3 Gent. Well worth the seeing.
2 Gent.
Good sir, speak it to us.
3 Gent. As well as I am able. The rich stream
Of lords, and ladies, having brought the queen
To a prepar'd place in the choir, fell off
A distance from her; while her grace sat down
To rest a while, some half an hour, or so,
In a rich chair of state, opposing freely
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,
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
In the old time of war, would shake the press,
And make them reel before them. No man living
Could say, This is my wife, there; all were woven
So strangely in one piece.
But, pray, what follow'd?
3 Gent. At length her grace rose, and with
modest paces
[like,
Came to the altar; where she kneel'd, and, saint-
Cast her fair eyes to heaven, and pray'd devoutly.
Then rose again, and bow'd her to the people:
When by the archbishop of Canterbury
She had all the royal makings of a queen;
As holy oil, Edward 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 musick of the kingdom,
Together sung Te Deum. So she parted,
And with the same full state pac'd back again,
To York Place, where the feast is held.
1 Gent.
Sir, you
Must no more call it York Place, that is past:
For, since the cardinal fell, that title's lost;
'Tis now the king's, and call'd-Whitehall.
3 Gent.
I know it;
But 'tis so lately altered, that the old name
Is fresh about me.
2 Gent.
What two reverend bishops
Were those that went on each side of the queen?
3 Gent. Stokesly and Gardiner; the one, of
Winchester
(Newly preferr'd from the king's secretary),
The other, London.
He of Winchester
Is held no great good lover of the archbishop's,
The virtuous Cranmer.
3 Gent.
All the land knows that:
However, yet there's no great breach; when it
comes,
[him.
Cranmer will find a friend will not shrink from
2 Gent. Who may that be, I pray you?
3 Gent.
Thomas Cromwell;
A man in much esteem with the king, and truly
A worthy friend. The king
Has made him master o' the jewel-house,
And one, already, of the privy council.
2 Gent. He will deserve more.
3 Gent.
Yes, without all doubt.
Come, gentlemen, ye shall go my way, which
Is to the court, and there ye shall be my guests;
Something I can command. As I walk thither,
I'll tell ye more.
Enter KATHARINE, Dowager, sick; led between
GRIFFITH and PATIENCE.
Grif. How does your grace?
Kath.
O, Griffith, sick to death:
My legs, like loaden branches, bow to the earth,
Willing to leave their burden: Reach a chair;—
So, now, methinks, I feel a little ease.
Didst thou not tell me,Griffith,as thou led'st me,
That the great child of honour, cardinal Wolsey,
Was dead?
Grif. Yes, madam; but, I think, your grace,
Out of the pain you suffer'd, gave no ear to't.
Kath. Pr'ythee good Griffith, tell me how he
If well, he stepp'd before me, happily, [died:
For my example.
Grif.
Well, the voice goes, madam:
For after the stout Earl Northumberland
Arrested him at York, and brought him forward
(As a man sorely tainted) to his answer,
He fell sick suddenly, and grew so ill,
He could not sit his mule.
Kath.
Alas! poor man!
Grif. At last, with easy roads, he came to
Leicester,
Lodg'd in the Abbey; where the reverend abbot,
With all his convent, honourably receiv'd him:
To whom he gave these words,-O father abbet,
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
Pursu'd him still; and, three nights after this,
About the hour of eight (which he himself
Foretold, should be his last), full of repentance,
Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows,
He gave his honours to the world again,
His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace.
Kath. So may he rest; his faults lie gently
on him!
Yet thus far, Griffith,give me leave to speak him,
And yet with charity,-He was a man
Of an unbounded stomach, every ranking
Himself with princes; one, that by suggestion
Ty'd all the kingdom: simony was fair play;
His own opinion was his law: I' the 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:
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 ill example.
Grif.
Noble madam,
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?
Kath.
Yes, good Griffith;
I were malicious else.
Grif.
