Gent. And't please your Grace, the two great Cardinals

Wait in the presence.

Queen. Would they fpeake with me?
Gent. They wil'd me fay fo Madam.
Queen. Pray their Graces

To come neere: what can be their bufines

With me, a poore weake woman, falne from fauour?
I doe not like their comming; now I thinke on't,

They should bee good men, their affaires as righteous :
But all Hoods, make not Monkes.

Enter the two Cardinalls, Wolfey & Campian. Wolf. Peace to your Highneffe.

Queen. Your Graces find me heere part of a Houswife, (I would be all) against the worst may happen: What are your pleafures with me, reuerent Lords? Wol. May it please you Noble Madam, to withdraw Into your priuate Chamber; we shall give you The full caufe of our comming.

Queen. Speake it heere.

There's nothing I haue done yet o' my Confcience
Deferues a Corner: would all other Women
Could fpeake this with as free a Soule as I doe.
My Lords, I care not (fo much I am happy
Aboue a number) if my actions

Were tri'de by eu'ry tongue, eu'ry eye faw 'em,
Enuy and base opinion fet against 'em,

I know my life fo euen. If your bufines

Seeke me out, and that way I am Wife in ;

Out with it boldly: Truth loues open dealing.

Card. Tanta eft erga te mentis integritas Regina fereniffima.

Queen. O good my Lord, no Latin;

I am not fuch a Truant fince my comming,

I am forry my integrity fhoul breed,
(And feruice to his Maiefty and you)
So deepe fufpition, where all faith was meant;
We come not by the way of Accufation,
To taint that honour euery good Tongue bleffes;
Nor to betray you any way to forrow;
You haue too much good Lady But to know
How you stand minded in the waighty difference
Betweene the King and you, and to deliuer
(Like free and honest men) our iuft opinions,
And comforts to our caufe.

Camp. Most honour'd Madam,

My Lord of Yorke, out of his Noble nature, Zeale and obedience he ftill bore your Grace, Forgetting (like a good man) your late Cenfure Both of his truth and him (which was too farre) Offers, as I doe, in a figne of peace,

His Seruice, and his Counfell.

Queen. To betray me.

My Lords, I thanke you both for your good wills,
Ye fpeake like honeft men, (pray God ye proue fo)
But how to make ye fodainly an Answere

In fuch a poynt of weight, so neere mine Honour,
(More neere my Life I feare) with my weake wit;
And to fuch men of grauity and learning;
In truth I know not. I was fet at worke,
Among my Maids, full little (God knowes) looking
Either for fuch men, or fuch bufineffe;

For her fake that I haue beene, for I feele
The laft fit of my Greatneffe; good your Graces
Let me haue time and Councell for my Cause:
Alas, I am a Woman frendleffe, hopelesse.
Wol. Madam,

You wrong the Kings loue with these feares,
Your hopes and friends are infinite.

Queen. In England,

But little for my profit can you thinke Lords,
That any English man dare giue me Councell?
Or be a knowne friend'gainst his Highnes pleasure,
(Though he be growne fo defperate to be honest)
And liue a Subiect? Nay forfooth, my Friends,
They that must weigh out my afflictions,
They that my trust muft grow to, liue not heere,
They are (as all my other comforts) far hence
In mine owne Countrey Lords.

Camp. I would your Grace

Would leaue your greefes, and take my Counsell.
Queen. How Sir?

Camp. Put your maine cause into the Kings protection, Hee's louing and moft gracious. 'Twill be much,

Both for your Honour better, and your Caufe:

For if the tryall of the Law o'retake ye,
You'l part away disgrac'd.

Wol. He tels you rightly.

Queen. Ye tell me what ye wish for both, my ruine:

Is this your Chriftian Councell? Out vpon ye.
Heauen is aboue all yet; there fits a Iudge.
That no King can corrupt.

Camp. Your rage mistakes vs.

