable substance—
  By what means got, I leave to your own conscience—
  To furnish Rome, and to prepare the ways
  You have for dignities; to the mere undoing 2230
  Of all the kingdom. Many more there are;
  Which, since they are of you, and odious,
  I will not taint my mouth with.

• Lord Chamberlain. O my lord,
  Press not a falling man too far! 'tis virtue: 2235
  His faults lie open to the laws; let them,
  Not you, correct him. My heart weeps to see him
  So little of his great self.

• Earl of Surrey. I forgive him.

• Duke of Suffolk. Lord cardinal, the king's further pleasure is, 2240
  Because all those things you have done of late,
  By your power legatine, within this kingdom,
  Fall into the compass of a praemunire,
  That therefore such a writ be sued against you;
  To forfeit all your goods, lands, tenements, 2245
  Chattels, and whatsoever, and to be
  Out of the king's protection. This is my charge.

• Duke of Norfolk. And so we'll leave you to your meditations
  How to live better. For your stubborn answer
  About the giving back the great seal to us, 2250
  The king shall know it, and, no doubt, shall thank you.
  So fare you well, my little good lord cardinal.

[Exeunt all but CARDINAL WOLSEY]

• Cardinal Wolsey. So farewell to the little good you bear me.
  Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! 2255
  This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth
  The tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms,
  And bears his blushing honours thick upon him;
  The third day comes a frost, a killing frost,
  And, when he thinks, good easy man, full surely 2260
  His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root,
  And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured,
  Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders,
  This many summers in a sea of glory,
  But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride 2265
  At length broke under me and now has left me,
  Weary and old with service, to the mercy
  Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
  Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye:
  I feel my heart new open'd. O, how wretched 2270
  Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours!
  There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to,
  That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin,
  More pangs and fears than wars or women have:
  And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, 2275
  Never to hope again.
  [Enter CROMWELL, and stands amazed]
  Why, how now, Cromwell!

• Cromwell. I have no power to speak, sir.

• Cardinal Wolsey. What, amazed 2280
  At my misfortunes? can thy spirit wonder
  A great man should decline? Nay, an you weep,
  I am fall'n indeed.

• Cromwell. How does your grace?

• Cardinal Wolsey. Why, well; 2285
  Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell.
  I know myself now; and I feel within me
  A peace above all earthly dignities,
  A still and quiet conscience. The king has cured me,
  I humbly thank his grace; and from these shoulders, 2290
  These ruin'd pillars, out of pity, taken
  A load would sink a navy, too much honour:
  O, 'tis a burthen, Cromwell, 'tis a burthen
  Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven!

• Cromwell. I am glad your grace has made that right use of it. 2295

• Cardinal Wolsey. I hope I have: I am able now, methinks,
  Out of a fortitude of soul I feel,
  To endure more miseries and greater far
  Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer.
  What news abroad? 2300

• Cromwell. The heaviest and the worst
  Is your displeasure with the king.

• Cardinal Wolsey. God bless him!

• Cromwell. The next is, that Sir Thomas More is chosen
  Lord chancellor in your place. 2305

• Cardinal Wolsey. That's somewhat sudden:
  But he's a learned man. May he continue
  Long in his highness' favour, and do justice
  For truth's sake and his conscience; that his bones,
  When he has run his course and sleeps in blessings, 2310
  May have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on em! What more?

• Cromwell. That Cranmer is return'd with welcome,
  Install'd lord archbishop of Canterbury.

• Cardinal Wolsey. That's news indeed.

• Cromwell. Last, that the Lady Anne, 2315
  Whom the king hath in secrecy long married,
  This day was view'd in open as his queen,
  Going to chapel; and the voice is now
  Only about her coronation.

• Cardinal Wolsey. There was the weight that pull'd me down. O Cromwell, 2320
  The king has gone beyond me: all my glories
  In that one woman I have lost for ever:
  No sun shall ever usher forth mine honours,
  Or gild again the noble troops that waited
  Upon my smiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell; 2325
  I am a poor fall'n man, unworthy now
  To be thy lord and master: seek the king;
  That sun, I pray, may never set! I have told him
  What and how true thou art: he will advance thee;
  Some little memory of me will stir him— 2330
  I know his noble nature—not to let
  Thy hopeful service perish too: good Cromwell,
  Neglect him not; make use now, and provide
  For thine own future safety.

• Cromwell. O my lord, 2335
  Must I, then, leave you? must I needs forego
  So good, so noble and so true a master?
  Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron,
  With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord.
  The king shall have my service: but my prayers 2340
  For ever and for ever shall be yours.

• Cardinal Wolsey. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear
  In all my miseries; but thou hast forced me,
  Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman.
  Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell; 2345
  And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be,
  And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention
  Of me more must be heard of, say, I taught thee,
  Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory,
  And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour, 2350
  Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in;
  A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it.
  Mark but my fall, and that that ruin'd me.
  Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition:
  By that sin fell the angels; how can man, then, 2355
  The image of his Maker, hope to win by it?
  Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee;
  Corruption wins not more than honesty.
  Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace,
  To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not: 2360
  Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's,
  Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st,
  O Cromwell,
  Thou fall'st a blessed martyr! Serve the king;
  And,—prithee, lead me in: 2365
  There take an inventory of all I have,
  To the last penny; 'tis the king's: my robe,
  And my integrity to heaven, is all
  I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell!
  Had I but served my God with half the zeal 2370
  I served my king, he would not in mine age
  Have left me naked to mine enemies.

• Cromwell. Good sir, have patience.

• Cardinal Wolsey. So I have. Farewell
  The hopes of court! my hopes in heaven do dwell. 2375

[Exeunt]

Act IV, Scene 1

A street in Westminster.

[Enter two Gentlemen, meeting one another]

• First Gentleman. You're well met once again.

• Second Gentleman. So are you.

• First Gentleman. You come to take your stand here, and behold 2380
  The Lady Anne pass from her coronation?

• Second Gentleman. 'Tis all my business. At our last encounter,
  The Duke of Buckingham came from his trial.

• First Gentleman. 'Tis very true: but that time offer'd sorrow;
  This, general joy. 2385

• Second Gentleman. 'Tis well: the citizens,
  I am sure, have shown at full their royal minds—
  As, let 'em have their rights, they are ever forward—
  In celebration of this day with shows,
  Pageants and sights of honour. 2390

• First Gentleman. Never greater,
  Nor, I'll assure you, better taken, sir.