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:
Lofty, and sour, to them that lov'd him not;
But, to those men that sought him, sweet as
And though he were unsatisfied in getting
(Which was a sin), yet, in bestowing, madam,
He was most princely; Ever witness for him
Those twins of learning, that he rais'd 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,
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
Than man could give him, he died, fearing God.
Kath. 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.
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,
Cause the musicians play me that sad note
I nam'd my knell, whilst I sit meditating
On that celestial harmony I go to.
Grif. She is asleep: Good wench, let's sit down quiet,
Banish'd the kingdom!-Patience, is that letter,
I caus'd you write, yet sent away?
Pat.
'Tis like a pardon after execution: [me; For fear we wake her;-Softly, gentle Patience. That gentle physick, given in time, had cured The vision. Enter, solemnly tripping one after ano-But now I am past all comforts here, but prayers. ther, six Personages, clad in white robes, wearing How does his highness? on their heads garlands of hays,and golden vizards Cap. Madam, in good health. on their faces; branches of bays, or palm, in their Kath. So may he ever do! and ever flourish, hands. They first congee unto her, then dance; When I shall dwell with worms, and my poor and at certain changes, the first two hold a spare garland over her head; at which, the other four make reverend court'sics; then the two that held the garland, deliver the same to the other next two, who observe the same order in their changes, and holding the garland over her head: which done, they deliver the same garland to the last two, who likewise observe the same order: at which (as it) were by inspiration) she makes in her sleep signs of rejoicing, and holdeth up her hands to heaven: and so in their dancing they vanish, carrying the garland with them. The musick continues. Kath. Spirits of peace, where are ye? Are ye all gone?
And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye?
Grif. Madam, we are here.
Kath.
It is not you I call for;
Saw ye none enter, since I slept?
Grif.
None, madam.
Kath. No? Saw you not, even now, a blessed
troop
Invite me to a banquet; whose bright faces
Cast thousand beams upon me, like the sun?
They promis'd me eternal happiness;
And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel
I am not worthy yet to wear: I shall,
Assuredly.
[dreams
Grif. I am most joyful, madam, such good
Possess your fancy.
Kath.
Bid the musick leave,
They are harsh and heavy to me. [Musick ceases.
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 earthly cold? Mark you her eyes?
Grif. She is going, wench; pray, pray.
Heaven comfort her!
Enter a Messenger. Mess. An't like your grace,Kath.
No, madam. [Giving it to KATHARINE. Kath. Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliver This to my lord the king.
Cap. Most willing, madam.
Kath. In which I have commended to his
The model of our chaste loves, his young daugh-
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
To love her for her mother's sake, that lov'd
him,
[tition
Heaven knows how dearly. My next poor pe-
Is that his noble grace would have some pity
Upon my wretched women, that so long
Have follow'd both my fortunes faithfully;
Of which there is not one, I dare avow
(And now I should not lie), but will deserve,
For virtue, and true beauty of the soul,
For honesty, and decent carriage,
A right good husband, let him be a noble;
And, sure, those men are happy that shall have
them.
The last is, for my men: they are the poorest.
But poverty could never draw them from me;-
That they may have their wages duly paid them,
And something over to remember me by;
If heaven had pleas'd to have given me longer
And able means, we had not parted thus. [life,
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, You are a saucy fellow: Stand these poor people's friend, and urge the Deserve we no more reverence? To do me this last right. [king Grif. You are to blame, Cap. By heaven, I will; Knowing, she will not lose her wonted greatness, Or let me lose the fashion of a man! To use so rude behaviour: go to, kneel. [don; Kath. I thank you, honest lord. Rememberme Mess. I humbly do entreat your highness' par- In all humility unto his highness;
Say, his long trouble now is passing [him, Gar.
Yes, yes, Sir Thomas,
Out of this world: tell him, in death I bless'd There are that dare; and I myself have ventur'd
For so I will.-Mine eyes grow dim.-Farewell, To speak my mind of him: and, indeed, this day,
My lord.-Griffith, farewell.-Nay, Patience,
You must not leave me yet. I must to bed:
Call in more women.-When I am dead, good
wench,
Let me be us'd with honour; strew me over
With maiden flowers, that all the world may
know
I was a chaste wife to my grave: embalm me,
Then lay me forth: although unqueen'd, yet like
A queen, and daughter to a king, inter me.
