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 realm 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 How far you satisfied me.

Lin.

to say 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 runnning here.

K. Hen.

person

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 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: 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. I may perceive, (Aside.) These cardinals trifle with me: Tabhor This dilatory sloth, and tricks of Rome, My learn'd and well-beloved servant, Cranmer, Prythee 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; jing. Sing, and disperse them, if thou canst : leave workSONG.

Orpheus with his lute made trees,
And the mountain-tops, that freeze,
Bow themselves, when he did sing
To his music, plants and flowers
Ever sprung; 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 music is such art;
Killing care, and grief of heart,
Fall asleep, or, hearing, die.

Enter a Gentleman.

Q. Kath. How now?

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 lord”
Wol. May it please you, noble madam, to with
drav

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:

you.

Pray, speak in English: here are some will thank
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.

I am sorry, my integrity should breed

Noble lady,

(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.

(Aside)

Q. Kath.
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 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 council, for my cause;

Alas! I am a woman, friendless, hopeless.

Wol. Madam, you wrong the king's love with

these fears;

Bat httle 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 may grow to, live not here;
They are, as all my other comforts, far hence,
la my own country, lords.
Сам.

I would, your grace
Would leave your griefs, and take my counsel.
Q. Kath.

How, sir?

Cam. Put your main cause into the king's protection;

He's loving, and most gracions; 'twill be much
Beth for your honour better, and your cause;
For if the trial of the law o'ertake you,
Full part away disgrac'd.

He tells you rightly.

Q. Kath. Ye tell me what ye wish for both, my ruin :

Is this your christian counsel? out upon ye!
Fraven is above all yet; there sits a Judge,
That no king can corrupt.
Cam

Your rage mistakes us.

Q. Kath. The more shame for ye; holy men I thought ye,

(poa my soul, two reverend cardinal virtues ;
Bet cardinal sins, and hollow hearts, I fear ye:
Nead them for shame, my lords. Is this your
co fort?

The cordial that ye bring a wretched lady?
A woman lost among ye, laugh'd at, scorn'd?
Iwal not wish ye half my miseries,

Lave more charity: But say, I warn'd ye ;
Take heed for heaven's sake, take heed, lest at once
The burden of my sorrows fall upon ye.

Wol. Madam, this is a inere distraction;
To turn the good we offer into envy.

Q. Kath. Ye turn me into nothing: Woe upon ye, And all such false professors! Would ye have me 1. 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?
A as 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,
ls only my obedience. What can happen
To me above this wretchedness? all your studies
Make me a curse like this

Your fears are worse. Q. Kath. Have I liv'd thus long-(let me speak myself,

Sore virtue finds no friends,)-a wife, a true one?
A woman, I dare say, without vain-glory,)
Never yet branded with suspicion?
Hire I with all my full affections

[him?

met the king? lov'd him next heaven? obey'd Been out of fondness, superstitious to him? A most forgot my prayers to content him? And am I thus rewarded? 'tis not well, lords. Frag me a constant woman to her husband; he, that ne er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure; And to that woman, when she has done most, Yet wall I add an honour, a great patience. Wol. Madam, you wander from the good we aim guilty, Q. Kath. My lord, I dare not make myself so To give up willingly that noble title, 1r master wed me to: nothing but death Sie er divorce my dignities.

at.

'Pray, hear me.

Q. Kath. 'Would I had never trod this English earth,

Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it!

Y have angels' faces, but heaven knows your hearts.
What will become of me now, wretched lady?
I am the most unhappy woman living.-

Wol.

Alas! poor wenches, where are now your fortunes?
(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,
That once was mistress of the field, and flourish'd,
I'll hang my head, and perish.
If your grace
Could but be brought to know, our ends are honest,
You'd feel more comfort: why should we, good lady,
Upon what cause, wrong you? alas! our places,
The way of our profession is against it:
We are to cure such sorrows, not to sow them.
For goodness' sake, consider what you do:
How you may hurt yourself, ay, utterly
Grow from the king's acquaintance, by this carriage.
The hearts of princes kiss obedience,

vants.

So much they love it; but, to stubborn spirits,
They swell, and grow as terrible as storms.
I know, you have a gentle, noble temper,
A soul as even as a calm; Pray, think us
Those we profess, peace-makers, friends, and ser-
[virtues
Cam. Madam, you'll find it so. You wrong your
With this weak women's fears. A noble spirit,
As yours was put into you, ever casts
Such doubts, as false coin, from it. The king loves
Beware, you lose it not: For us, if you please
To trust us in your business, we are ready
To use our utmost studies in your service.