• Second Gentleman. May I be bold to ask at what that contains,
  That paper in your hand?

• First Gentleman. Yes; 'tis the list 2395
  Of those that claim their offices this day
  By custom of the coronation.
  The Duke of Suffolk is the first, and claims
  To be high-steward; next, the Duke of Norfolk,
  He to be earl marshal: you may read the rest. 2400

• Second Gentleman. I thank you, sir: had I not known those customs,
  I should have been beholding to your paper.
  But, I beseech you, what's become of Katharine,
  The princess dowager? how goes her business?

• First Gentleman. That I can tell you too. The Archbishop 2405
  Of Canterbury, accompanied with other
  Learned and reverend fathers of his order,
  Held a late court at Dunstable, six miles off
  From Ampthill where the princess lay; to which
  She was often cited by them, but appear'd not: 2410
  And, to be short, for not appearance and
  The king's late scruple, by the main assent
  Of all these learned men she was divorced,
  And the late marriage made of none effect
  Since which she was removed to Kimbolton, 2415
  Where she remains now sick.

• Second Gentleman. Alas, good lady!
  [Trumpets]
  The trumpets sound: stand close, the queen is coming.
  [Hautboys] 2420
  [THE ORDER OF THE CORONATION]
  1. A lively flourish of Trumpets.
  2. Then, two Judges.
  3. Lord Chancellor, with the purse and mace
  before him. 2425
  4. Choristers, singing.
  [Music]
  5. Mayor of London, bearing the mace. Then
  Garter, in his coat of arms, and on his
  head a gilt copper crown. 2430
  6. Marquess Dorset, bearing a sceptre of gold,
  on his head a demi-coronal of gold. With
  him, SURREY, bearing the rod of silver with
  the dove, crowned with an earl's coronet.
  Collars of SS. 2435
  7. SUFFOLK, in his robe of estate, his coronet
  on his head, bearing a long white wand, as
  high-steward. With him, NORFOLK, with the
  rod of marshalship, a coronet on his head.
  Collars of SS. 2440
  8. A canopy borne by four of the Cinque-ports;
  under it, QUEEN ANNE in her robe; in her hair
  richly adorned with pearl, crowned. On each
  side her, the Bishops of London and
  Winchester. 2445
  9. The old Duchess of Norfolk, in a coronal of
  gold, wrought with flowers, bearing QUEEN
  ANNE's train.
  10. Certain Ladies or Countesses, with plain
  circlets of gold without flowers. 2450

[They pass over the stage in order and state]

• Second Gentleman. A royal train, believe me. These I know:
  Who's that that bears the sceptre?

• First Gentleman. Marquess Dorset:
  And that the Earl of Surrey, with the rod. 2455

• Second Gentleman. A bold brave gentleman. That should be
  The Duke of Suffolk?

• First Gentleman. 'Tis the same: high-steward.

• Second Gentleman. And that my Lord of Norfolk?

• First Gentleman. Yes; 2460

• Second Gentleman. Heaven bless thee!
  [Looking on QUEEN ANNE]
  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, 2465
  And more and richer, when he strains that lady:
  I cannot blame his conscience.

• First Gentleman. They that bear
  The cloth of honour over her, are four barons
  Of the Cinque-ports. 2470

• Second Gentleman. Those men are happy; and so are all are near her.
  I take it, she that carries up the train
  Is that old noble lady, Duchess of Norfolk.

• First Gentleman. It is; and all the rest are countesses.

• Second Gentleman. Their coronets say so. These are stars indeed; 2475
  And sometimes falling ones.

• First Gentleman. No more of that.

[Exit procession, and then a great flourish of trumpets]

[Enter a third Gentleman]

• First Gentleman. God save you, sir! where have you been broiling? 2480

• Third Gentleman. Among the crowd i' the Abbey; where a finger
  Could not be wedged in more: I am stifled
  With the mere rankness of their joy.

• Second Gentleman. You saw
  The ceremony? 2485

• Third Gentleman. That I did.

• First Gentleman. How was it?

• Third Gentleman. Well worth the seeing.

• Second Gentleman. Good sir, speak it to us.

• Third Gentleman. As well as I am able. The rich stream 2490
  Of lords and ladies, having brought the queen
  To a prepared place in the choir, fell off
  A distance from her; while her grace sat down
  To rest awhile, some half an hour or so,
  In a rich chair of state, opposing freely 2495
  The beauty of her person to the people.
  Believe 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, 2500
  As loud, and to as many tunes: hats, cloaks—
  Doublets, I think,—flew up; and had their faces
  Been loose, this day they had been lost. Such joy
  I never saw before. Great-bellied women,
  That had not half a week to go, like rams 2505
  In the old time of war, would shake the press,
  And make 'em reel before 'em. No man living
  Could say 'This is my wife' there; all were woven
  So strangely in one piece.

• Second Gentleman. But, what follow'd? 2510

• Third Gentleman. At length her grace rose, and with modest paces
  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 2515
  She had all the royal makings of a queen;
  As holy oil, Edward Confessor's crown,
  The rod, and bird of peace, and all such emblems
  Laid nobly on her: which perform'd, the choir,
  With all the choicest music of the kingdom, 2520
  Together sung 'Te Deum.' So she parted,
  And with the same full state paced back again
  To York-place, where the feast is held.

• First Gentleman. Sir,
  You must no more call it York-place, that's past; 2525
  For, since the cardinal fell, that title's lost:
  'Tis now the king's, and call'd Whitehall.

• Third Gentleman. I know it;
  But 'tis so lately alter'd, that the old name
  Is fresh about me. 2530

• Second Gentleman. What two reverend bishops
  Were those that went on each side of the queen?

• Third Gentleman. Stokesly and Gardiner; the one of Winchester,
  Newly preferr'd from the king's secretary,
  The other, London. 2535

• Second Gentleman. He of Winchester
  Is held no great good lover of the archbishop's,
  The virtuous Cranmer.

• Third Gentleman. All the land knows that:
  However, yet there is no great breach; when it comes, 2540
  Cranmer will find a friend will not shrink from him.

