I do excuse you; yea, upon mine honour, And thus far clear him. Now, what mov'd me to't,- My conscience first receiv'd a tenderness, (I mean, the bishop,) did require a respite; The grave does to the dead: for her male issue When I first mov'd you. But by particular consent proceeded, To wear our mortal state to come, with her, Cam. [Exeunt, in manner as they enter'd. m ACT III. SCENE I-Palace at Bridewell. A Room in the Queen's Apartment. The Queen, and some of her Women, at work. Q. Katharine. 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, 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 billaws 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. Pray their graces To come near. [Exit Gen.] What can be their busi ness 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. Q. Kath. Your graces find me here part of a housewife: I would be all, against the worst may happen. Wol. May it please you, noble madam, to withdraw Into your private chamber, we shall give you Cam. The full cause of our coming. Were tried by every tongue, every eye saw them, 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, A strange tongue makes my cause more strange, sus picious; Pray, speak in English: here are some will thank you, Noble lady, Wol. To taint that honour every good tongue blesses; Cam. His service and his counsel. To betray me. [Aside. Q. Kath. 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. They that my trust must grow to, live not here; I would, your grace Q. Kath. Ye tell me what ye wish for both, my ruin Is this your christian counsel ? out upon ye! Heaven 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, Upon my soul, two reverend cardinal virtues ; The cordial that ye bring a wretched lady? I have more charity: But say, I warn'd ye; Wol. Madam, this is a mere distraction; Q. Kath. Ye turn me into nothing: Woe 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,) Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him? Wol. 'Pray, hear me. 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 Wome Shipwreck'd upon a kingdom, where no pity, No friends, no hope; no kindred weep for me, If your grace Wol. 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 With these weak women's fears. A noble spirit, Such doubts, as false coin, from it. The king loves you; Beware, you lose it not: For us, if you please 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, SCENE II.-Ante-chamber to the King's Apartment. Nor. If you will now unite in your complaints 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. 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? 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. daughter, To be her mistress' mistress! the queen's queen!- A spleeny Lutheran; and not wholesome to Our hard-rul'd king. Again, there is sprung up "Tis well said again; I have kept you next my heart; have not alone Wol. K. Hen. What should this mean? Sur. The Lord increase this business! [Aside Have I not made you The prime man of the state? I pray, you tell me, If what I now pronounce, you have found true: And, if you may confess it, say withal, If 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 man's endeavours :-my endeavours Have ever come too short of my desires, Yet, fil'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, Till death, that winter, kill it. K. Hen. Fairly answer'd; A loyal 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, That, as my hand has open'd bounty to you, My heart dropp'd love, my power rain'd honour, more On you, than any; so your hand, and heart I do profess, That for your highness' good I ever labour'd K. Her.. 'Tis nobly spoken: Take notice, lords, he has a loyal breast, For you have seen him open it.-Read o'er this ; [Giving him papers. And, after, this: and then to breakfast, with What appetite you have. [Exit King, frowning upon Cardinal Wolsey: the Nobles throng after him, smiling and whispering. Wol. Fit for a fool to fall by! What cross devil Will bring ine off again. What's this-To the Pope? 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, I haste now to my setting: I shall fall Like a bright exhalation in the evening, Sur. Far from his succour, from the king, from all Absolv'd him with an axe. Wol. This, and all else This talking lord can lay upon my credit, I 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 troth 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, Farewell nobility; let his grace go forward, And dare us with his cap, like larks. Wol. Is poison to thy stomach. Sur. All goodness Yes, that goodness Of gleaning all the land's wealth into one, Into your own hands, cardinal, by extortion; Re-enter the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, the Earl of The goodness of your intercepted packets, Surrey, and the Lord Chamberlain. Nor. Hear the king's pleasure, cardinal: who com mands 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, Who dare cross them? Where's your commission, lords? words cannot carry (I mean, your mafice,) 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! You have christian warrant for them, and, no doubt, You writ to the pope, against the king: your goodness, Wol. How much, methinks, I could despise this man, But that I am bound in charity against it! Nor. Those articles, my lord, are in the king's hand: But, thus much, they are foul ones. |