Queen. The more fhame for ye; holy men I thought ye, Vpon my Soule two reuerend Cardinall Vertues: But Cardinal Sins, and hollow hearts I feare ye : Mend 'em for shame my Lords: Is this your comfort? The Cordiall that ye bring a wretched Lady? A woman loft among ye, laugh't at, scornd? I will not wish ye halfe my miferies,

I

I haue more Charity. But fay I warn'd ye;
Take heed, for heauens fake take heed, leaft at once
The burthen of my forrowes, fall vpon ye.

Car. Madam, this is a meere distraction,
You turne the good we offer, into enuy.

Quee. Ye turne me into nothing. Woe vpon ye, And all fuch falfe Profeffors. Would you haue me (If you haue any luftice, any Pitty,

If ye be any thing but Churchmens habits)

Put my ficke caufe into his hands, that hates me?
Alas, ha's banish'd me his Bed already,

His Loue, too long ago. I am old my Lords,
And all the Fellowship I hold now with him
Is onely my Obedience. What can happen
To me, aboue this wretchedneffe? All your Studies
Make me a Curfe, like this.

Camp. Your feares are worse.

Qu Haue I liu'd thus long (let me speake my selfe, Since Vertue findes no friends) a Wife, a true one? A Woman (I dare fay without Vainglory) Neuer yet branded with Sufpition?

Haue I, with all my full Affections

Still met the King? Lou'd him next Heau'n?Obey'd him?
Bin (out of fondneffe) fuperftitious to him?
Almoft forgot my Prayres to content him?
And am I thus rewarded? 'Tis not well Lords.
Bring me a conftant woman to her Husband,

One that ne're dream'd a Ioy, beyond his pleasure;
And to that Woman (when she has done moft)
Yet will I adde an Honor; a great Patience.
Car. Madam, you wander from the good

We ayme at.

Qu. My Lord,

I dare not make my felfe fo guiltie,

To giue vp willingly that Noble Title

Your Mafter wed me to: nothing but death

Shall e're diuorce my Dignities.

Car. Pray heare me.

Qu. Would I had neuer trod this English Earth,
Or felt the Flatteries that grow vpon it:

Ye haue Angels Faces; but Heauen knowes your hearts.
What will become of me now, wretched Lady?
I am the most vnhappy Woman liuing.
Alas (poore Wenches) where are now your Fortunes?
Shipwrack'd vpon a Kingdome, where no Pitty,
No Friends, no Hope, no Kindred weepe for me?
Almost no Graue allow'd me? Like the Lilly
That once was Miftris of the Field, and flourish'd,
Ile hang my head, and perish.

Car. If your Grace

Could but be brought to know, our Ends are honest,
Youl'd feele more comfort. Why fhold we(good Lady)
Vpon what cause wrong you? Alas, our Places,
The way of our Profeffion is against it;

We are to Cure fuch forrowes, not to fowe'em.

For Goodneffe fake, confider what you do,

How you may hurt your felfe: I, vtterly

Grow from the Kings Acquaintance, by this Carriage. The hearts of Princes kiffe Obedience,

So much they loue it. But to stubborne Spirits,

They fwell and grow, as terrible as stormes.

I know you haue a Gentle, Noble temper,

A Soule as euen as a Calme; Pray thinke vs,

Those we profeffe, Peace-makers, Friends, and Seruants. Camp. Madam, you'l finde it fo:

You wrong your Vertues

With these weake Womens feares. A Noble Spirit

As yours was, put into you, euer cafts

Such doubts as falfe Coine from it. The King loues you,
Beware you loofe it not : For vs (if you please
To truft vs in your bufineffe) we are ready
To vse our vtmoft Studies, in your feruice.
Qu. Do what ye will, my Lords:
And pray forgiue me;

If I haue vs'd my felfe vnmannerly,
You know I am a Woman, lacking wit
To make a feemely answer to fuch persons.
Pray do my feruice to his Maieftie,

He ha's my heart yet, and shall haue my Prayers
While I fhall haue my life. Come reuerend Fathers,
Bestow your Councels on me. She now begges
That little thought when the fet footing heere,
She should haue bought her Dignities fo deere.

Scena Secunda.