I can no more.- Ereunt leading KATHARINE.
SCENE I. A Gallery in the Palace.
Enter GARDINER, Bishop of Winchester, a Page
with a Torch before him, met by SIR THOMAS
LOVELL.
Gar. It's one o'clock, boy, is 't not?
Boy.
It hath struck.
Gar. These should be hours for necessities,
Not for delights: times to repair our nature
With comforting repose, and not for us
To waste these hours.-Good hour of night, Sir
Whither so late?
[Thomas!
Lov. Came you from the king, my lord?
Gar. I did,Sir Thomas; and left him at primero
With the duke of Suffolk.
Lov.
I must to him too,
Before he go to bed. I'll take my leave.
Gar. Not yet, Sir Thomas Lovell. What's
the matter?
It seems, you are in haste: an if there be
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 despatch by day.
Lov.
My lord, I love you;
And durst commend a secret to your ear
Much weightier than the work. The queen's
in labour,
They say, in great extremity; and fear'd,
She'll with the labour end.
The fruit, she goes with,
I pray for heartily; that it may find
Good time, and live; but for the stock, Sir
I wish it grubb'd up now.
[Thomas,
Methinks, I could
Cry the amen; and yet my conscienee says
She's a good creature, and, sweet lady, does
Deserve our better wishes.
Gar.
But, sir, sir,-
Hear me, Sir Thomas: You are a gentleman
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.
Lov.
Now, sir, you speak of two,
The most remark'd i' the kingdom. As for
Cromwell,-
Beside that of the jewel-house, he's made master
O' the rolls, and the king's secretary: further, sir,
Stands in the gap and trade of more preferments,
With which the time will load him: The arch-
bishop
Sir (I may tell it you), I think, I have
Incens'd the lords o'the council, that he is
(For so I know he is, they know he is)
A most arch heretick, a pestilence [moved,
That does infect the land: with which they
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), he hath com-
manded
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.
Lov. Many good nights, my lord: I rest your
servant. [Exeunt GARDINER and Page.
As LOVELL is going out, enter the King, and the
DUKE OF SUFFOLK.
K. Hen Charles, I will play no more to night;
My mind's not on't, you are too hard for me.
Suff. Sir, I did never win of you before.
K. Hen. But little, Charles;
Nor shall not, when my fancy's on my play.-
Now, Lovell, from the queen what is the news
Lov. I could not personally deliver to her
What you commanded me, but by her woman
I sent your message; who return'd her thanks
In the greatest humbleness, and desir'd your
Most heartily to pray for her. [highness
K. Hen.
What say'st thou ? ha!
To pray for her? what, is she crying out?
Lov. So said her woman; and that her suffer-
Almost each pang a death. [ance made
Alas, good lady!
Suff. God safely quit her of her burden, and
With gentle travail, to the gladding of
Your highness with an heir!
'Tis midnight, Charles,
Pr'ythee, to bed; and in thy prayers remember
The estate of my poor queen. Leave me alone
For I must think of that, which company
Would not be friendly to.
Suff.
I wish your highness
A quiet night, and my good mistress will
Remember in my prayers.
K. Hen.
Charles, good night.-
[Exit SUFFOLK.
[bishop,
Enter SIR ANTONY DENNY.
Well, Sir, what follows?
Den. Sir, I have brought my lord the arch-
As you commanded me.
'Tis true: Where is he, Denny?
Den. He attends your highness' pleasure.
Bring him to us. [Exit DENNY.
Lov. This is about that which the bishop spake:
I am happily come hither.
Re-enter DENNY, with CRANMER.
Avoid the gallery.
[LOVELL seems to stay.
K. Hen.
Ha!-I have said.-Be gone.
What!-
[Exeunt LOVELL and DENNY. Cran. I am fearful:-Wherefore frowns he thus?
