I have no spleen against you; nor injustice
For you, or any: how far I have proceeded,
Or how far further shall, is warranted spot
By a commission from the consistory,
Yea, the whole consistory of Rome. You charge
That I have blown this coal: I de deny it: [me,
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
As you have done my truth. But, 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 be-
His highness shall speak in, I do beseech
You, gracious madam, to unthink your speaking,
And to say no more.

Q. Kath. My lord, my lord,

I am a simple woman, much too weak

[fore

Of all these years, (for where I am robbi and bound,

There must I be unloos'd; 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 spot
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, might
Be to the prejudice of her present state,
Or touch of her good person?

K. Hen. 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,
Bark when their fellows do: by some of these
The queen is put in anger You are excus'd:
But will you be more justified? you ever

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.
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,
You tender more your person's honour, than
Your high profession spiritual: That again
I do refuse you for my judge; and here o
Before you all, appeal unto the pope,
To bring my whole cause 'fore his holiness,
And to be judg'd by him.

Grif. Madam, you are call'd back.or subou y Q. Kath. What need you note it? pray you, keep your way: ww

When you are call'd return.- -Now the Lord help,
They vex me past my patience!-pray you, pass
I will not tarry; no, nor ever more, Lon:
Upon this business, my appearance make
In any of their courts.com
[ereunt Queen, Griffith, and her other Attendants.
K. Hen. Go by ways, Kate:

That n,ap 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,
(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 is noble born;
And, like her true nobility, she has
Carried, herself towards me.

Wol. Most gracious sir,

In humblest manner I require your highness, That it shall please you to declare, in hearing

Desir'd it to be stirr'd; but oft have hinder'd; oft
The passages made toward it:- -on my honour,
I speak my good lord cardinal to this point,
And thus far clear him. Now, what mov'd me
sconto't,-

I will be bold with time, and your attention:-
Then mark the inducement. Thus it came;—

give heed to't:

[ness,

My conscience first receiv'd a tenderness,
Scruple, and prick, on certain speeches utter'd
By the bishop of Bayonne, then French ambassa-
Who had been hither sent on the debating [der;
A marriage, 'twixt the duke of Orleans and
Our daughter Mary: I'the progress of this busi-
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,
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 forc'd such way,
That many maz'd 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 not conceiv'd a male child by me, should
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,
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.
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,-
By all the reverend fathers of the land,
And doctors learn'd. First, I began in private

The question did at first so stagger me,-
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.

K. Hen. I then mov'd 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,
Under your hands and seals. Therefore, go on :
For no dislike i'the world against the person

Orpheus with his lute made trees,
And the mountain tops, that freeze,
Bow themselves, when he did sing:
To his music, plants, and flowers,
Ever sprung; as sun, and showers,
There had been a lasting spring.

Every thing that heard him play,
Even the billows of the sea,

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.

Q. Kath. How now?

Gent. An't please your grace, the two great Wait in the presence.

[cardinals

Q. Kath. Would they speak with me? Gent. They will'd me say so, Madam. Q. Kath. Pray their graces [business To come near. [exit Gent.] What can be their With me, a poor weak woman, fall'n from favour? I do not like their coming, now I think on't. They should be good men; their affairs as rightBut all hoods make not monks. [eous:

Enter Wolsey and Campeius. Wol. Peace to your highness! [housewife; Q. Kath. Your graces find me here part of a I would be all, against the worst may happen. What are your pleasures with me, reverend lords? Wol. May it please you, noble madam, to

withdraw

Into your private chamber, we shall give you
The full cause of our coming.

Q. Kath. Speak it here;
There's nothing I have done yet, o'my conecience,
Deserves a corner: 'would, all other women
Could speak this with as free a soul as I do!
My. lords, I care not, (so much I am happy
vye a number,) if my actions

Of the good queen, but the sharp thorny pointo
Of my alleged reasons, drive this forward:
Prove but our marriage lawful, by my life,
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.

