The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare

Pat. No, madam. [Giving it to KATHARINE. | To waste these times. Good hour of night, Kath. Sir, 1 most humbly pray you to de

This to my lord the king.

Cap. Most willing, madam.

Kath. In

goodness

Sir Thomas!

[liver Whither so late?

have commended to his

The model of our chaste loves, his young daughter:†[her!

The dews of heaven fall thick in blessings on 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,

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:
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 bet 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 life, And able means, we had not parted thus. parted 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 de

parted,

[king

Stand these poor people's friend, and urge the To do me this last right.

Cap. By heaven, I will;

Or let me loose the fashion of a man!

[me [hìm,

Kath. I thank you, honest lord. Remember In all humility unto his highness: Say, his long trouble now is passing Out of this world: tell him, in death I bless'd For so I will.-Mine eyes grow dim.-Fare

well,

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 [me,

know

I was a chaste wife to my grave:-embalm 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 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?

Doy. 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

Lov. Came you from the king, my lord?
Gur. 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 this work. The queen's

in labour,

They say, in great extremity; and fear'd,
She'll with the labour end.

Gar. 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.

Lov. Methinks, I could

Cry the amen; and yet my conscience 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, reli

gious;

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 Sleep in their graves.

Cromwell,

[she,

Lov. Now, Sir, you speak of two The most remark'd i'the kingdom. As for [ter Beside that of the jewel-house, he's made masO' the rolls, and the king's secretary: further, Sir,

[ments, Stands in the gap and trade of more preferWith which the time will load him: The archbishop

Is the king's hand, and tongue; And who dare speak

One syllable against him?

Gar. Yes, yes, Sir Thomas, [tur'd There are that dare; and I myself have venTo speak my mind of him: and, indeed, this day, 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 heretic, a pestilence [moved, That does infect the land: with which they Have brokens with the king; who hath so far Given ear to our complaint, (of his great grace And princely care; foreseeing those fell mischiefs [manded, Our reasons laid before him,) he hath comTo-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.

Almost each pang a death.

K. Hen. Alas, good lady!

Which will require your answer, you must tako
Your patience to you, and be well contented
To make your house our Tower: You a brother
of us,
It fits we thus proceed, or else no witness
Would come against you.

chaff

Cran. I humbly thank your highness;
And am right glad to catch this good occasion
Most throughly to be winnow'd, where my
And corn shall fly asunder: for, I know,
There's none stands under more calumnious
[tongues,

Than I myself, poor man.
Thy truth, and thy Integrity, is rooted
K. Hen. Stand up, good Canterbury;
[up;
In us, thy friend: Give me thy hand, stand
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 toge[you

ther

Suf. God safely quit her of her burden, and Yourself and your accusers; and to have heard

With gentle travail, to the gladding of

Your highness with an heir!

K. Hen. '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 Will not be friendly to.

Suf. I wish your highness

A quiet night, and my good mistress will
Remember in my prayers.

K. Hen. Charles, good night.

[Exit SUFFOLK.

to know

Wherefore I sent for you.

Cran. It is my duty,

To attend your highness' pleasure.

K. Hen. 'Pray you, arise,

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 fürther trial, in those charges

Without indurance, further.

Cran. Most dread liege,

The good I stand on is my truth, and honesty; If they shall fail, I, with mine enemies, [not, Will triumph o'er my person; which I weight Being of those virtues vacant. I fear nothing What can be said against me.

[world?

K. Hen. Know you not how Your state stands i'the world, with the whole Your enemies

Are many, and not small; their practices 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 oppos'd; and with a malice
Of as great size. Weens you of better luck,
I mean, in perjur'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; [to. They shall no more prevail, than we give way 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
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.

Enter an old LADY.

Gent. [Within.] Come back; What mean you?

Lady. I'll not come back: the tidings that I bring

* One of the council. + Value, & Always. Think.

Will make my boldness manners.-Now, good, Is this the honour they do one another?

angels Fly o'er thy royal head, and shade thy person

Under their blessed wings!

K. Hen. Now, by thy looks

I guess thy message.

Say, ay; and of a boy.

Is the queen deliver'd?