• Second Gentleman. Who may that be, I pray you?

• Third Gentleman. Thomas Cromwell;
  A man in much esteem with the king, and truly
  A worthy friend. The king has made him master 2545
  O' the jewel house,
  And one, already, of the privy council.

• Second Gentleman. He will deserve more.

• Third Gentleman. Yes, without all doubt.
  Come, gentlemen, ye shall go my way, which 2550
  Is to the court, and there ye shall be my guests:
  Something I can command. As I walk thither,
  I'll tell ye more.

• Both. You may command us, sir.

[Exeunt]

Act IV, Scene 2

Kimbolton.

[Enter KATHARINE, Dowager, sick; led between] [p]GRIFFITH, her gentleman usher, and PATIENCE, her woman]

• Griffith. How does your grace?

• Queen Katharine. O Griffith, sick to death!
  My legs, like loaden branches, bow to the earth, 2560
  Willing to leave their burthen. 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 honour, Cardinal Wolsey, Was dead?

• Griffith. Yes, madam; but I think your grace, 2565
  Out of the pain you suffer'd, gave no ear to't.

• Queen Katharine. Prithee, good Griffith, tell me how he died:
  If well, he stepp'd before me, happily
  For my example.

• Griffith. Well, the voice goes, madam: 2570
  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. 2575

• Queen Katharine. Alas, poor man!

• Griffith. At last, with easy roads, he came to Leicester,
  Lodged in the abbey; where the reverend abbot,
  With all his covent, honourably received him;
  To whom he gave these words, 'O, father abbot, 2580
  An old man, broken with the storms of state,
  Is come to lay his weary bones among ye;
  Give him a little earth for charity!'
  So went to bed; where eagerly his sickness
  Pursued him still: and, three nights after this, 2585
  About the hour of eight, which he himself
  Foretold should be his last, full of repentance,
  Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows,
  He gave his honours to the world again,
  His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace. 2590

• Queen Katharine. 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, 2595
  Tied all the kingdom: simony was fair-play;
  His own opinion was his law: i' the presence
  He would say untruths; and be ever double
  Both in his words and meaning: he was never,
  But where he meant to ruin, pitiful: 2600
  His 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 in example.

• Griffith. Noble madam, 2605
  Men's evil manners live in brass; their virtues
  We write in water. May it please your highness
  To hear me speak his good now?

• Queen Katharine. Yes, good Griffith;
  I were malicious else. 2610

• Griffith. This cardinal,
  Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly
  Was fashion'd to much honour from his cradle.
  He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one;
  Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and persuading: 2615
  Lofty and sour to them that loved 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 2620
  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 famous,
  So excellent in art, and still so rising, 2625
  That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.
  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 honours to his age 2630
  Than man could give him, he died fearing God.

• Queen Katharine. After my death I wish no other herald,
  No other speaker of my living actions,
  To keep mine honour from corruption,
  But such an honest chronicler as Griffith. 2635
  Whom I most hated living, thou hast made me,
  With thy religious truth and modesty,
  Now in his ashes honour: peace be with him!
  Patience, be near me still; and set me lower:
  I have not long to trouble thee. Good Griffith, 2640
  Cause the musicians play me that sad note
  I named my knell, whilst I sit meditating
  On that celestial harmony I go to.

[Sad and solemn music]

• Griffith. She is asleep: good wench, let's sit down quiet, 2645
  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 garlands of bays, and golden
  vizards on their faces; branches of bays or palm in 2650
  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 reverent curtsies; then the two that held
  the garland deliver the same to the other next two, 2655
  who observe the same order in their changes, and
  holding the garland over her head: which done,
  they deliver the same garland to the last two, who
  likewise observe the same order: at which, as it
  were by inspiration, she makes in her sleep signs 2660
  of rejoicing, and holdeth up her hands to heaven:
  and so in their dancing vanish, carrying the
  garland with them. The music continues]

• Queen Katharine. Spirits of peace, where are ye? are ye all gone,
  And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye? 2665

• Griffith. Madam, we are here.

• Queen Katharine. It is not you I call for:
  Saw ye none enter since I slept?

• Griffith. None, madam.

• Queen Katharine. No? Saw you not, even now, a blessed troop 2670
  Invite me to a banquet; whose bright faces
  Cast thousand beams upon me, like the sun?
  They promised me eternal happiness;
  And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel
  I am not worthy yet to wear: I shall, assuredly. 2675

• Griffith. I am most joyful, madam, such good dreams
  Possess your fancy.

• Queen Katharine. Bid the music leave,
  They are harsh and heavy to me.

[Music ceases]

• Patience. 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 her eyes!

• Griffith. She is going, wench: pray, pray. 2685

• Patience. Heaven comfort her!

[Enter a Messenger]

• Messenger. An't like your grace,—

• Queen Katharine. You are a saucy fellow:
  Deserve we no more reverence? 2690

• Griffith. You are to blame,
  Knowing she will not lose her wonted greatness,
  To use so rude behavior; go to, kneel.

• Messenger. I humbly do entreat your highness' pardon;
  My haste made me unmannerly. There is staying 2695
  A gentleman, sent from the king, to see you.

• Queen Katharine. Admit him entrance, Griffith: but this fellow
  Let me ne'er see again.
  [Exeunt GRIFFITH and Messenger]
  [Re-enter GRIFFITH, with CAPUCIUS] 2700
  If my sight fail not,
  You should be lord ambassador from the emperor,
  My royal nephew, and your name Capucius.

• Capucius. Madam, the same; your servant.

• Queen Katharine. O, my lord, 2705
  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?

• Capucius. Noble lady,
  First mine own service to your grace; the next, 2710
  The king's request that I would visit you;
  Who grieves much for your weakness, and by me
  Sends you his princely commendations,
  And heartily entreats you take good comfort.

• Queen Katharine. O my good lord, that comfort comes too late; 2715
  'Tis like a pardon after execution:
  That gentle physic, given in time, had cured me;
  But now I am past an comforts here, but prayers.
  How does his highness?

• Capucius. Madam, in good health. 2720

• Queen Katharine. 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 caused you write, yet sent away?

• Patience. No, madam. 2725

[Giving it to KATHARINE]

• Queen Katharine. Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliver
  This to my lord the king.