'Tis his aspect of terror. All's not well. K. Hen. How now, my lord? You do desire Wherefore I sent for you. [to know [speak Cran.
Is the king's hand and tongue; and who dare
One syllable against him?
It is my duty
To wait your highness' pleasure.
K. Hen.
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:
I have, and most unwillingly, of late
Heard many grievous, I do say, my lord,
Grievous complaints of you: which, being con-
sider'd,
Have mov'd us and our council, that you shall
This morning come before us; where I know,
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
It fits we thus proceed, or else no witness
Would come against you.
Cran. I humbly thank your highness:
And am right glad to catch this good occasion
Most thoroughly to be winnow'd, where my chaff
And corn shall fly asunder: for, I know,
There's none stands under more calumnious
Than I myself, poor man.
[tongues,
K. Hen.
Stand up, good Canterbury;
Thy truth, and thy integrity, is rooted
In us, thy friend: Give me thy hand, stand up;
Pr'ythee, let's walk. Now, by my holy dame,
What manner of man are you? My lord, I look'd
You would have given me your petition, that
I should have ta'en some pains to bring together
Yourself and your accusers; and to have heard
Without indurance, further.
[you
Cran.
Most dread liege,
The good I stand on is my truth, and honesty;
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.
Know you not how Your state stands i' the world, with the whole world? [practices Your enemies are many, and not small; their Must bear the same proportion: and not ever The justice and the truth o'the question carries The due o' the verdict with it: At what ease Might corrupt minds procure knaves as corrupt To swear against you such things have been done.
You are potently opposed; and with a malice
Of as great size. Ween you of better luck,
I mean, in prejur'd witness, than your master,
Whose minister you are, whiles here he liv'd
Upon this naughty earth? Go to, go to;
You take a precipice for no leap of danger,
And woo your own destruction.
Cran.
God, and your majesty,
Protect mine innocence, or I fall into
The trap is laid for me!
K. Hen. Be of good cheer; They shall no more prevail, than we give way to. Keep comfort to you; and this morning see You do appear before them; if they shall chance, In charging you with matters, to commit you, The best persuasions to the contrary Fail not to use, and with what vehemency The occasion shall instruct you: if entreaties Will render you no remedy, this ring Deliver them, and your appeal to us [weeps! There make before them.-Look, the good man He's honest, on mine honour. God's blest mother!
I swear, he is true hearted; and a soul
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K. Hen. Give her an hundred marks. I'll to
the queen.
[Exit King.
Lady. An hundred marks! By this light I'll
have more.
An ordinary groom is for such payment.
I will have more, or scold it out of him.
Said I for this, the girl is like to him?
I will have more, or else unsay't: and now,
While it is hot, I'll put it to the issue. [Exeunt.
SCENE II. Lobby before the Council Chamber.
Enter CRANMER; Servants, Doorkeeper, &c.
attending.
Cran. I hope, I am not too late; and yet the That was sent to me from the council, pray'd me gentleman, To make great haste. All fast? what means this?-Hoa! Who waits there ?-Sure, you know me? D. Keep.
Yes, my lord;
Cran.
Why? [call'd for.
D. Keep. Your grace must wait till you be
Enter DOCTOR BUTTS.
Cran.
So.
Butts. This is a piece of malice. I am glad,
came this way so happily. The king
Shall understand it presently. Exit BUTTS.
Cran. [Aside.]
'Tis Butts,
The king s physician; As he past along
How earnestly he cast his eyes upon me!
Pray heaven, he sound not my disgrace! For
certain,
This is of purpose lay'd by some that hate me
(God turn their hearts; I never sought their
malice),
To quench mine honour: they would shame to make me
Wait else at door; a fellow counsellor, Among boys, grooms, and lackeys. But their Must be fulfilled, and I attend with patience. pleasures Enter, at a Window above, the King and BUTTS. Butts. I'll show your grace the strangest sight,
What's that, Butts? Butts. I think, your highness saw this many a K. Hen. Body o'me, where is it? [day. Butts. There, my lord: The high promotion of his grace of Canterbury;
Who holds his state at door,'mongst pursuivants, | Both in his private conscience, and his place, Pages, and footboys.
