SCENE III.-An Ante-chamber in the QUEEN'S Apartments.

Enter ANNE BULLEN and an Old Lady. Anne. Not for that neither: here's the pang that pinches :

His highness having liv'd so long with her, and she
So good a lady, that no tongue could ever
Pronounce dishonour of her,-by my life,
She never knew harm-doing;-Ó, now, after
So many courses of the sun enthron'd,

Still growing in a majesty and pomp,-the which
To leave, a thousand-fold more bitter than
"Tis sweet at first t' acquire,-after this process,
To give her the avaunt! it is a pity
Would move a monster.

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 No more to the crown but that.-Lo, who comes here?

Enter the Lord Chamberlain.

Cham. Good morrow, ladies. What were '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.

Anne.

Now, I pray God, amen! Cham. You bear a gentle mind, and heavenly blessings

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 of you 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.
I do not know
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

yet,

But from this lady may proceed a gem

To lighten all this isle?-[To her.] 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, (fie, fie, fie upon
This compell'd fortune!) have your mouth fill'd up,
Before you open it.

Anne.

This is strange to me.

Old L. How tastes it? is it bitter? forty pence, no. There was a lady once, ('tis an old story,) That would not be a queen, that would she not, For all the mud in Egypt:-have you heard it? Anne. Come, you are pleasant.

Old L.

With your theme, I could O'ermount the lark. The marchioness of Pem

broke!

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've heard, to her.
Old L

What do you think me?
[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-A Hall in Black-Friars. Trumpets, sennet, and cornets. Enter two Vergers, with short silver wands; next them, two Scribes, in the habit 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 bare-headed, accompanied with a Sergeant at Arms, 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; below them, the Scribes. The Lords sit next the BISHOPS. The Crier and the rest of the Attendants stand in convenient order about the Hall.

Wol. Whilst our commission from Rome is read, Let silence be commanded.

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 kneels at his feet; then speaks. Q. Kath. Sir, I desire you do me right and justice; And to bestow your pity on me: for 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 thus you should proceed to put me off,

And take your good grace from me? Heaven wit

ness,

I have been to you a true and humble wife,

At all times to your will conformable;
Ever in fear to kindle your dislike,

Yea, subject to your countenance,--glad or sorry
As I saw it inclin'd. When was the hour
I ever contradicted your desire,

Or made it not mine too? Or which of your friends
Have I not strove to love, although I knew
He were mine enemy? what friend of mine
That had to him deriv'd your anger, did I
Continue in my liking? nay, gave notice
He was from thence discharg'd. Sir, call to mind
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 foul'st contempt
Shut door upon me, and so give me up
To the sharp'st 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 one
The wisest prince that there had reign'd by many
A year before: it is not to be 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
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; men
Of singular integrity and learning,

Yea, the elect o' the land, who are assembled
To plead your cause: it shall be therefore bootless
That longer you desire the court; as well
For your own quiet, as to rectify
What is unsettled in the king.
Cam.

His grace

Hath spoken well and justly: therefore, Madam,
It's fit this royal session do proceed;

And that, without delay, their arguments
Be now produc'd and heard.

Q. Kath.

To you I speak. Wol.

Q. Kath.

Lord cardinal,—

Be patient yet.

I am about to weep; but, thinking that
We are a queen, (or long have dream'd so,) certain
The daughter of a king, my drops of tears
I'll turn to sparks of fire.
Wol.
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 again,

I utterly abhor, yea, from my soul

Refuse you for my judge; whom, yet once more,
I hold my most malicious foe, and think not
At all a friend to truth.

I have no spleen against you; nor injustice
For you, or any: how far I have proceeded,
Or how far farther shall, is warranted
By a commission from the consistory,―

Yea, the whole consistory of Rome. You charge me
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. 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 before
His highness shall speak in, I do beseech
You, gracious Madam, to unthink your speaking,
And to say so no more.

Q. Kath.

My lord, my lord, I am a simple woman, much too weak To oppose your cunning. You're 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 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,
Before you all, appeal unto the pope,
To bring my whole cause 'fore his holiness,
And to be judg'd by him.

When you are call'd, return.-Now, the Lord help!
They vex me past my patience!-Pray you, pass on:
I will not tarry; no, nor ever more
Upon this business my appearance make
In any of their courts.

[Exeunt QUEEN, GRIFFITH, 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 naught 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 Sov'reign and pious else, could speak thee out,) The queen of earthly queens:-she's 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,

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're 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 th' 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 embassador;
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 rev'rend 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. 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 i' 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 farther day:
Meanwhile 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. [Aside.]
I may perceive,

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.

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 as 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.

Q. 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,-
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. [Aside.]

To betray me.—

My lords, I thank you both for your good wills;
Ye speak like honest men: (pray God, ye prove so!)
But how to make ye 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