Q. Kath. I will, when you are humble; nay, before,
Or God will punish me. I do believe,
Q. Kath. Sir, I desire you, do me right and Induc'd by potent circumstances, that
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 witness,
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 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 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,
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.
You speak not like yourself; who ever yet
Have stood to charity, and display'd the effects
Of disposition gentle, and of wisdom
O'er-topping woman's power. Madam, you do me
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 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. 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
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.
I am a simple woman, much too weak
To oppose your cunning. You are meek, and hum
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
Who deem'd our marriage lawful: Wherefore I 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.
[She court'sies to the King, and offers to depart.
Cam.
The queen is obstinate,
Stubborn to justice, apt to accuse it, and
Disdainful to be try'd by it; 'tis not well.
Whether our daughter were legitimate,
Respecting this our marriage with the dowager,
Sometime 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,
Crier. Katharine, queen of England, come into I stood not in the smile of heaven; who had
Grif. Madam, you are call'd back.
Q. Kath. What need you note it? pray you, keep
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.
[Exe. 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: Thou art, alone
(If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness,
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.
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 the prejudice of her present state,
Or touch of her good person?
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,-
will be bold with time, and your attention:-
Then mark the inducement. Thus it came;-give
heed to't:-
My conscience first received 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
Ere a determinate resolution, he
(I mean the bishop) did require a respite; Wherein he might the king his lord advertise
(1) Speak out thy merits.
(2) Immediately satisfied.
(3) Closed or fastened.
(4) Floating without guidance.
Commanded nature, that my lady's womb,
If not 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 where 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.
I then mov'd you,
My lord of Canterbury; and got your leave
To make this present summons:-Unsolicited
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 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.
busi-These cardinals trifle with me: I abhor
This dilatory sloth, and tricks of Rome.
My learn'd and well-belov'd servant, Cranmer,
Pr'ythee, return!" with thy approach, I know,
My comfort comes along. Break up the court:
I say, set on. [Exe. in manner as they entered.
(5) Waste, or wear away.
(6) Without compare.
(7) An apostrophe to the absent bishop.
Believe me, she has had much wrong: Lord car
dinal,
SCENE I.-Palace at Bridewell. A room in The willing'st sin I ever yet committed,
the Queen's apartment. The Queen, and some May be absolv'd in English.
of her Women, at work.
Wol.
Q. Kath. Take thy lute, wench: my soul grows
sad with troubles;
Sing, and disperse them, if thou canst: leave working.
Orpheus with his lute made trees,
And the moutain-tops, that freeze,
Bor 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.
(And service to his majesty and you,)
am sorry, my integrity should breed
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.
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,
Gent. An't please your grace, the two great car-In such a point of weight, so near mine honour dinals
Wait in the presence.1
Q. Kath.
Would they speak with me?
Gent. They will'd me say so, madam.
Q. 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 right-
But all hoods make not monks.
Enter Wolsey and Campeius.
Peace to your highness! Q. Kath. Your graces find me here part of a housewife;
I would by 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
Seck me out, and that way I am wife in,
Out with it boldly; Truth loves open dealing.
Wol. Tanta est ergà te mentis integritas, regina
serenissima,-
Q. Kath. 9, 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
![[blocks in formation]](https://books.google.co.uk/books/content?id=UPsjAAAAMAAJ&output=html_text&pg=PA129&img=1&zoom=3&hl=en&q=Rome&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U0nCE4p3_JXxohIJBaNBk4rnelFtg&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=13,1485,480,81)
(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;
They are, as all my other comforts, far hence,
In mine own country, lords.
Cam.
I would, your grace
Would leave your griefs, and take my counsel.
Q. Kath.
How, sir?
Cam. Put you main cause into the king's pro
![[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small]](https://books.google.co.uk/books/content?id=UPsjAAAAMAAJ&output=html_text&pg=PA129&img=1&zoom=3&hl=en&q=Rome&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U0nCE4p3_JXxohIJBaNBk4rnelFtg&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=467,1184,481,222)
Your rage mistakes us. Q. Kath. The more shame for ye; holy men I thought ye,
Upon my soul, two revered 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, laugh'd at, scorn'd?
