Is this an hour for temporal affairs? ha ?—
Enter WOLSEY and CAMPEIUS,
Who's there? my good lord cardinal ?-O, my
The quiet of my wounded conscience, [Wolsey,
Thou art a cure fit for a king.-You're welcome,
[To CAMPEIUS.
Most learned reverend sir, into our kingdom;
Use us, and it:-My good lord, have great care
I be not found a talker.
[To WOLSEY.
Wol.
Sir, you cannot.
I would, your grace would give us but an hour
Of private conference.
We are busy go.
[To NORFOLK and SUFFOLK.
Nor. This priest has no pride in him?
Suff
Not to speak of;
I would not be so sick though, for his
But this cannot continue. (place:
If it do,
I'll venture one have at him.
Suff.
[Exeunt NORFOLK and SUFFOLK.
Wol. Your grace has given a precedent of wis-
Above all princes, in committing freely [dom
Your scruple to the voice of Christendom:
Who can be angry now? what envy reach you?
The Spaniard, tied by blood and favor to her,
Must now confess, if they have any goodness,
The trial just and noble. All the clerks,
I mean, the learned ones, in Christian kingdoms,
Have their free voices; Rome, the nurse of judge-|
Invited by your noble self, hath sent ment,
One general tongue unto us, this good man,
This just and learned priest, Cardinal Campeius;
Whom, once more, I present unto your highness.
K. Ilen. And, once more, in mine arms I bid
him welcome,
Cam. They will not stick to say, you envied
him;
And, fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous,
Kept him a foreign man still; which so griev'd
That he ran mad, and died.
[him,
Wol.
Heaven's peace be with him!
That's Christian care enough: for living mur-
murers,
There's places of rebuke. He was a fool; [low,
For he would needs be virtuous: That good fel-
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.
K. Hen. Deliver this with modesty to the
queen.
[Exit GARDINEK.
The most convenient place that I can think of,
For such receipt of learning, is Black-Friars:
There ye shall meet about this weighty busi-
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An Antechamber in the Queen's Apartments.
Enter ANNE BULLEN and an old Lady.
Anne. Not for that neither;-Here's the pang
that pinches :
[she
His highness having liv'd so long with her: and
So good a lady, that no tongue could ever
Pronounce dishonour of her,--by my life,
She never knew harm-doing;- now, after
So many courses of the sun enthron'd,
Still growing in a majesty and pomp,-the which
To leave is a thousand-fold more bitter, than
'Tis sweet at first to acquire,-after this process,
To give her the avaunt! it is a pity
Would move a monster.
Old L.
And thank the holy conclave for their loves;
They have sent me such a man I would have
wish'd for.
[strangers' loves,
Cam. Your grace must needs deserve all
You are so noble: To your highness' hand
1 tender my commission; by whose virtue,
(The court of Rome commanding),-you, my Melt and lament for her.
Hearts of most hard temper
O, God's will! much better, Cardinal of York, and joined with me their ser-She ne'er had known pomp: though it be temIn the unpartial judging of this business. Yet, if that quarrel, fortune, do divorce (poral, K. Hen. Two equal men. The queen shall It from the bearer, 'tis a sufferance, panging be acquainted [diner? As soul and body's severing. Forthwith, for what you come :-Where's Gar- Old L. Wol. I know, your majesty has always lov'd her So dear in heart, not to deny her that A woman of less place might ask by law, Scholars, allow'd freely to argue for her. K. Hen. Ay, and the best, she shall have; and my favour
She's a stranger now again.
Anne.
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,
And wear a golden sorrow.
Old L.
Is our best having.
Anne.
By my troth, and maidenhead,
I would not be a queen.
Old L.
To him that does best; God forbid else. Cardinal,
Pr'ythee, call Gardiner to me, my new secretary;
I find him a fit fellow.
[Exit WOLSEY.
Re-enter WOLSEY, with GARDINER,
Wol. Give me your hand: much joy and fa-
Beshrew me, I would,
You are the king's now.
[vour to you; And venture maidenhead for't; and so would
Gard.