Cam. So please your highness,

The queen being absent, 'tis a needful fitness
That we adjourn this court till further day:
Mean while must be an earnest motion
Made to the queen, to call back her appeal
She intends unto his holiness. [they rise to depart.
K. Hen. I may perceive,
[aside

These cardinals trifle with me: 1 abhor
This dilatory sloth, and tricks of Rome,
My learn'd and well-beloved servant, Cranmer,
Pr'ythee return! with thy approach, I know,
My comfort comes along. Break up the court:
I say, set on. [exeunt, in manner as they entered.
III.

Were tried by every tongue, every eye saw them
Envy and base opinion set against them,

I know my life so even if your business
Seek me out, aud that way I am wife in,
Out with it boldly: Truth loves open dealing.
Wol. Tanta est ergà te mentis integritas regina
serenissima,-

Q. Kath. O, good my lord, no Latin:

I am not such a truant since my coming
As not to know the language I have liv'd in:
A strange tongue makes my cause more strange,

suspicious:

[you,

Pray, speak in English: here are some will thank If you speak truth, for their poor mistress' sake; Believe me, she has had much wrong: lord cardiThe willing'st sin I ever yet committed. [nal, May be absolved in English.

Wol. Noble lady,

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;
Not 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,
And comforts to your cause.

Cam. 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 censui e
Both of his truth and him, (which was too far,)
Offers, as I do, in a sign of peace,

His service and his counsel.

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
Let me have time, and counsel, for my cause;
Alas! I am a woman, friendless, hopeless.

Wol. Madam, you wrong the king's love with Your hopes and friends are infinite. [these fears; Q. Kath. In England,

But little for my profit: can you think, lords,
That any Englishman dare give me counsel?
Or be a known friend, 'gainst his highness'

Q. Kath. Ye tell me what ye wish for both, Is this your Christian counsel? out upon ye! Heaven is above all yet; there sits a Judge, That no king can corrupt.

Cam. Your rage mistakes us. [thought ye, Q. Kath. The more shame for ye; holy men I Upon my soul, two reverend cardinal virtues : But cardinal sins, and hollow hearts, I fear ye: Mend them, 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,
I have more charity: but say, I warn'd ye;
Take heed, for heaven's sake, take heed, lest atonce
The burden of my sorrows fall upon ye.

Wol. Madam, this is a mere distraction;
You turn the good we offer into envy. [upon ye,
Q. Kath. Ye turn me into nothing: Woe
And all such false professors! Would ye 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? Alas! he has banish'd me his bed already; His love, too long ago: I am old, my lords, And all the fellowship I hold now with him, Is only my obedience. What can happen

To me above this wretchedness? all your studie, Make me a curse like this.

Cam. Your fears are worse.

[myself,

Q. Kath. Have I liv'd thus long-(let me speak Since virtue finds no friends,)—a wife, a true one? A woman (I dare say, without vain-glory,) Never yet branded with suspicion? Have I with all my full affections Still met the king? lov'd him next heaven? obey'd Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him? Almost forgot my prayers to content him?

[him?

Wol. 'Pray, hear me.

[earth,

Q. Kath. 'Would I had never trod this English Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it! [hearts. Ye have angels' faces, but heaven knows your What will become of me now, wretched lady? I am the most unhappy woman living.— Alas! poor wenches, where are now your fortunes? [to her Women. Shipwreck'd upon a kingdom, where no pity, No friends, no hope; no kindred weep for me, 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.

Wol. If your grace

Could but be brought to know, our ends are
honest,
[lady,
You'd feel more comfort: why should we, good
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 them.
For goodness' sake, consider what you do;
How you may hurt yourself, ay, utterly
Grow from the king's acquaintance, by this
The hearts of princes kiss obedience, [carriage.
So much they love it; but to stubborn spirits,
They swell, and grow as terrible as storms.
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 ser
[your virtues
Cam. Madam, you'll find it so.
You wrong
With these weak women's fears. A noble spirit,
As yours was put into you, ever casts [you;
Such doubts, as false coin, from it. The king loves
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.

vants.

Q. Cath. Do what ye will, my lords: and, pray, forgive me,

If I have us'd 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:

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.

SCENE II.

[exeunt.

ANTECHAMBER TO THE KING'S APART

MENT.

Enter the Duke of Norfolk, the Duke of Suffolk, the Earl of Surrey, and the Lord Chamberlain.