• Capucius. Most willing, madam.

• Queen Katharine. In which I have commended to his goodness 2730
  The model of our chaste loves, his young daughter;
  The dews of heaven fall thick in blessings on her!
  Beseeching him to give her virtuous breeding—
  She is young, and of a noble modest nature,
  I hope she will deserve well,—and a little 2735
  To love her for her mother's sake, that loved him,
  Heaven knows how dearly. My next poor petition
  Is, that his noble grace would have some pity
  Upon my wretched women, that so long
  Have follow'd both my fortunes faithfully: 2740
  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,
  A right good husband, let him be a noble 2745
  And, sure, those men are happy that shall have 'em.
  The last is, for my men; they are the poorest,
  But poverty could never draw 'em from me;
  That they may have their wages duly paid 'em,
  And something over to remember me by: 2750
  If heaven had pleased 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, 2755
  Stand these poor people's friend, and urge the king
  To do me this last right.

• Capucius. By heaven, I will,
  Or let me lose the fashion of a man!

• Queen Katharine. I thank you, honest lord. Remember me 2760
  In all humility unto his highness:
  Say his long trouble now is passing
  Out of this world; tell him, in death I bless'd him,
  For so I will. Mine eyes grow dim. Farewell,
  My lord. Griffith, farewell. Nay, Patience, 2765
  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 honour: strew me over
  With maiden flowers, that all the world may know
  I was a chaste wife to my grave: embalm me, 2770
  Then lay me forth: although unqueen'd, yet like
  A queen, and daughter to a king, inter me.
  I can no more.

[Exeunt, leading KATHARINE]

Act V, Scene 1

London. A gallery in the palace.

[Enter GARDINER, Bishop of Winchester, a Page with a] [p]torch before him, met by LOVELL]

• Gardiner. It's one o'clock, boy, is't not?

• Page. It hath struck.

• Gardiner. These should be hours for necessities,
  Not for delights; times to repair our nature 2780
  With comforting repose, and not for us
  To waste these times. Good hour of night, Sir Thomas!
  Whither so late?

• Sir Thomas Lovell. Came you from the king, my lord

• Gardiner. I did, Sir Thomas: and left him at primero 2785
  With the Duke of Suffolk.

• Sir Thomas Lovell. I must to him too,
  Before he go to bed. I'll take my leave.

• Gardiner. Not yet, Sir Thomas Lovell. What's the matter?
  It seems you are in haste: an if there be 2790
  No great offence belongs to't, give your friend
  Some touch of your late business: affairs, that walk,
  As they say spirits do, at midnight, have
  In them a wilder nature than the business
  That seeks dispatch by day. 2795

• Sir Thomas Lovell. My lord, I love you;
  And durst commend a secret to your ear
  Much weightier than this work. The queen's in labour,
  They say, in great extremity; and fear'd
  She'll with the labour end. 2800

• Gardiner. The fruit she goes with
  I pray for heartily, that it may find
  Good time, and live: but for the stock, Sir Thomas,
  I wish it grubb'd up now.

• Sir Thomas Lovell. Methinks I could 2805
  Cry the amen; and yet my conscience says
  She's a good creature, and, sweet lady, does
  Deserve our better wishes.

• Gardiner. But, sir, sir,
  Hear me, Sir Thomas: you're a gentleman 2810
  Of mine own way; I know you wise, religious;
  And, let me tell you, it will ne'er be well,
  'Twill not, Sir Thomas Lovell, take't of me,
  Till Cranmer, Cromwell, her two hands, and she,
  Sleep in their graves. 2815

• Sir Thomas Lovell. Now, sir, you speak of two
  The most remark'd i' the kingdom. As for Cromwell,
  Beside that of the jewel house, is made master
  O' the rolls, and the king's secretary; further, sir,
  Stands in the gap and trade of moe preferments, 2820
  With which the time will load him. The archbishop
  Is the king's hand and tongue; and who dare speak
  One syllable against him?

• Gardiner. Yes, yes, Sir Thomas,
  There are that dare; and I myself have ventured 2825
  To speak my mind of him: and indeed this day,
  Sir, I may tell it you, I think I have
  Incensed the lords o' the council, that he is,
  For so I know he is, they know he is,
  A most arch heretic, a pestilence 2830
  That does infect the land: with which they moved
  Have broken with the king; who hath so far
  Given ear to our complaint, of his great grace
  And princely care foreseeing those fell mischiefs
  Our reasons laid before him, hath commanded 2835
  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
  I hinder you too long: good night, Sir Thomas.

• Sir Thomas Lovell. Many good nights, my lord: I rest your servant. 2840

[Exeunt GARDINER and Page]

[Enter KING HENRY VIII and SUFFOLK]

• Henry VIII. Charles, I will play no more tonight;
  My mind's not on't; you are too hard for me.

• Duke of Suffolk. Sir, I did never win of you before. 2845

• Henry VIII. But little, Charles;
  Nor shall not, when my fancy's on my play.
  Now, Lovell, from the queen what is the news?

• Sir Thomas Lovell. I could not personally deliver to her
  What you commanded me, but by her woman 2850
  I sent your message; who return'd her thanks
  In the great'st humbleness, and desired your highness
  Most heartily to pray for her.

• Henry VIII. What say'st thou, ha?
  To pray for her? what, is she crying out? 2855

• Sir Thomas Lovell. So said her woman; and that her sufferance made
  Almost each pang a death.

• Henry VIII. Alas, good lady!

• Duke of Suffolk. God safely quit her of her burthen, and
  With gentle travail, to the gladding of 2860
  Your highness with an heir!

• Henry VIII. 'Tis midnight, Charles;
  Prithee, to bed; and in thy prayers remember
  The estate of my poor queen. Leave me alone;
  For I must think of that which company 2865
  Would not be friendly to.

• Duke of Suffolk. I wish your highness
  A quiet night; and my good mistress will
  Remember in my prayers.

• Henry VIII. Charles, good night. 2870
  [Exit SUFFOLK]
  [Enter DENNY]
  Well, sir, what follows?

• Sir Anthony Denny. Sir, I have brought my lord the archbishop,
  As you commanded me. 2875

• Henry VIII. Ha! Canterbury?

• Sir Anthony Denny. Ay, my good lord.