Lady. Ay, ay, my liege;

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,

As cherry is to cherr

K. Hen. Lovell,

'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, Butts, there's knavery:
Let them alone, and draw the curtain close;
We shall hear more anon.-

[Exeunt.

D. Keep. Without, my noble lords?
Gar. Yes.

D. Keep. My lord archbishop;

And has done half an hour, to know your

pleasures.

Chan. Let him come in.

D. Keep. Your grace may enter now.

[CRANMER approaches the Council-table. Chan. My good lord archbishop, I am very sorry

D. Keep. Your grace must wait, till you be That chair stand empty: But we all are men,

Cran. Why?

To sit here at this present, and behold

call'd for.

Enter Doctor BUTTS.

Cran. So.

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, vers, 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, [gentle; Pace them not in their hands to make them But stop their mouths with stubborn bits, and

spur them, Till they obey the manage. If we suffer (Out of our easiness, and childish pity To one man's honour) this contagious sickness, physic: And what follows then ?

Farewell, all Commotions, uproars, with a general taint Of the whole state: as, of late days, our neigh bours, The upper Germany, can dearly witness, Butts. I think, your highness saw this many Yet freshly pitied in our memories.

That, in this case of justice, my accusers,
Be what they will, may stand forth face to face,
And freely urge against me.

Suf. 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 more moment,

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,
More than, I fear, you are provided for.

Cran. Ah, my good lord of Winchester, I [pass,

thank you,

You are always my good friend; if your will
I shall both find your lordship judge and juror,
You are 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,
In doing daily wrongs. I could say more,
But reverence to your calling makes me mo-

dest.

covers,

Gar. My lord, my lord, you are a sectary, That's the plain truth; your painted gloss dis[ness. To men that understand you, words and weakCrom. 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. Not sound?

Gar. Not sound, I say.

Crom. 'Would you were half so honest! Men's prayers then would seek you, not their

fears.

Crom. And I.

stands agreed,

Gar. What other

Would you expect? You are strangely trouble. Let some o'the guard be ready there. [some!

Enter Guard.

Cran. For me?

Must I go like a traitor thither?

Gar. Receive him,

And see him safe i'the Tower.

Cran. Stay, good my lords,

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.
Cham. This is the king's ring.
Sur. 'Tis no counterfeit.

Suf. 'Tis the right ring, by heaven: I tola ye all, [ing, When we first put this dangerous stone a roll'Twould fall upon ourselves.

Nor. Do you think, my lords,
The king will suffer but the little finger
Of this man to be vex'd?

Cham. 'Tis now too certain:

How much more is his life in value with him?
'Would I were fairly out on't.
Crom. My mind gave me,
Against this man, (whose honesty the devil
In seeking tales, and informations,

And his disciples only envy at,)
Ye blew the fire that burns ye: Now have at ye.

Enter KING, frowning on them; takes his seat.

Gar. Dread sovereign, how much are we bound to heaven

In daily thanks, that gave us such a prince;
Not only only good and wise, but most religious:
One that, in all obedience, makes the church
The chief aim of his honour; and, to strengthen
That holy duty, out of dear respect,
His royal self in judgement comes to hear
The cause betwixt her and this great offender.
K. Hen. You were ever good at sudden com-
mendations,

Bishop of Winohester. But know, I come not
To hear such flattery now, and in my presence;
They are too thin and base to hide offences.
To me you cannot reach, you play the spaniel,
And think with wagging of your tongue to win

me;

But, whatsoe'er thou tak'st me for, I am sure, Thou hast a cruel nature, and a bloody.Good man, [TO CRANMER.] sit down. Now let

me see the proudest

He, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee:
By all that's holy, he had better starve,
Than but once think his place becomes thee

not.

Sur. May it please your grace,

K. Hen. No, Sir, it does not please me.

I had thought, I had had men of some under

standing

And wisdom, of my council; but I find none. Was it discretion, lords, to let this man,

Chan. Then thus for you, my lord, It This good man, (few of you deserve that title,)

I 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 Bid ye so far forget yourselves? I gave ye

Be known unto us: Are you all agreed, All. We are.

Cran. Is there no other way of mercy,

But I must needs to the Tower, my lords?