Exeunt

Enter the Duke of Norfolke, Duke of Suffolke, Lord Surrey, and Lord Chamberlaine.

Norf. If you will now vnite in your Complaints,
And force them with a Conftancy, the Cardinall
Cannot ftand vnder them. If you omit
The offer of this time, I cannot promise,

But that you shall fuftaine moe new difgraces,
With these you beare alreadie.

Sur. I am joyfull

To meete the leaft occafion, that may giue me Remembrance of my Father-in-Law, the Duke, To be reueng'd on him.

Suf. Which of the Peeres

Haue vncontemn'd gone by him, or at least
Strangely neglected? When did he regard
The stampe of Nobleneffe in any perfon
Out of himfelfe?

Cham. My Lords, you speake your pleasures:
What he deferues of you and me, I know:
What we can do to him (though now the time
Giues way to vs) I much feare. If you cannot
Barre his acceffe to'th'King, neuer attempt
Any thing on him : for he hath a Witchcraft
Ouer the King in's Tongue.

Nor. O feare him not,

His fpell in that is out: the King hath found Matter against him, that for euer marres The Hony of his Language. No, he's fetled (Not to come off) in his displeasure.

Sur. Sir,

The Lord forbid.

Nor. Marry Amen.

Suf. No, no:

There be moe Wafpes that buz about his Nose,

Will make this fting the fooner. Cardinall Campeius,

Is ftolne away to Rome, hath 'tane no leaue,

Ha's left the cause o'th'King vnhandled, and

Is pofted as the Agent of our Cardinall,

To fecond all his plot. I do affure you,

The King cry'de Ha, at this.

Cham. Now God incenfe him,
And let him cry Ha, lowder.
Norf. But my Lord

When returnes Cranmer?

Suf. He is return'd in his Opinions, which
Haue fatisfied the King for his Diuorce,
Together with all famous Colledges
Almoft in Christendome : fhortly (I beleeue)
His fecond Marriage fhall be publishd, and
Her Coronation. Katherine no more

Shall be call'd Queene, but Princeffe Dowager,
And Widdow to Prince Arthur.

Nor. This fame Cranmer's

A worthy Fellow, and hath tane much paine

In the Kings bufineffe.

Suf. He ha's, and we shall fee him

For it, an Arch-byshop.

Nor. So I heare.

Suf. 'Tis fo.

Enter Wolfey and Cromwell.

To heare from Rome. The Marchioneffe of Penbroke? Nor. He's difcontented.

Suf. May be he heares the King

Does whet his Anger to him.

Sur. Sharpe enough,

Lord for thy Iuftice.

Car. The late Queenes Gentlewoman?

A Knights Daughter

To be her Mittris Miftris? The Queenes, Queene?

This Candle burnes not cleere, 'tis I must fnuffe it,
Then out it goes. What though I know her vertuous
And well deferuing? yet I know her for

A fpleeny Lutheran, and not wholfome to
Our caufe, that the fhould lye i'th'bofome of
Our hard rul'd King. Againe, there is fprung vp
An Heretique, an Arch-one; Cranmer, one
Hath crawl'd into the fauour of the King,
And is his Oracle.

Nor. He is vex'd at something.

King. 'Tis well faid agen,

And 'tis a kinde of good deede to fay well,

And yet words are no deeds. My Father lou'd you,
He faid he did, and with his deed did Crowne
His word vpon you. Since I had my Office,
I haue kept you next my Heart, haue not alone
Imploy'd you where high Profits might come home,
But par'd my present Hauings, to bestow

My Bounties vpon you.

Car. What fhould this meane?

Sur. The Lord increase this bufineffe.

King. Haue I not made you

The prime man of the State? I pray you tell me,
If what I now pronounce, you haue found true:
And if you may confeffe it, say withall

If you are bound to vs, or no. What say you?