• Henry VIII. 'Tis true: where is he, Denny?

• Sir Anthony Denny. He attends your highness' pleasure.

[Exit DENNY]

• Sir Thomas Lovell. [Aside] This is about that which the bishop spake:
  I am happily come hither.

[Re-enter DENNY, with CRANMER]

• Henry VIII. Avoid the gallery.
  [LOVELL seems to stay] 2885
  Ha! I have said. Be gone. What!

[Exeunt LOVELL and DENNY]

• Archbishop Cranmer. [Aside]
  I am fearful: wherefore frowns he thus?
  'Tis his aspect of terror. All's not well. 2890

• Henry VIII. How now, my lord! you desire to know
  Wherefore I sent for you.

• Archbishop Cranmer. [Kneeling] It is my duty
  To attend your highness' pleasure.

• Henry VIII. Pray you, arise, 2895
  My good and gracious Lord of Canterbury.
  Come, you and I must walk a turn together;
  I have news to tell you: come, come, give me your hand.
  Ah, my good lord, I grieve at what I speak,
  And am right sorry to repeat what follows 2900
  I have, and most unwillingly, of late
  Heard many grievous, I do say, my lord,
  Grievous complaints of you; which, being consider'd,
  Have moved us and our council, that you shall
  This morning come before us; where, I know, 2905
  You cannot with such freedom purge yourself,
  But that, till further trial in those charges
  Which will require your answer, you must take
  Your patience to you, and be well contented
  To make your house our Tower: you a brother of us, 2910
  It fits we thus proceed, or else no witness
  Would come against you.

• Archbishop Cranmer. [Kneeling]
  I humbly thank your highness;
  And am right glad to catch this good occasion 2915
  Most throughly to be winnow'd, where my chaff
  And corn shall fly asunder: for, I know,
  There's none stands under more calumnious tongues
  Than I myself, poor man.

• Henry VIII. Stand up, good Canterbury: 2920
  Thy truth and thy integrity is rooted
  In us, thy friend: give me thy hand, stand up:
  Prithee, let's walk. Now, by my holidame.
  What manner of man are you? My lord, I look'd
  You would have given me your petition, that 2925
  I should have ta'en some pains to bring together
  Yourself and your accusers; and to have heard you,
  Without indurance, further.

• Archbishop Cranmer. Most dread liege,
  The good I stand on is my truth and honesty: 2930
  If 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.

• Henry VIII. Know you not 2935
  How your state stands i' the world, with the whole world?
  Your enemies are many, and not small; their practises
  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 2940
  Might corrupt minds procure knaves as corrupt
  To swear against you? such things have been done.
  You are potently opposed; and with a malice
  Of as great size. Ween you of better luck,
  I mean, in perjured witness, than your master, 2945
  Whose minister you are, whiles here he lived
  Upon this naughty earth? Go to, go to;
  You take a precipice for no leap of danger,
  And woo your own destruction.

• Archbishop Cranmer. God and your majesty 2950
  Protect mine innocence, or I fall into
  The trap is laid for me!

• Henry VIII. Be of good cheer;
  They shall no more prevail than we give way to.
  Keep comfort to you; and this morning see 2955
  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 2960
  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 honour. God's blest mother!
  I swear he is true—hearted; and a soul 2965
  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. 2970

[Enter Old Lady, LOVELL following]

• Gentleman. [Within] Come back: what mean you?

• Old Lady. I'll not come back; the tidings that I bring
  Will make my boldness manners. Now, good angels
  Fly o'er thy royal head, and shade thy person 2975
  Under their blessed wings!

• Henry VIII. Now, by thy looks
  I guess thy message. Is the queen deliver'd?
  Say, ay; and of a boy.

• Old Lady. Ay, ay, my liege; 2980
  And of a lovely boy: the God of heaven
  Both now and ever bless her! 'tis a girl,
  Promises boys hereafter. Sir, your queen
  Desires your visitation, and to be
  Acquainted with this stranger 'tis as like you 2985
  As cherry is to cherry.

• Henry VIII. Lovell!

• Sir Thomas Lovell. Sir?

• Henry VIII. Give her an hundred marks. I'll to the queen.

[Exit]

• Old Lady. An hundred marks! By this light, I'll ha' more.
  An ordinary groom is for such payment.
  I will have more, or scold it out of him.
  Said I for this, the girl was like to him?
  I will have more, or else unsay't; and now, 2995
  While it is hot, I'll put it to the issue.

[Exeunt]

Act V, Scene 2

Before the council-chamber. Pursuivants, Pages, &c.

attending.

[Enter CRANMER]

• Archbishop Cranmer. I hope I am not too late; and yet the gentleman, 3000
  That was sent to me from the council, pray'd me
  To make great haste. All fast? what means this? Ho!
  Who waits there? Sure, you know me?

[Enter Keeper]

• Keeper. Yes, my lord; 3005
  But yet I cannot help you.

• Archbishop Cranmer. Why?

[Enter DOCTOR BUTTS]

• Keeper. Your grace must wait till you be call'd for.

• Archbishop Cranmer. So. 3010

• Doctor Butts. [Aside] This is a piece of malice. I am glad
  I came this way so happily: the king
  Shall understand it presently.

[Exit]

• Archbishop Cranmer. [Aside]. 'Tis Butts, 3015
  The king's physician: as he pass'd along,
  How earnestly he cast his eyes upon me!
  Pray heaven, he sound not my disgrace! For certain,
  This is of purpose laid by some that hate me—
  God turn their hearts! I never sought their malice— 3020
  To quench mine honour: they would shame to make me
  Wait else at door, a fellow-counsellor,
  'Mong boys, grooms, and lackeys. But their pleasures
  Must be fulfill'd, and I attend with patience.

[Enter the KING HENRY VIII and DOCTOR BUTTS at a window above]

• Doctor Butts. I'll show your grace the strangest sight—

• Henry VIII. What's that, Butts?

• Doctor Butts. I think your highness saw this many a day.

• Henry VIII. Body o' me, where is it?

• Doctor Butts. There, my lord: 3030
  The high promotion of his grace of Canterbury;
  Who holds his state at door, 'mongst pursuivants,
  Pages, and footboys.