Nor. If you will now unite in your complaints

And force them with a constancy, the cardinal
Cannot stand under them: if you omit
The offer of this time, I cannot promise,
But that you shall sustain more new disgraces,
With these you bear already.

Surrey. I am joyful

To meet the least occasion, that may give me Remembrance of my father-in-law, the duke, To be reveng'd on him.

Suff. Which of the peers

Have uncontemn'd gone by him, or at leas
Strangely neglected? when did he regard
The stamp of nobleness in any person,
Out of himself?

Cham. 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
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 his tongue.

Nor. O, fear him not;

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,

Suff. Believe it.

Surrey. Will this work?

[exit Cromwell.

Wol. Leave me awhile..

The French king's sister: he shall marry her——
Anne Bullen! No; I'll no Anne Bullen's for him:
There is more in it than fair visage.-Bullen!
No, we'll no Bullens. Speedily I wish

To hear from Rome.-The marchioness of Pem-
Nor. He's discontented.
with [broke!
Suff. May be, he hears the king
Does whet his anger to him.
Surrey. Sharp enough,
Lord, for thy justice!

[daughter,

Wol. The late queen's gentlewoman: a knight's 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 1 know her virtuous,

And well-deserving? yet I know her for
A spleeny Lutheran; and not whol come to

1

Our cause, that she should lie i'the bosom of
Our hard-rul'd king. Again, there is sprung up
An heretic, an arch one, Cranmer; one
Hath crawl'd into the favour of the king,
And is his oracle.

Nor. He is vex'd at something.

As I will lend you cause, my doing well With my well saying!

K. Hen. 'Tis well said again;

And 'tis a kind of good deed, to say well:

fret the string,

The master-cord of his heart?

Enter the King, reading a schedule; and Lovell. Suff. The king, the king.

K. Hen. What piles of wealth hath he accumulated

[hour To his own portion! and what expense by the Seems to flow from him! How, i'the name of thrift, Does he rake this together?—Now, my lords; Saw you the cardinal?

Nor. My lord, we have

[tion

Stood here observing him: Some strange commo-
Is in his brain: he bites his lip, and starts:
Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground,
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 pos-
We have seen him set himself.
[tures

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

Nor. It's heaven's will;

Some spirit put this paper in the packet,
To bless your eye withal.

K. Hen. If we did think

His contemplation were above the earth,
And fix'd on spiritual object, he should still
Dwell in his musings: but, I am afraid, he
His thinkings are below the moon, not worth
His serious considering.

I have kept you next my heart; have not alone
Employ'd you where high profits might come home,
But par'd my present havings, to bestow
My bounties upon you.

Wol. What should this mean?

Surrey. The Lord increase this business! [aside
K. Hen. Have I not made you

The prime man of the state? I pray you, tell me,
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?
Wol. My sovereign, I confess, your royal

graces

Shower'd on me daily, have been more than could
My studied purposes requite; which went
Beyond all man's endeavours:-My endeavours
Have ever come too short of my desires,
Yet, fil'd with my abilities: Mine own ends
Have been mine so, that evermore they pointed
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,
Which ever has, and ever shall be growing,
Till death, that winter, kill it.

K. Hen. Fairly answer'd;

A loyal and obedient subject is

Therein illustrated: The honour of it
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

Wol. Heaven forgive me!

Ever God bless your highness !

K. Hen. Good, my lord,

[tory

You are full of heavenly stuff, and bear the inven-
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
To have you therein my companion.
Wol. 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
Her times of preservation, which, perforce,
I, her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal,
Must give my tendance to.

K. Hen. You have said well.

Wol. And ever may your highness yoke together,

Wol. I do profess,

That for your highness' good I ever labour'd More than mine own; that amn, have, and will be. Though all the world should crack their duty to

And throw it from their soul: though perils did
Abound, as thick as thought could make them, and
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.

K. Hen. 'Tis nobly spoken;
Take notice, lords, he has a loyal breast,
For you have seen him open't.-Read o'er this;
[gives him papers.
And, after, this; and then to breakfast, with
What appetite you have.

[exit King, frowning upon Cardinal Wolsey: the Nobles throng after him, smiling, and whispering.