[you;

Q. Kath. Do what ye will, my lords: And, pray: forgive me,

If I have us'd myself unmannerly;
You know, I am a woman, lacking wit
To make a seemly answer to such persons.
Pray, do my service to his majesty:

He has my heart yet; and shall have my prayers,
While I shall have my life. Come, reverend fathers,
Bestow your counsels on me: she now begs,
That little thought, when she set footing here,
She should have bought her dignities so dear.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-Ante-chamber to the King's
Apartment.

Enter the Duke of NORFOLK, the Duke of SUFFOLK,
the Earl of SURREY, and the Lord Chamberlain.
Nor. If you will now unite in your complaints,
And force them with a constancy, the cardinal
Cannot stand under them: If you omit
The offer of this time, I cannot promise,
But that you shall sustain more new disgraces,
With these you bear already.
I am joyful
To meet the least occasion, that may give me
Remembrance of my father-in-law, the duke,
To be reveng'd on him.
Suf.
Which of the peers
Have uncontemn'd gone by him, or at least
Strangely neglected? when did he regard
The stamp of nobleness in any person,
Out of himself?

Sur.

Cham. My lords, you speak your pleasures; What he deserve of you and me, I know; What we can do to him, (though now the time Gives way to us,) i much fear. If you cannot Bar his access to the king, never attempt Any thing on him; for he hath a witchcraft Over the king in his tongue. Nor. O, fear him not; His spell in that is out: the king hath found Matter against him, that for ever mars The honey of his language. No, he's settled, Not to come off, in his displeasure. Sir,

Sur.

tuous,

And well-deserving? yet I know her for
A spleeny Lutheran; and not wholesome to
Our cause, that she should lie i the bosom of
Our hard-rul'd king. Again, there is sprung up
An heretic, an arch one, Cranner; one
Hath crawl'd into the favour of the king,
And is his oracle.

Nor.
He is vex'd at something.
Suf. I would, 'twere something that would fret
The master-cord of his heart!
[the string,

Enter the King, reading a schedule; and LOVELL
Suf
The king, the king.
K. Hen. What piles of wealth bath he accumQ-

lated

To his own portion! and what expense by the hour Seems to flow from him? How, i'the name of thrift, Does he rake this together?-Now, my lords; Saw you the cardinal?

Nor. My lord, we have Stood here observing him: Some strange commotion Is in his brain: he bites his lip, and starts; Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground, Then lays his finger on his temple; straight, Springs out into fast gait; then, stops again, Strikes his breast hard; and anon, he casts His eye against the moon: in most strange postures We have seen him set himself.

K. Hen.
It may well be;
There is a mutiny in his mind. This morning
Papers of state he sent me to peruse,
As I requir'd; And, wot you, what I found
There; on my conscience, put unwittingly?
Forsooth, an inventory, thus importing,—
The several parcels of his plate, his treasure.
Rich stuff's, and ornaments of household; which
I find at such proud rate, that it out-speaks
Possession of a subject.

Nor.
It's heaven's will;
Some spirit put this paper in the packet,
To bless your eye withal.

K. Hen.

If we did think
His contemplation were above the earth,
And fix'd on spiritual object, he should still
Dwell in his musings: but, I am afraid,
His thinkings are below the moon, not worth
His serious considering.

(He takes his seat, and whispers Lovell, whe goes to Wolsey.) Heaven forgive me! Ever God bless your highness!

Wol.

K. Hen.

Good my lord, You are full of heavenly stuff, and bear the inventory Of your best graces in your mind; the which You were now running o'er; you have scarce time To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span, To keep your earthly audit: Sure in that I deem you an ill husband; and am glad To have you therein my companion.

Is he ready

Wol. For holy offices I have a time; a time To think upon the part of business, which

Sir,

I bear i'the state; and nature does require
Her times of preservation, which, perforce,
I ber frail son, amongst my brethren mortal,
Mast give my tendance to.

K. Hen.

You have said well. Wol. And ever may your highness yoke together, As I will lend you cause, my doing well With my well-saying! K. Hen.

"Tis well said again; And 'tis a kind of good deed, to say well:

And yet words are no deeds. My father lov'd you:
He said, he did; and with his deed did crown
His word upon you. Since I had my office,

I have kept you next my heart; have not alone
Employ'd you where high profits might come home,
Bet par'd my present havings, to bestow

My bounties upon you.
Wel.
Sur. The Lord increase this business! (Aside.)
K. Hen.
Have I not made you
prime man of the state? I pray you, tell me,
it what I now pronounce, you have found true:
And if you may confess it, say withal,

What should this mean?