Car. My Soueraigne, 1 confeffe your Royall graces Showr'd on me daily, haue bene more then could My ftudied purposes requite, which went Beyond all mans endeauors. My endeauors, Haue euer come too short of my Defires, Yet fill'd with my Abilities: Mine owne ends Haue beene mine fo, that euermore they pointed To'th good of your moft Sacred Perfon, and The profit of the State. For your great Graces Heap'd vpon me (poore Vndeferuer) I Can nothing render but Allegiant thankes, My Prayres to heauen for you; my Loyaltie Which euer ha's, and euer fhall be growing, Till death (that Winter) kill it.

King. Fairely answer'd:

A Loyall, and obedient Subiect is

Therein illuftrated, the Honor of it

Does pay the Act of it, as i'th'contrary

The fowleneffe is the punishment. I prefume,

That as my hand ha's open'd Bounty to you,

My heart drop'd Loue, my powre rain'd Honor, more On you, then any: So your Hand, and Heart,

King. 'Tis Nobly spoken:

Take notice Lords, he ha's a Loyall breft,
For you haue feene him open't. Read o're this,
And after this, and then to Breakfast with

What appetite you haue.

Exit King, frowning upon the Cardinall, the Nobles throng after bim fmiling, and whispering.

Car. What should this meane?

What fodaine Anger's this? How haue I reap'd it?
He parted Frowning from me, as if Ruine

Leap'd from his Eyes. So lookes the chafed Lyon

V

Vpon the daring Huntsman that has gall'd him:

Then makes him nothing. I must reade this paper:

I feare the Story of his Anger. 'Tis fo:

This paper ha's vndone me: 'Tis th’Accompt
Of all that world of Wealth I haue drawne together
For mine owne ends, (Indeed to gaine the Popedome,
And fee my Friends in Rome.) O Negligence!
Fit for a Foole to fall by: What croffe Diuell
Made me put this maine Secret in the Packet
I fent the King? Is there no way to cure this?
No new deuice to beate this from his Braines?
I know 'twill stirre him ftrongly ; yet I know
A way, if it take right, in fpight of Fortune
Will bring me off againe. What's this? To th' Pope?
The Letter (as I liue) with all the Businesse

I writ too's Holineffe. Nay then, farewell:

I haue touch'd the highest point of all my Greatneffe,
And from that full Meridian of my Glory,

I hafte now to my Setting. I shall fall
Like a bright exhalation in the Euening,
And no man see me more.

As if it fed ye, and how fleeke and wanton
Ye appeare in euery thing may bring my ruine?
Follow your enuious courfes, men of Malice;
You haue Chriftian warrant for 'em, and no doubt
In time will finde their fit Rewards. That Seale
You aske with fuch a Violence, the King
(Mine, and your Mafter) with his owne hand, gaue me :
Bad me enioy it, with the Place, and Honors
During my life; and to confirme his Goodneffe,
Ti'de it by Letters Patents. Now, who'll take it?

Sur. The King that gaue it.

Car. It must be himfelfe then.

Sur. Thou art a proud Traitor, Priest. Car. Proud Lord, thou lyeft: Within these fortie houres, Surrey durft better Haue burnt that Tongue, then faide fo.

Sur. Thy Ambition

(Thou Scarlet finne) robb'd this bewailing Land
Of Noble Buckingham, my Father-in-Law,
The heads of all thy Brother-Cardinals,
(With thee, and all thy beft parts bound together)
Weigh'd not a haire of his. Plague of your policie,
You fent me Deputie for Ireland,

Farre from his fuccour; from the King, from all

That might haue mercie on the fault, thou gau'st him: Whil'ft your great Goodneffe, out of holy pitty, Abfolu'd him with an Axe.

Wo!. This, and all elfe

This talking Lord can lay vpon my credit,

I answer, is moft falfe. The Duke by Law
Found his deferts. How innocent I was

From any priuate malice in his end,

His Noble Iurie, and foule Cause can witnesse.
If I lou'd many words, Lord, I fhould tell you,
You haue as little Honeftie, as Honor,
That in the way of Loyaltie, and Truth,
Toward the King, my euer Roiall Mafter,
Dare mate a founder man then Surrie can be,
And all that loue his follies.

