(If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness,

S

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
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 fady, 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:-

My conscience first receiv'd a tenderness,
Scruple, and prick, on certain speeches utter'd
By the bishop of Bayonne, then French ambassador;
Who had been hither sent on the debating
A marriage, 'twixt the duke of Orleans and
Our daughter Mary: I'the progress of this business,
Ere a determinate resolution, he

(I mean the bishop) did require a respite;
Wherein he might the king his lord advertise
Whether our daughter were legitimate,

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 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 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
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 yourself

to say

How far you satisfied me.

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,
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 'the world against the person

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

I 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.

ACT III. 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;

Sing, and disperse them, if thou canst leave working.

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 sprung; as sun, and showers,

There had made 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

cardinals

Wait in the presence.

Q. Kath.

Would they speak with me?

Gent. They will'd me say so, madam. 2. Kath.

Pray their graces To come near. [Exit Gent.] What can be their business

With me, a poor weak woman, fallen from favour?
I do not like their coming, now I think on't.
They should be good men; their affairs are righteous:
But all hoods make not monks.

Wol.

Enter WOLSEY and CAMPEIUS.

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?
Wol. May it please you, noble madam, to with-
draw

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

2. Kath.
Speak it here;
There's nothing I have done yet, o' my conscience,
Deserves a corner: 'Would, all other women
Could speak this with as free a soul as I do!
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. Tanta 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:

Pray, speak in English: here are some will thank

you,

If you speak truth, for their poor mistress* sake;

T

Believe me,she has had much wrong: Lord cardinal,
The willing'st sin I ever yet committed,
May be absolv'd 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;
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 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 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 so!)
But how to make you suddenly an answer,

In such a point of weight, so near mine honour,
(More near my life, I fear,) with my weak wit,
And to such men of gravity and learning,
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
these fears;

Your hopes and friends are infinite.

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;