The

li you are bound to us, or no. What say you?
Wol. My sovereign, I confess, your royal graces,
Shower'd on me daily, have been more than could
My studied purposes requite; which went
Beyond all men's endeavours;-my endeavours
Have ever come too short of my desires,
let fi'd with my abilities: Mine own ends
Have been mine so, that evermore they pointed
To the good of your most sacred person, and
The profit of the state. For your great graces
Heap'd upon me, poor undeserver, I
Can nothing render but allegiant thanks;
My prayers to heaven for you; my loyalty,
Which ever has, and ever shall be growing,
Td death, that winter, fill it.
K. Hen.

Fairly answer'd;
Aayal and obedient subject is

Therein illustrated: The honour of it

Does pay the act of it; as, i'the contrary,

The foulness is the punishment. I presume,
Tat, as my band has open'd bounty to you,

My heart dropp'd love, my power rain'd honour,

Оп

more

yon, than any; so your hand, and heart,
Your brain, and every function of your power,
Noli, notwithstanding that your bond of duty,
As twere in love's particular, be more
To me, your friend, than any.

Wal.
I do profess,
That for your highness' good I ever labour'd
More than mine own; that am, have, and will be,
7gn all the world should crack their duty to you,
And throw it from their soul; though perils did
Abound, as thick as thought could make them, and
Appear in forms more horrid; yet my duty,
As doth a rock against the chiding flood,
Nald the approach of this wild river break,
And stand unshaken yours.

K. Hen. 'Tis nobly spoken: Take notice, lords, he has a loyal breast, For you have seen him open't.-Read o'er this; (Giving him papers.) And, after, this: and then to breakfast, with Wat appetite you have. Exit King, frowning upon Cardinal Wolsey: the Nobles throng after him, smiling, and whispering.

What should this mean? Wat sudden anger's this? how have I reap'd it? He parted frowning from me, as if ruin Leap'd from his eyes: So looks the chafed lion

the daring bantsman, that has gall'd him; Ites makes him nothing. I must read this paper; I tear, the story of his anger.-"Tis so: The paper has undone me :-Tis the account Of all that world of wealth I have drawn together Far mine own ends; indeed, to gain the popedom,

And fee my friends in Rome. O negligence,
Fit for a fool to fall by! What cross devil
Made me put this main secret in the packet
I sent the king? Is there no way to cure this?
No new device to beat this from his brains?
I know, 'twill stir him strongly; Yet I know
A way, if it take right, in spite of fortune
Will bring me off again. What's this-To the Pope
The letter, as I live, with all the business
I writ to his holiness. Nay then, farewell!
I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness,
And, from that full meridian of my glory,

haste now to my setting: I shall fall Like a bright exhalation in the evening, And no man see me more.

Re-enter the Dukes of NORFOLK and SUFFOLK, the
Earl of SURREY, and the Lord Chamberlain.
Nor. Hear the king's pleasure, cardinal; who
commands you

To render up the great seal presently
Into our hands; and to confine yourself
To Asher-house, my lord of Winchester's,
Till you hear further from his highness.
Wol.
Stay,
Where's your commission, lords? words cannot
Authority so weighty.

[carry

Suf. Who dare cross them? Bearing the king's will from his mouth expressly? Wol. Till I find more than will, or words, to do it, (I mean, your malice,) know, officious lords, I dare, and must deny it. Now I feel Of what coarse metal ye are moulded,-envy. How eagerly ye follow my disgraces, As if it fed ye! and how sleek and wanton Ye appear in every thing may bring my ruin! Follow your envious courses, men of malice; You have christian warrant for them, and, no doubt, In time will find their fit rewards. That seal, You ask with such a violence, the king, (Mine, and your master,) with his own hand gave me, Bade me enjoy it, with the place and honours, During my life; and, to confirm his goodness, Tied it by letters patents: Now, who'll take it? Sur. The king, that gave it. Wol.

It must be himself then.

Within these forty hours Surrey durst better
Have burnt that tongue, than said so.

Sur.
Thy ambition,
Thou scarlet sin, robb'd this bewailing land
Of noble Buckingham, my father-in-law:
The heads of all thy brother cardinals,
(With thee, and all thy best parts bound together,)
Weigh'd not a hair of his. Plague of your policy!
You sent me deputy for Ireland;

Far from his succour, from the king, from all,
That might have mercy on the fault thou gav'st him;
Whilst your great goodness, out of holy pity,
Absolv'd him with an axe.

I

Wol. This, and all else This talking lord can lay upon my credit, answer, is most false. The duke by law Found his deserts: how innocent I was From any private malice in his end, His noble jury and foul cause can witness. If I lov'd many words, lord, I should tell you, You have as little honesty as honour That I, in the way of loyalty and truth Toward the king, my ever royal master, Dare mate a sounder man than Surrey can be, And all that love his follies.