I will not wish you half my miseries,
I have 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 mere distraction;
You turn the good we offer into envy.
Q. Kath. Ye turn me into nothing: Wo upon ye, 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.
Your fears are worse. Q. Kath. Have I liv'd thus long-(let me speak myself,
Since virtue finds no friends,)-a wife, a true one?
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 heav'n? obey'd him?
Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him?1
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 pleasure;
And to that woman, when she has done most,
Yet will I add an honour-a great patience.
Wol. Madam, you wander from the good we
![[blocks in formation]](https://books.google.co.uk/books/content?id=UPsjAAAAMAAJ&output=html_text&pg=PA130&img=1&zoom=3&hl=en&q=Rome&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U0x-LGJBCvSFkRi-A93kx1MPMRW5g&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=62,870,453,116)
Q. Kath. 'Would I had never trod this English earth,
Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it!
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 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.
Wol.
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,
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
(1) Served him with superstitious attention.
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.
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 tny 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.
SCENE II-Ante-chamber to the King's apartEnter 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.
Sur.
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.
Suff.
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?
Cham. My lords, you speak your pleasures.
What he deserves 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.
Sur.
Sir,
I should be glad to hear such news as this
Once every hour.
Nor.
Believe it, this is true.
In the divorce, his contrary proceedings
Are all unfolded; wherein he appears,
As I could wish mine enemy.
Sur.
His practices to light?
Suff
Sur.
O, how, how? Suff. The cardinal's letter to the pope miscarried, And came to the eye o'the king: wherein was read, How that the cardinal did entreat his holiness To stay the judgment o'the divorce: For if It did take place, I do, quoth he, perceive My king is tangled in affection to ser-A creature of the queen's, lady Anne Bullen. Sur. Has the king this?
Nor. Suff Will make this sting the sooner. Cardinal Campeius Is stolen away to Rome; hath ta'en no leave; Has left the cause o'the king unhandled; and Is posted, as the agent of our cardinal, To second all his plot. I do assure you The king cried, ha! at this.
No, no ; There be more wasps that buzz about his nose,
And let him cry ha, louder! Nor.
When returns Cranmer?
Does whet his anger to him. Sur.
Lord, for thy justice!
Wol. The late queen's gentlewoman; a knight's daughter,
To be her mistress' mistress! the queen's queen!This candle burns not clear: 'tis I must snuff it; Then, out it goes.-What though I know her virtuous,
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
A heretic, an arch one, Cranmer; one
Hath crawl'd into the favour of the king,
And is his oracle.
He is vex'd at something.
Suff. I would, 'twere something that would fret the string,
The master-cord of his heart!
Enter the King, reading a Schedule;a and Lovell.
Suff
The king, the king.
K. Hen. What piles of wealth hath he accumu-
To his own portion! and what expense by the hour
Seems to flow from him! How, i'the name of Christ,
Now, God incense him, Does he rake this together?-Now, my lords;
Suff. He is return'd, in his opinions; which Have satisfied the king for his divorce, Together with all famous colleges Almost in Christendom: shortly, I believe, His second marriage shall be publish'd, and Her coronation. Katharine no more Shall be call'd, queen; but princess dowager, And widow to prince Arthur.
This same Cranmer's A worthy fellow, and hath ta'en much pain In the king's business.
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.
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
He has; and we shall see him There; on my conscience, put unwittingly?
Enter Wolsey and Cromwell.
Observe, observe, he's moody. Wol. The packet, Cromwell, gave it you the king?
Crom. To his own hand, in his bed-chamber.
Wol. Look'd he o'the inside of the paper?
Crom.
He did unseal them; and the first he view'd,
He did it with a serious mind; a heed
Was in his countenance: You, he bade
Attend him here this morning.
I think, by this he is. Wol. Leave me a while.It shall be to the duchess of Alençon, The French king's sister; he shall marry her.
(1) Follow. (2) New. (3) Made memorable.
|