Is this the honour they do one another?
"Tis well, there's one above them yet. I had
thought
They had parted so much honesty among them
(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' plea-
sures,
And at the door too, like a post with packets.
By holy Mary, Putts, there's knavery:
Let them alone, and draw the curtain close;
We shall hear more anon.
[Exeunt.
Enter the Lord Chancellor, the DUKE OF SUFFOLK,
EARL OF SURREY, Lord Chamberlain, GARDI-
NER, and CROMWELL. The Chancellor places
himself at the upper end of the table on the left
hand; a seat being left void above him, as for the
ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY. The rest seat
themselves in order on each side. CROMWELL at
the lower end, as Secretary.
Chan. Speak to the business, master secretary:
Why are we met in council?
Crom.
Please your honours,
The chief cause concerns his graceof Canterbury.
Gar. Has he had knowledge of it?
Defacers of a public peace, than I do.
'Pray heaven, the king may never find a heart
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,
And freely urge against me.
Suff.
Nay, my lord,
That cannot be; you are a counsellor,
And, by that virtue, no man dare accuse you.
Gar. My lord, because we have business of
[pleasure,
We will be short with you. "Tis his highness'
And our consent, for better trial of you,
From hence you be committed to the Tower;
Where, being but a private man again,
You shall know many dare accuse you boldly,
More than, I fear, you are provided for. [you,
Cran. Ah, my good lord of Winchester, I thank You are always my good friend; if you will pass; I shall both find your lordship judge and juror, You are so merciful: I see your end, 'Tis my undoing: Love, and meekness, lord, Become a churchman better than ambition; Win straying souls with modesty again, Cast none away. That I shall clear myself, Lay all the weight ye can upon my patience, I make as little doubt, as you do conscience, Yes. In doing daily wrongs. I could say more, Who waits there? But reverence to your calling makes me modest. D. Keep. Without, my noble lords? Gar. My lord, my lord, you are a sectary, Gar. Yes. That's the plain truth; your painted gloss disD. Keep. My lord archbishop; covers, [ness. And has done half an hour, to know your pleaChan. Let him come in. [sures. D. Keep Your grace may enter now. [CRANMER approaches the Council-table. Chan. My good lord archbishop, I am very To sit here at this present, and behold [sorry 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, 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,
Divers, and dangerous; which are heresies,
And, not reform'd, may prove pernicious.
Gar. Which reformation must be sudden too,
My noble lords: for those that tame wild horses,
Pace them not in their hands to make them
gentle;
[spur them,
But stop their mouths with stubborn bits, and
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 physick: And what follows then?
Commotions, uproars, with a general taint
Of the whole state: as of late days our neigh-
bours,
The upper Germany, can dearly witness,
Yet freshly pitied in our memories.
Cran. My good lords, hitherto, in all the pro-
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
(I speak it with a single heart, my lords)
A man, that more detests more stirs against,
To men that understand you, words and weak-
Crom. 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,
To load a falling man.
Gar.
Good master secretary,
I cry your honour mercy; you may, worst
Of all this table, say so.
Crom.
Why, my lord?
Gar. Do not I know you for a favourer
Of this new sect? ye are not sound.
Crom.
Gar. Not sound, I say.
Crom. 'Would you were half so honest; Men's prayers then would seek you, not their
Gar. I shall remember this bold language
Crom.
Remember your bold life too.
Chan,
Forbear, for shame, my lords.
Gar.
Crom.
And I. Chan. Then thus for you, my lord,-It stands agreed,
take it, by all voices, that forthwith
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.
Cran.
Is there no other way of mercy,
But I must needs to the Tower, my lords?
Gar.
What other
Would you expect? You are strangely trouble-
Let some of the guard be ready there.
Enter Guard.
Cran.
Must I go like a traitor thither?
Gar.
[some!
For me? Receive him,
|