By my soul,

Sur. Your long coat, priest, protects you; thou should'st feel

My sword i'the life-blood of thee else.--My lords,
Can ye endure to hear this arrogance?
And from this fellow? If we live thus tamely,
To be thus jaded by a piece of scarlet,

Have at you.

head.

First, that, without the king's assent, or knowledge,
You wrought to be a legate; by which power
You maim'd the jurisdiction of all bishops.

Nor. Then, that, in all you write to Rome, or else
To foreign princes, Ego et Rex meus
Was still inscrib'd; in which you brought the king
To be your servant.

Suf
Then, that, without the knowledge
Either of king or council, when you went
Ambassador to the emperor, you made bold
To carry into Flanders the great seal.

Sur. Item, you sent a large commission
To Gregory de Cassalis, to conclude
Without the king's will, or the state's allowance,
A league between his highness and Ferrara.

Suf. That, out of mere ambition, you have caus'd
Your holy hat to be stamp'd on the king's coin.
Sur. Then, that you have sent innumerable sub-
stance,
[ence.)
(By what means got, I leave to your own cousci-
To furnish Rome, and to prepare the ways
You have for dignities: to the mere undoing
Of all the kingdom. Many more there are;
Which, since they are of you, and odious,
I will not taint my mouth with.
Cham.
O my lord,
Press not a falling man too far; 'tis virtue:
His faults lie open to the laws; let them,
Not you, correct them. My heart weeps to see him
So little of his great self.

Sur.

I forgive him.

Suf. Lord cardinal, the king's further pleasure is,-
Because all those things, you have done of late
By your power legatine within this kingdom,
Fall into the compass of a prœmunire,-

That therefore such a writ be sued against you;
To forfeit all your goods, lands, tenements,
Chattels, and whatsoever, aud to be

Out of the king's protection :-This is my charge.
Nor. And so we'll leave you to your ineditations
How to live better. For
your stubborn
About the giving back the great seal to us, [you.
The king shall know it, and no doubt, shall thank

answer,

So fare you well, my little good lord cardinal. [Exeunt all but Wolsey.

Wol. So farewell to the little good you bear me.
Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness!
This is the state of man; to-day he puts forth
The tender leaves of hope, to morrow blossoms,
And bears his blushing honours thick upon him:
The third day, comes a frost, a killing frost;
And,-when he thinks, good easy man, full surely
His greatness is a ripening,-nips his root,
And then he falls, as I do. I have ventur'd,
Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders,
This many summers in a sea of glory;

But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride
At length broke under me; and now has left me,
Weary, and old with service, to the mercy
Of a rude stream that must for ever hide me.
Vain pomp,
and glory of this world, I hate ye;
I feel my heart new opened: O, how wretched
Is that poor man, that hangs on princes' favours!
There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to,
That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin,
More pangs and fears than wars or women have;
And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,
Never to hope again.-

Enter CROMWELL, amazedly.

Why, how now. Cromwell? Crom. I have no power to speak, sir, Wol. What, amaz'd At my misfortunes? can thy spirit wonder, A great man should decline? Nay, an you weep, I am fallen indeed. How does your grace?

Crom. Wol.

Why, well;

Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell.
I know myself now; and I feel within me
A peace above all earthly dignities,
A still and quiet conscience. The king has cur'd me.
I humbly thank his grace; and from these shoulders,
These ruin'd pillars, out of pity, taken

A load would sink a navy, too much honour:
O, 'tis a burden, Cromwell, 't's a burden,
Too heavy for a man that hops for heaven.

Crom. Í am glad, your giace has made that rigul use of it.

Iol. I hope, I have: I am able now, methinks, (Out of a fortitude of soul I feel.)

To endure more miseries, and greater far.
Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer.
What news abroad?

Is your displeasure with the king.
IVol.

God bless him Crom. The next is, that sir Thomas More is chosrt Lord chancellor in your place.

Wol. That's somewhat saddea: But he's a learned man. May he continue Long in his highness' favour, and do justice For truth's sake, and his conscience; that his bones When he has run his course, and sleeps in blessings May have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on 'em. What more?

Crom. That Cranmer is return'd with welcome, Install'd lord archbishop of Canterbury, Wol. That's news indeed.

Crom.

Last, that the lady An Whom the king hath in secrecy long married, This day was view'd in open, as his queen, Going to chapel; and the voice is now

Only about her coronation.

Wol. There was the weight that pull'd me down

O Cromwell,

The king has gone beyond me, all my glories
In that one woman I have lost for ever;
No sun shall ever usher forth mine honours,
Or gild again the noble troops, that waited
pon my smiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwel;

I am a poor fallen mau, unworthy now
To be thy lord and master: Seck the kings