But to be commanded For all this spice of your hypocrisy : [you,
Forever by your grace, whose hand has rais'd me. You, that have so fair parts of woman on you.
[Aside. Have too a woman's heart; which ever yet
K. Hen. Come hither, Gardiner.
Affected eminence, wealth, sovereignty;
[They converse apart. Which, to say sooth, are blessings: and which
Cam. My lord of York, was not one Doctor (Saving your mincing) the capacity [gifts
In this man's place before him?
[Pace of your soft cheveril conscience would receive,
Wol.
Yes, he was. If you might please to stretch it.
Cam. Was he not held a learned man?
Anne.
Nay, good troth,-
Wol.
Yes, surely. Old L. Yes, troth, and troth,-You would not
Cam. Believe me, there's an ill opinion spread be a queen?
Even of yourself, lord cardinal.
[then
Anne. No, not for all the riches under heaven.
Old L. 'Tis strange; a threepence bowed For all the mud in Egypt:-Have you heard it?
would hire me,
Anne. Come, you are pleasant.
Old L.
With your theme, I could
O'ermount the lark. The marchioness of Pem-
Old as I am, to queen it: But, I pray yon,
What think you of a duchess? have you limbs
To bear that load of title?
I swear again, I would not be a queen
For all the world.
Old L.
In faith, for little England
You'd venture an emballing: I myself
Would for Carnarvonshire, although there
'long'd
[here?
No more to the crown but that. Lo, who comes!
Enter the Lord Chamberlain.
Cham. Good morrow, ladies. What wer't
worth to know
The secret of your conference?
Anne.
My good lord,
Not your demand; it values not your asking:
Our mistress' sorrows we were pitying.
Cham. It was a gentle business, and becoming
The action of good women: there is hope,
All will be well.
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 to you, and
Does purpose honour to you no less flowing
Than marchioness of Pembroke; to which title
A thousand pound a year, annual support,
Out of his grace he adds.
Anne.
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,
Vouchsafe to speak my thanks, and my obedi-
ence,
As from a blushing handmaid, to his highness;
Whose health, and royalty, I pray for.
Cham.
Lady,
I shall not fail to approve the fair conceit,
The king hath of you.-I have perus'd her well.
[Aside.
Beauty and honour in her are so mingled,
That they have caught the king: and who knows
But from this lady may proceed a gem, [yet,
To lighten all this isle?-I'll to the king,
And say, I spoke with you.
Anne.
My honour'd lord.
[Exit Lord Chamberlain.
Old L. 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!)
A very fresh-fish here, (fye, fye upon
This compell'd fortune!) have your mouth fill'd
Before you open it.
[up,
This is strange to me.
A thousand pounds a year! for pure respect;
No other obligation: By my life,
That promises more thousands: Honour's train
Is longer than his foreskirt. By this time,
I know, your back will bear a duchess;-Say,
Are you not stronger than you were?
Anne.
Good lady,
Make yourself mirth with your particular fancy,
And leave me out on't. 'Would I had no being,
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 have heard, to her.
Old L.
What do you think me?
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV. A Hall in Black-Friars. Trumpets senet, and cornets. Enter two Vergers, with short silver wands; next them, two Scribes, in the habits of doctors; after them, the Archbishop of Canterbury, alone; after him the Bishops of Lincoln, Ely, Rochester, and Saint Asaph; next them, with some small distance, follows a Gentleman bearing the purse, with the great seal, and a Cardinal's hat; then two Priests, bearing each a silver cross; then a Gentleman Usher, bareheaded,accompanied withaSergeant atArms, bearing a silver mace; then two Gentlemen, bearing two great silver pillars; after them, side by side, the two Cardinals, WOLSEY and CAMPEIUS; two Noblemen with the sword and mace. Then enter the King and Queen, and their Trains. The King takes place under the cloth of state: the two Cardinals sit under him as judges. The Queen takes place at some distance from the King. The Bishops place themselves on each side the court, in manner of a consistory; between them, the Scribes. The Lords sit next the Bishops. The Crier and the rest of the Attendants stand in convenient order about the stage. Wol. Whilst our commission from Rome is [read,
Let silence be commanded.