• Henry VIII. Ha! 'tis he, indeed:
  Is this the honour they do one another? 3035
  'Tis well there's one above 'em yet. I had thought
  They had parted so much honesty among 'em
  At least, good manners, as not thus to suffer
  A man of his place, and so near our favour,
  To dance attendance on their lordships' pleasures, 3040
  And at the door too, like a post with packets.
  By holy Mary, Butts, there's knavery:
  Let 'em alone, and draw the curtain close:
  We shall hear more anon.

[Exeunt]

Act V, Scene 3

The Council-Chamber.

[Enter Chancellor; places himself at the upper end] [p]of the table on the left hand; a seat being left [p]void above him, as for CRANMER's seat. SUFFOLK, [p]NORFOLK, SURREY, Chamberlain, GARDINER, seat [p]themselves in order on each side. CROMWELL at [p]lower end, as secretary. Keeper at the door]

• Lord Chancellor. Speak to the business, master-secretary:
  Why are we met in council?

• Cromwell. Please your honours,
  The chief cause concerns his grace of Canterbury. 3055

• Gardiner. Has he had knowledge of it?

• Cromwell. Yes.

• Duke of Norfolk. Who waits there?

• Keeper. Without, my noble lords?

• Gardiner. Yes. 3060

• Keeper. My lord archbishop;
  And has done half an hour, to know your pleasures.

• Lord Chancellor. Let him come in.

• Keeper. Your grace may enter now.

[CRANMER enters and approaches the council-table]

• Lord Chancellor. My good lord archbishop, I'm very sorry
  To sit here at this present, and behold
  That chair stand empty: but we all are men,
  In our own natures frail, and capable
  Of our flesh; few are angels: out of which frailty 3070
  And want of wisdom, you, that best should teach us,
  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, 3075
  Divers and dangerous; which are heresies,
  And, not reform'd, may prove pernicious.

• Gardiner. Which reformation must be sudden too,
  My noble lords; for those that tame wild horses
  Pace 'em not in their hands to make 'em gentle, 3080
  But stop their mouths with stubborn bits, and spur 'em,
  Till they obey the manage. If we suffer,
  Out of our easiness and childish pity
  To one man's honour, this contagious sickness,
  Farewell all physic: and what follows then? 3085
  Commotions, uproars, with a general taint
  Of the whole state: as, of late days, our neighbours,
  The upper Germany, can dearly witness,
  Yet freshly pitied in our memories.

• Archbishop Cranmer. My good lords, hitherto, in all the progress 3090
  Both of my life and office, I have labour'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, 3095
  I speak it with a single heart, my lords,
  A man that more detests, more stirs against,
  Both in his private conscience and his place,
  Defacers of a public peace, than I do.
  Pray heaven, the king may never find a heart 3100
  With less allegiance in it! Men that make
  Envy and crooked malice nourishment
  Dare 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, 3105
  And freely urge against me.

• Duke of Suffolk. Nay, my lord,
  That cannot be: you are a counsellor,
  And, by that virtue, no man dare accuse you.

• Gardiner. My lord, because we have business of more moment, 3110
  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, 3115
  More than, I fear, you are provided for.

• Archbishop Cranmer. Ah, my good Lord of Winchester, I thank you;
  You are always my good friend; if your will pass,
  I shall both find your lordship judge and juror,
  You are so merciful: I see your end; 3120
  'Tis my undoing: love and meekness, lord,
  Become a churchman better than ambition:
  Win straying souls with modesty again,
  Cast none away. That I shall clear myself,
  Lay all the weight ye can upon my patience, 3125
  I make as little doubt, as you do conscience
  In doing daily wrongs. I could say more,
  But reverence to your calling makes me modest.

• Gardiner. My lord, my lord, you are a sectary,
  That's the plain truth: your painted gloss discovers, 3130
  To men that understand you, words and weakness.

• Cromwell. My Lord of Winchester, you are a little,
  By your good favour, too sharp; men so noble,
  However faulty, yet should find respect
  For what they have been: 'tis a cruelty 3135
  To load a falling man.

• Gardiner. Good master secretary,
  I cry your honour mercy; you may, worst
  Of all this table, say so.

• Cromwell. Why, my lord? 3140

• Gardiner. Do not I know you for a favourer
  Of this new sect? ye are not sound.

• Cromwell. Not sound?

• Gardiner. Not sound, I say.

• Cromwell. Would you were half so honest! 3145
  Men's prayers then would seek you, not their fears.

• Gardiner. I shall remember this bold language.

• Cromwell. Do.
  Remember your bold life too.

• Lord Chancellor. This is too much; 3150
  Forbear, for shame, my lords.

• Gardiner. I have done.

• Cromwell. And I.

• Lord Chancellor. Then thus for you, my lord: it stands agreed,
  I take it, by all voices, that forthwith 3155
  You be convey'd to the Tower a prisoner;
  There to remain till the king's further pleasure
  Be known unto us: are you all agreed, lords?

• All. We are.

• Archbishop Cranmer. Is there no other way of mercy, 3160
  But I must needs to the Tower, my lords?

• Gardiner. What other
  Would you expect? you are strangely troublesome.
  Let some o' the guard be ready there.

[Enter Guard]

• Archbishop Cranmer. For me?
  Must I go like a traitor thither?

• Gardiner. Receive him,
  And see him safe i' the Tower.

• Archbishop Cranmer. Stay, good my lords, 3170
  I have a little yet to say. Look there, my lords;
  By virtue of that ring, I take my cause
  Out of the gripes of cruel men, and give it
  To a most noble judge, the king my master.

• Lord Chamberlain. This is the king's ring. 3175

• Earl of Surrey. 'Tis no counterfeit.

• Duke of Suffolk. 'Tis the right ring, by heaven: I told ye all,
  When ye first put this dangerous stone a-rolling,
  'Twould fall upon ourselves.

• Duke of Norfolk. Do you think, my lords, 3180
  The king will suffer but the little finger
  Of this man to be vex'd?

• Lord Chancellor. 'Tis now too certain:
  How much more is his life in value with him?
  Would I were fairly out on't! 3185

• Cromwell. My mind gave me,
  In seeking tales and informations
  Against this man, whose honesty the devil
  And his disciples only envy at,
  Ye blew the fire that burns ye: now have at ye! 3190

[Enter KING, frowning on them; takes his seat]

• Gardiner. Dread sovereign, how much are we bound to heaven
  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 3195
  The chief aim of his honour; 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.