** In singleness of heart." Acts ii. 48

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,
Would try him to the utmost, had ye mean
Which ye shall never have, while I live.

Chan, Thus far

My most dread sovereign, may it like your
grace
[pos'd
To let my tongue excuse all. What was pur-
Concerning his imprisonment, was rather
(If there be faith in men,) meant for his trial,
And fair purgation to the world, than malice;
I am sure, in me.

K. Hen. Well, well, my lords, respect him;
Take him, and use him well, he's worthy of it.
I will say thus much for him, If a prince
May be beholden to a subject, I
Am, for his love and service, so to him.

Make me no more ado, but all embrace him;
Be friends, for shame, my lords. My lord of
Canterbury,

I have a suit which you must not deny me;
This is, a fair young maid that yet wants bap-
tism,

You must be godfather, and answer for her.
Cran. 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?

K. Hen. Come, come, my lord, you'd spare
your spoons;* you shall have
Two noble partners with you; the old duchess
of Norfolk,
[you?
And lady marquis Dorset; Will these please
Once more, my lord of Winchester, I charge
Embrace, and love this man.

Gar. With a true heart, And brother-love, I do it. Cran. And let heaven

Port. You dia nothing, Sir. Man. I am not Samson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colbrand,* to mow them down before me: but, If I spared any, that had a head to hit, either young or old, he or she, cuckold or cuckoldmaker, let me never hope to see a chine again. and that I would not for a cow, God save her. [Within.] Do you hear, master Porter? Port. I shall be with you presently, good master puppy.- Keep the door close, Sirrah. Mun. What would you have me do?

Port. What should you do, but knock them 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 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 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 firedrake did I hit three times on the head, and three times was his nose discharged 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 [you, her pink'd porringert fell off her head, for kindling such a combustion in the state. I miss'd the meteor once, and hit that woman, who cried out, clubs! when I might see from far some forty truncheoneers draw to her succour, which were the hope of the Strand, where she was quartered. They fell on; I made good my place; at length they came to the broomstaff with me, I defied them still; when suddenly a file of boys behind them, loose shot, delivered such a shower of pebbles, that I was fain to draw mine honour in, and let them win the work: The devil was amongst them, I think, surely.

Witness, how dear I hold this confirmation. K. Hen. Good man, those joyful tears show thy true heart.

[bury

The common voice, I see, is verified
Of thee, which says thus, Do my lord of Canter-
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;
So I grow stronger, you more honour gain.
[Exeunt.

SCENE III. -The Palace Yard.

Noise and tumult within. Enter PORTER and his MAN.

Port. You'll leave your noise anon, ye rascals: Do you take the court for Paris-garden?t ye rude slaves, leave your gaping.

[Within.] Good master porter, I belong to the larder.

Port. Belong to the gallows, and be hanged, you rogue: Is this a place to roar in?-Fetch me a dozen crab-tree staves, and strong ones; these are but switches to them. 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 [cannons,) (Unless we sweep them from the door with To scatter them, as 'tis to make them sleep On May-day morning; which will never be: We may as well push against Paul's, as stir them.

Port. How got they in, and be hang'd?

Man. Alas, I know not; How gets the tide As much as one sound cudgel of four foot [in? (You see the poor remainder) could distribute, I made no spare, Sir.

• It was an ancient custom for sponsors to present spoons to their god-children. + The boar garden on the Bank-side. 1 Roaring.

Port. These are the youths that thunder at a play-house, 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 them in Limbo Patrum, and there they are like to dance these three days; besides the running banquet of two beadles, that is to come.

Enter the Lord CHAMBERLAIN.

Cham. Mercy o'me, what a multitude are here! [coming, They grow still too, from all parts they are 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 [ladies Great store of room, no doubt, left for the When they pass back from the christening. Port. An't please your honour We are but men; and what so many may do, Not being torn a pieces, we have done : An army cannot rule them.

Cham. As I live,

If the king blame me for't, I'll lay ye all
By the heels, and suddenly; and on your heads

Guy of Warwick, nor Colbrand the Danish glant.
+ Pink'd cap.
Place of confinement.

‡ The brazier.

|| A desert of whipping..

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