It hath already publickly been read,
And on all sides the authority allow'd;
You may then spare that time.
Wol.
Scribe. Say, Henry king of England, come into the court.
Crier. Henry king of England, &c.
K. Hen. Here.
[into court.
Scribe. Say, Katharine queen of England, come
Crier. Katharine queen of England, &c.
[The Queen makes no answer, rises out of her chair,
goes about the court, comes to the King, and knee is
at his feet; then speaks.]
Q. Kath, Sir, I desire you, do me right and
And to bestow your pity on me: for [justice;
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
Hath my behaviour given to your displeasure,
That this you should proceed to put me off,
And take your good grace from me? Heaven
witness,
Anne.
Old L. How tastes it? is it bitter? forty pence,
There was a lady once ('tis an old story), [no. I have been to you a true and humble wife,
That would not be a queen, that would she not, At all times to your will conformable:
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,
My bond to wedlock, or my love and duty,
Against your sacred person, in God's name,
Turn me away; and let the foulst contempt
Shut door upon me, and so give me up
To the sharpest kind of justice. Please you, sir,
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 due
The wisest prince, that there had reign'd by many
A year before: It is not to he 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
Be by my friends in Spain advis'd; whose
counsel
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,
Yea, the whole consistory of Rome. You charge
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
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 [before
Remove these thoughts from you: The which
His highness shall speak in, I do beseech
You, gracious madam, to unthink your speaking,
And to say so no more.
My lord, my lord, I am a simple woman, much too weak To oppose your cunning. You are 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. You have, by fortune, and his highness' favours. Gone slightly o'er low steps; and now are [wards,
Where powers are your retainers: and your
Domesticks 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,
Before you all, appeal unto the pope,
To bring my whole cause 'fore his holiness,
And to be judg'd by him.
I will implore: if not; i' the name of God,
Your pleasure be fulfill'd!
Wol.
You have here, lady,
(And of your choice), these reverend fathers; [She curtsies to the King, and offers to depart.
Of singular integrity and learning,
Cam.
The queen is obstinate,
Yea, the elect of the land, who are assembled Stubborn to justice, apt to accuse it, and
To plead your cause: It shall be therefore boot-Disdainful to be try'd by it; 'tis not well.
That longer you desire the court; as well [less,
For your own quiet, as to rectify
What is unsettled in the king.
She's going away.
K. Hen.
Call her again.
Crier. Katharine queen of England, come into
Grif. Madam, you are call'd back. [the court.
Q. Kath. What need you note it? pray yon,
keep your way:
[help.
When you are call'd, return.-Now the Lord
They vex me past my patience!-pray you, pass
Lord cardinal,-I will not tarry: no, nor ever more,
Upon this business, my appearence make
In any of their courts.
Hath spoken well, and justly: Therefore, ma-
It's fit this royal session do proceed; [dam,
And that, without delay, their arguments
Be now produc'd, and heard.
Your pleasure, madam?
I am about to weep; but, thinking that We are a queen (or long have dream'd certain,
The daughter of a king, my drops of tears
I'll turn to sparks of fire.
Wol .
Be patient yet.
Q. Kath. I will, when you are humble; nay,
Or God will punish me. I do believe, [before,
Induc'd by potent circumstances, that
You are mine enemy; and make my challenge,
You shall not be my judge: for it is you
Have blown this coal betwixt my lord and me,-
Which God's dew quench!-Therefore, I say
I utterly abhor, yea, from my soul, [again,
Refuse you for my judge; whom, yet once more,
I hold my most malicious foe, and think not
At all a friend to truth.
Wol.
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
Exeunt Queen, GRIF. and her other Attendants.
K. Hen.
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: Thon art, alone,
(If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness,
Thy meekness saint-like wife-like govern-
ment,-
Obeying in commanding, and thy parts
Sovereign and pions 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 Of all these ears (for where I am robb'd 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
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
Have wish'd the sleeping of this business; never
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
to't,-
I will be bold with time, and your attention:Then mark the inducement. Thus it came;give heed to't:
Which you are running here. K. Hen.