• Henry VIII. You were ever good at sudden commendations, 3200
  Bishop of Winchester. But know, I come not
  To hear such flattery now, and in my presence;
  They are too thin and bare to hide offences.
  To me you cannot reach, you play the spaniel,
  And think with wagging of your tongue to win me; 3205
  But, whatsoe'er thou takest me for, I'm sure
  Thou hast a cruel nature and a bloody.
  [To CRANMER]
  Good man, sit down. Now let me see the proudest
  He, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee: 3210
  By all that's holy, he had better starve
  Than but once think this place becomes thee not.

• Earl of Surrey. May it please your grace,—

• Henry VIII. No, sir, it does not please me.
  I had thought I had had men of some understanding 3215
  And wisdom of my council; but I find none.
  Was it discretion, lords, to let this man,
  This good man,—few of you deserve that title,—
  This honest man, wait like a lousy footboy
  At chamber—door? and one as great as you are? 3220
  Why, what a shame was this! Did my commission
  Bid ye so far forget yourselves? I gave ye
  Power as he was a counsellor to try him,
  Not as a groom: there's some of ye, I see,
  More out of malice than integrity, 3225
  Would try him to the utmost, had ye mean;
  Which ye shall never have while I live.

• Lord Chancellor. Thus far,
  My most dread sovereign, may it like your grace
  To let my tongue excuse all. What was purposed 3230
  Concerning his imprisonment, was rather,
  If there be faith in men, meant for his trial,
  And fair purgation to the world, than malice,
  I'm sure, in me.

• Henry VIII. Well, well, my lords, respect him; 3235
  Take him, and use him well, he's worthy of it.
  I will say thus much for him, if a prince
  May be beholding to a subject, I
  Am, for his love and service, so to him.
  Make me no more ado, but all embrace him: 3240
  Be friends, for shame, my lords! My Lord of
  Canterbury,
  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. 3245

• Archbishop Cranmer. The greatest monarch now alive may glory
  In such an honour: how may I deserve it
  That am a poor and humble subject to you?

• Henry VIII. Come, come, my lord, you'ld spare your spoons: you
  shall have two noble partners with you; the old 3250
  Duchess of Norfolk, and Lady Marquess Dorset: will
  these please you?
  Once more, my Lord of Winchester, I charge you,
  Embrace and love this man.

• Gardiner. With a true heart 3255
  And brother-love I do it.

• Archbishop Cranmer. And let heaven
  Witness, how dear I hold this confirmation.

• Henry VIII. Good man, those joyful tears show thy true heart:
  The common voice, I see, is verified 3260
  Of thee, which says thus, 'Do my Lord of Canterbury
  A shrewd turn, and he is your friend for ever.'
  Come, lords, we trifle time away; I long
  To have this young one made a Christian.
  As I have made ye one, lords, one remain; 3265
  So I grow stronger, you more honour gain.

[Exeunt]

Act V, Scene 4

The palace yard.

[Noise and tumult within. Enter Porter and his Man]

• Porter. You'll leave your noise anon, ye rascals: do you
  take the court for Paris-garden? ye rude slaves, 3270
  leave your gaping.
  [Within]
  Good master porter, I belong to the larder.

• Porter. Belong to the gallows, and be hanged, ye rogue! is
  this a place to roar in? Fetch me a dozen crab-tree 3275
  staves, and strong ones: these are but switches to
  'em. I'll scratch your heads: you must be seeing
  christenings? do you look for ale and cakes here,
  you rude rascals?

• Man. Pray, sir, be patient: 'tis as much impossible— 3280
  Unless we sweep 'em from the door with cannons—
  To scatter 'em, as 'tis to make 'em sleep
  On May-day morning; which will never be:
  We may as well push against Powle's, as stir em.

• Porter. How got they in, and be hang'd? 3285

• Man. Alas, I know not; how gets the tide in?
  As much as one sound cudgel of four foot—
  You see the poor remainder—could distribute,
  I made no spare, sir.

• Porter. You did nothing, sir. 3290

• Man. I am not Samson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colbrand,
  To mow 'em down before me: but if I spared any
  That had a head to hit, either young or old,
  He or she, cuckold or cuckold-maker,
  Let me ne'er hope to see a chine again 3295
  And that I would not for a cow, God save her!
  [Within]
  Do you hear, master porter?

• Porter. I shall be with you presently, good master puppy.
  Keep the door close, sirrah. 3300

• Man. What would you have me do?

• Porter. What should you do, but knock 'em down by the
  dozens? Is this Moorfields to muster in? or have
  we some strange Indian with the great tool come to
  court, the women so besiege us? Bless me, what a 3305
  fry of fornication is at door! On my Christian
  conscience, this one christening will beget a
  thousand; here will be father, godfather, and all together.

• Man. The spoons will be the bigger, sir. There is a
  fellow somewhat near the door, he should be a 3310
  brazier by his face, for, o' my conscience, twenty
  of the dog-days now reign in's nose; all that stand
  about him are under the line, they need no other
  penance: that fire-drake did I hit three times on
  the head, and three times was his nose discharged 3315
  against me; he stands there, like a mortar-piece, to
  blow us. There was a haberdasher's wife of small
  wit near him, that railed upon me till her pinked
  porringer fell off her head, for kindling such a
  combustion in the state. I missed the meteor once, 3320
  and hit that woman; who cried out 'Clubs!' when I
  might see from far some forty truncheoners draw to
  her succor, which were the hope o' the Strand, where
  she was quartered. They fell on; I made good my
  place: at length they came to the broom-staff to 3325
  me; I defied 'em still: when suddenly a file of
  boys behind 'em, loose shot, delivered such a shower
  of pebbles, that I was fain to draw mine honour in,
  and let 'em win the work: the devil was amongst
  'em, I think, surely. 3330

• Porter. These are the youths that thunder at a playhouse,
  and fight for bitten apples; that no audience, but
  the tribulation of Tower-hill, or the limbs of
  Limehouse, their dear brothers, are able to endure.
  I have some of 'em in Limbo Patrum, and there they 3335
  are like to dance these three days; besides the
  running banquet of two beadles that is to come.