Sur. By my Soule,

Your long Coat (Prieft) protects you,
Thou should't feele

My Sword i'th'life blood of thee elfe. My Lords,
Can ye endure to heare this Arrogance?
And from this Fellow? If we liue thus tamely,
To be thus Iaded by a peece of Scarlet,
Farewell Nobilitie let his Grace go forward,
And dare vs with his Cap, like Larkes.
Card. All Goodneffe

Is poyfon to thy Stomacke.

Sur. Yes, that goodneffe

Of gleaning all the Lands wealth into one,
Into your owne hands (Card'nall) by Extortion:
The goodneffe of your intercepted Packets

You writ to'th'Pope, against the King: your goodnesse
Since you prouoke me, fhall be most notorious.
My Lord of Norfolke, as you are truly Noble,
As you refpect the common good, the State
Of our defpis'd Nobilitie, our Iffues,
(Whom if he liue, will fcarfe be Gentlemen)
Produce the grand fumme of his finnes, the Articles
Collected from his life. Ile ftartle you

Worse then the Sacring Bell, when the browne Wench
Lay kiffing in your Armes, Lord Cardinall.

Car. How much me thinkes, I could defpife this man, But that I am bound in Charitie against it.

Nor. Thofe Articles, my Lord, are in the Kings hand: But thus much, they are foule ones.

Wol. So much fairer

And fpotleffe, fhall mine Innocence arife,
When the King knowes my Truth.

Sur. This cannot faue you:

I thanke my Memorie, I yet remember
Some of these Articles, and out they shall.

Now, if you can blufh, and crie guiltie Cardinall,
You'l fhew a little Honeftie.

Wol. Speake on Sir,

I dare your worst Obiections: If I blush,

It is to fee a Nobleman want manners.

Sur. I had rather want thofe, then my head;
Haue at you.

First, that without the Kings affent or knowledge,
You wrought to be a Legate, by which power
You maim'd the Iurifdiction of all Bishops.

Nor. Then, That in all you writ to Rome, or elfe
To Forraigne Princes, Ego & Rex meus
Was ftill infcrib'd: in which you brought the King
To be your Seruant.

Suf. Then, that without the knowledge
Either of King or Councell, when you went
Ambaffador to the Emperor, you made bold
To carry into Flanders, the Great Seale.

Sur. Item, You fent a large Commiffion
To Gregory de Caffado, to conclude
Without the Kings will, or the States allowance,
A League betweene his Highneffe, and Ferrara.

Suf. That out of meere Ambition, you haue caus'd Your holy-Hat to be ftampt on the Kings Coine.

Sur. Then, That you haue fent inumerable fubftance,
(By what meanes got, I leaue to your owne conscience)
To furnish Rome, and to prepare the wayes
You haue for Dignities, to the meere vndooing
Of all the Kingdome. Many more there are,
Which fince they are of you, and odious,

I will not taint my mouth with.
Cham. O my Lord,

Preffe not a falling man too farre: 'tis Vertue :
His faults lye open to the Lawes, let them

(Not you) correct him. My heart weepes to see him
So little, of his great Selfe.

Sur. I forgiue him.

Suf. Lord Cardinall, the Kings further pleasure is,
Because all thofe things you haue done of late
By your power Legatiue within this Kingdome,
Fall into'th'compaffe of a Premunire;

That therefore fuch a Writ be fued against you,
To forfeit all your Goods, Lands, Tenements,
Caftles, and whatsoeuer, and to be

Out of the Kings protection. This is my Charge.

Nor. And fo wee'l leaue you to your Meditations How to liue better. For your ftubborne answer About the giuing backe the Great Seale to vs, The King fhall know it, and (no doubt) shal thanke you. So fare you well, my little good Lord Cardinall. Exeunt all but Wolfey.

Wol. So farewell, to the little good you beare me. Farewell? A long farewell to all my Greatneffe. This is the state of Man ; to day he puts forth The tender Leaues of hopes, to morrow Bloffomes, And beares his blufhing Honors thicke vpon him: The third day, comes a Froft; a killing Froft, And when he thinkes, good eafie man, full furely

His