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
Of the good queen, but the sharp thorny points
Of my alledged 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. My conscience first receiv'd a tenderness, K. Hen. I may perceive, [Asule. Scruple, and prick, on certain speeches utter'd These cardinals trifle with me: I abhor By the bishop of Bayonne, then French ambas-This dilatory sloth, and tricks of Rome.
Who had been hither sent on the debating A marriage, 'twixt the duke of Orleans and
My learn'd and well beloved servant, Cranmer, Pr'ythee return! with thy approach, I know, My comfort comes along. Break up the court:
Our daughter Mary: I'the progress of this busi-I say, set on. [Exeunt, in manner as they entered. 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,
Aud press'd in with this caution. First, me-
thought
I stoood not in the smile of heaven; who had
Commanded nature, that my lady's womb,
If it 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 heiro'the world, should not
Be gladded in't by me; Then follows, that
1 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
With you, my lord of Lincoln; you remember
How under my oppression I did reek,
When I first mov'd you.
Lin.
Very well, my liege.
K. Hen. I have spoke long; be pleas'd your-
How far you satisfied me.
[self to say
Lin.
So please your highness,
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,
Art Third.
SCENE I. Palace at Bridewell.
A Room in the Queen's Apartment.
The Queen and some of her Women, at work. Q. Kath. Take thy lute, wench: my soul grows sad with troubles: [working. Sing, and disperse them, if thou canst: leave SONG.
Orpheus with his lute made trees,
And the mountain tops, that freeze,
Bow themselves, when he did sing:
To his musick, plants, and flowers,
Ever sprang; 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 musick 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.
Would they speak with me? Gent. They will'd me say so, madam. Q. Kath. To come near. [Exit Gent.] What can be their
With me, a poor weak woman, fallen from I do not like their coming, now I think on't. They should be good men; their affairs as
But all hoods make not monks. [righteous:
Enter WOLSEY and CAMPEIUS.
Wol.
Peace to your highness!
Q. Kath. 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?
[withdraw
Wol. May it please you, noble madai, to
Into your private chamber, we
The full cause of our coming.
shall give you
Speak it here;
Q. Kath.
There's nothing I have done yet, o'my con-
science,
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
Above a number), if my actions
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, and that way I am wife in,
Out with it boldly; Truth loves open dealing.
Wol. Tunta est erga 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!
[thank you,
Pray, speak in English: here are some will
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 absolv'd in English.
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:
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,
And comforts to our 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 censure
Both of his truth and him (which was too far),-
Offers, as I do, in a sign of peace,
His service and his counsel.
Q. Kath.
To betray me.
[Aside.
My lords I thank you both for your good wills,
Ye speak like honest men, (pray God, ye prove
But how to make you suddenly an answer, [so!)
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,
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,
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'
pleasure
(Though he be grown so desperate to be honest),
And live a subject? Nay, forsooth my friends,
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.
Cam.
Would leave your griefs, and take my counsel.
Q. Kath.
How, sir?
Cam. Put your main cause into the king's
He's loving, and most gracious; 'twill be much
Both for your honour better, and your cause;
For, if the trial of the law o'ertake you,
You'll part away disgrac'd.
Wol.
Q. Kath. Ye tell me what ye wish for both,
my ruin:
Is this your Christian counsel? out upon ye!
Heaven is above all yet; there sits a judge,
That no king can corrupt.
Cum.
Your rage mistakes us.
Q. Kath. The more shame for ye; holy men
I thought ye,
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, langh'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 at
The burden of my sorrows fall upon ye. [onco
Wol. Madam, this is a mere distraction:
You turn the good we offer into envy.
[ye,
Q. Kath. Ye turn me into nothing; Woe upon
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 studies
Make me a curse like this.
Cam.
Your fears are worse.
Q. Kath. Have I liv'd thus long-(let me
speak myself,
[one?
Since virtue finds no friends), a wife, a true
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 him?
Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him?
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 plea-
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Q Kath. 'Would I had never trod this English
Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it! [earth,
Ye have angels' faces, but heaven knows your
hearts.
What will become of me now, wretched lady?
I am the most unhappy woman living.—
Alas! poor wenches, where are now your for-
tunes?
[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.
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