[Enter Chamberlain]

• Lord Chamberlain. Mercy o' me, what a multitude are here!
  They grow still too; from all parts they are coming, 3340
  As if we kept a fair here! Where are these porters,
  These lazy knaves? Ye have made a fine hand, fellows:
  There's a trim rabble let in: are all these
  Your faithful friends o' the suburbs? We shall have
  Great store of room, no doubt, left for the ladies, 3345
  When they pass back from the christening.

• Porter. An't please
  your honour,
  We are but men; and what so many may do,
  Not being torn a-pieces, we have done: 3350
  An army cannot rule 'em.

• Lord Chamberlain. As I live,
  If the king blame me for't, I'll lay ye all
  By the heels, and suddenly; and on your heads
  Clap round fines for neglect: ye are lazy knaves; 3355
  And here ye lie baiting of bombards, when
  Ye should do service. Hark! the trumpets sound;
  They're come already from the christening:
  Go, break among the press, and find a way out
  To let the troop pass fairly; or I'll find 3360
  A Marshalsea shall hold ye play these two months.

• Porter. Make way there for the princess.

• Man. You great fellow,
  Stand close up, or I'll make your head ache.

• Porter. You i' the camlet, get up o' the rail; 3365
  I'll peck you o'er the pales else.

[Exeunt]

Act V, Scene 5

The palace.

[Enter trumpets, sounding; then two Aldermen, Lord] [p]Mayor, Garter, CRANMER, NORFOLK with his marshal's [p]staff, SUFFOLK, two Noblemen bearing great [p]standing-bowls for the christening-gifts; then [p]four Noblemen bearing a canopy, under which the [p]Duchess of Norfolk, godmother, bearing the child [p]richly habited in a mantle, &c., train borne by a [p]Lady; then follows the Marchioness Dorset, the [p]other godmother, and Ladies. The troop pass once [p]about the stage, and Garter speaks]

• Garter. Heaven, from thy endless goodness, send prosperous
  life, long, and ever happy, to the high and mighty
  princess of England, Elizabeth! 3380

[Flourish. Enter KING HENRY VIII and Guard]

• Archbishop Cranmer. [Kneeling] And to your royal grace, and the good queen,
  My noble partners, and myself, thus pray:
  All comfort, joy, in this most gracious lady,
  Heaven ever laid up to make parents happy, 3385
  May hourly fall upon ye!

• Henry VIII. Thank you, good lord archbishop:
  What is her name?

• Archbishop Cranmer. Elizabeth.

• Henry VIII. Stand up, lord. 3390
  [KING HENRY VIII kisses the child]
  With this kiss take my blessing: God protect thee!
  Into whose hand I give thy life.

• Archbishop Cranmer. Amen.

• Henry VIII. My noble gossips, ye have been too prodigal: 3395
  I thank ye heartily; so shall this lady,
  When she has so much English.

• Archbishop Cranmer. Let me speak, sir,
  For heaven now bids me; and the words I utter
  Let none think flattery, for they'll find 'em truth. 3400
  This royal infant—heaven still move about her!—
  Though in her cradle, yet now promises
  Upon this land a thousand thousand blessings,
  Which time shall bring to ripeness: she shall be—
  But few now living can behold that goodness— 3405
  A pattern to all princes living with her,
  And all that shall succeed: Saba was never
  More covetous of wisdom and fair virtue
  Than this pure soul shall be: all princely graces,
  That mould up such a mighty piece as this is, 3410
  With all the virtues that attend the good,
  Shall still be doubled on her: truth shall nurse her,
  Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her:
  She shall be loved and fear'd: her own shall bless her;
  Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn, 3415
  And hang their heads with sorrow: good grows with her:
  In her days every man shall eat in safety,
  Under his own vine, what he plants; and sing
  The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours:
  God shall be truly known; and those about her 3420
  From her shall read the perfect ways of honour,
  And by those claim their greatness, not by blood.
  Nor shall this peace sleep with her: but as when
  The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phoenix,
  Her ashes new create another heir, 3425
  As great in admiration as herself;
  So shall she leave her blessedness to one,
  When heaven shall call her from this cloud of darkness,
  Who from the sacred ashes of her honour
  Shall star-like rise, as great in fame as she was, 3430
  And so stand fix'd: peace, plenty, love, truth, terror,
  That were the servants to this chosen infant,
  Shall then be his, and like a vine grow to him:
  Wherever the bright sun of heaven shall shine,
  His honour and the greatness of his name 3435
  Shall be, and make new nations: he shall flourish,
  And, like a mountain cedar, reach his branches
  To all the plains about him: our children's children
  Shall see this, and bless heaven.

• Henry VIII. Thou speakest wonders. 3440

• Archbishop Cranmer. She shall be, to the happiness of England,
  An aged princess; many days shall see her,
  And yet no day without a deed to crown it.
  Would I had known no more! but she must die,
  She must, the saints must have her; yet a virgin, 3445
  A most unspotted lily shall she pass
  To the ground, and all the world shall mourn her.

• Henry VIII. O lord archbishop,
  Thou hast made me now a man! never, before
  This happy child, did I get any thing: 3450
  This oracle of comfort has so pleased me,
  That when I am in heaven I shall desire
  To see what this child does, and praise my Maker.
  I thank ye all. To you, my good lord mayor,
  And your good brethren, I am much beholding; 3455
  I have received much honour by your presence,
  And ye shall find me thankful. Lead the way, lords:
  Ye must all see the queen, and she must thank ye,
  She will be sick else. This day, no man think
  Has business at his house; for all shall stay: 3460
  This little one shall make it holiday.
  [Exeunt]
  EPILOGUE

• Chorus. 'Tis ten to one this play can never please
  All that are here: some come to take their ease, 3465
  And sleep an act or two; but those, we fear,
  We have frighted with our trumpets; so, 'tis clear,
  They'll say 'tis naught: others, to hear the city
  Abused extremely, and to cry 'That's witty!'
  Which we have not done neither: that, I fear, 3470
  All the expected good we're like to hear
  For this play at this time, is only in
  The merciful construction of good women;
  For such a one we show'd 'em: if they smile,
  And say 'twill do, I know, within a while 3475
  All the best men are ours; for 'tis ill hap,
  If they hold when their ladies bid 'em clap.