Page images
PDF
EPUB

have had divers children, although it hath pleased God to call them out of this world, which hath been no default in

me.

"And when ye had me at the first, I take God to be my judge, I was a true maid without touch of man; and whether it be true or no, I put it to your conscience. If there be any just cause by the law that ye can allege against me, either of dishonesty or any other impediment to banish and put me from you, I am well content to depart to my great shame and dishonour; and if there be none, then here I most lowly beseech you let me remain in my former estate, and receive justice at your hands. The king your father was in the time of his reign of such estimation thorough the world for his excellent wisdom, that he was accounted and called of all men the second Solomon; and my father Ferdinand, King of Spain, who was esteemed to be one of the wittiest princes that reigned in Spain, many years before, were both wise and excellent kings in wisdom and princely behaviour. It is not therefore to be doubted, but that they elected and gathered as wise counsellors about them as to their high discretions was thought meet. Also, as me seemeth, there was in

those days as wise, as well learned men, and men of as good judgment as be at this present in both realms, who thought then the marriage between you and me good and lawful. Therefore it is a wonder to hear what new inventions are now invented against me, that never intended but honesty. And cause me to stand to the order and judgment of this new court, wherein ye may do me much wrong, if ye intend any cruelty; for ye may condemn me for lack of sufficient answer, having no indifferent counsel, but such as be assigned me, with whose wisdom and learning I am not acquainted. Ye must consider that they cannot be indifferent counsellors for my part which be your subjects, and taken out of your own council before, wherein they be made privy, and dare not, for your displeasure, disobey your will and intent, being once made privy thereto. Therefore I most humbly require you, in the way of charity, and for the love of God, who is the just Judge, to spare me the extremity of this new court, until I may be advertised what way and order my friends in Spain will advise me to take. And if ye will not extend to me so much indifferent favour, your pleasure then be fulfilled, and to God I commit my cause!'"

ACT III.

(1) SCENE I. She should have bought her dignities 80 dear.] The foregoing scene is almost identical with the account which Cavendish has left us of the interview between Katharine and the Cardinals:

[ocr errors]

"And then my lord rose up, and made him ready, taking his barge, and went straight to Bath Place to the other cardinal; and so went together unto Bridewell, directly to the queen's lodging: and they, being in her chamber of presence, showed to the gentleman usher that they came to speak with the queen's grace. The gentleman usher advertised the queen thereof incontinent. With that she came out of her privy chamber with a skein of white thread about her neck, into the chamber of presence, where the cardinals were giving of attendance upon her coming. At whose coming quoth she, Alack, my lords, I am very sorry to cause you to attend upon me; what is your pleasure with me?' 'If it please you,' quoth my Lord Cardinal, 'to go into your privy chamber, we will show you the cause of our coming.' 'My lord,' quoth she, if you have any thing to say, speak it openly before all these folks; for I fear nothing that ye can say or allege against me, but that I would all the world should both hear and see it; therefore I pray you speak your minds openly.' Then began my lord to speak to her in Latin. Nay, good my lord,' quoth she, 'speak to me in English I beseech you; although I understand Latin.' Forsooth then,' quoth my lord, Madam, if it please your grace, we come both to know your mind, how ye be disposed to do in this matter between the king and you, and also to declare secretly our opinions and our counsel unto you, which we have intended of very zeal and obedience that we bear to your grace.' 'My lords, I thank you then,' quoth she, 'of your good wills; but to make answer to your request I cannot so suddenly, for I was set among my maidens at work, thinking full little of any such matter, wherein there needeth a longer deliberation, and a better head than mine, to make answer to so noble wise men as ye be; I had need of good counsel in this case, which toucheth me so near; and for any counsel or friendship that I can find in England, [they] are nothing to my purpose or profit. Think you, I pray you, my lords, will any Englishmen counsel or be friendly unto me against the king's pleasure, they being his subjects? Nay forsooth, my lords! and for my counsel in whom I do intend to put my trust be not here; they being in Spain, in my

native country. Alas, my lords! I am a poor woman lacking both wit and understanding sufficiently to answer such approved wise men as ye be both, in so weighty a matter. I pray you to extend your good and indifferent minds in your authority unto me, for I am a simple woman, destitute and barren of friendship and counsel here in a foreign region and as for your counsel, I will not refuse, but be glad to hear.'

"And with that, she took my lord by the hand and led him into her privy chamber with the other cardinal; where they were in long communication: we, in the other chamber, might sometime hear the queen speak very loud, but what it was we could not understand. The communication ended, the cardinals departed and went directly to the king, making to him relation of their talk with the queen; and after resorted home to their houses to supper."

[blocks in formation]

The stamp of nobleness in any person,
Out of himself?]

Wolsey's arrogant behaviour to all with whom he came in contact, is acknowledged even by those who were best disposed towards him: "In his time of authority and glory," says Cavendish, "he was the haughtiest man in all his proceedings that then lived." It is not to be wondered at, therefore, that his enemies and satirists should make his "high-blown pride" a frequent theme for spiteful comment, nor can it be doubted that the picture Skelton has given us of the Cardinal's overweening assumption, though grossly exaggerated, was not altogether an ima ginary one:

"The Erle of Northumberlande

Dare take nothynge on hande;
Our barons be so bolde,
Into a mouse hole they wolde
Rynne away and crepe,
Lyke a mayny of shepe:
Dare nat loke out at dur
For drede of the mastyve cur,
For drede of the bochers dogge
Wold wyrry them lyke an hogge,
For and this curre do gnar,
They must stand all a far,
To holde up their hande at the bar.

[blocks in formation]

And brynge[s] them in suche feare;

He bayteth them lyke a bere,

Like an oxe or a bull:

Theyr wyttes, he saith, are dull;
He sayth they have no brayne
Theyr astate to mayntayne;

And maketh them to bow theyr kne
Before his majeste.

Juges of the kynges lawes,

He countys them foles and dawes; Sergyantes of the coyfe eke,

He sayth they are to seke

In pletynge of theyr case
At the Commune Place,
Or at the Kynges Benche;

He wryngeth them such a wrenche,
That all our learned men
Dare nat set theyr penne
To plete a trew tryall

Within Westmynster hall;
In the Chauncery where he syttes,
But suche as he admyttes
None so hardy to speke:
He sayth, thou huddypeke,
Thy lernynge is to lewde,
Thy tonge is nat well thewde,
To seke before our grace;
And openly in that place

He rages and he raves,

And calls them cankerd knaves:

Thus royally he dothe deale

Under the kynges brode seale:

And in the Checker he them cheks;

In the Star Chambre he noddis and beks,
And bereth him there so stoute,
That no man dare route,
Duke, erle, baron, nor lorde,

But to his sentence must accorde:
Whether he be knyght or squyre,
All men must folow his desyre."

[ocr errors][merged small][merged small]

(1) SCENE II.-Give him a little earth for charity!] So Cavendish:

at ease.

"And the next day he took his journey with Master Kingston and the guard. And as soon as they espied their old master, in such a lamentable estate, they lamented him with weeping eyes. Whom my lord took by the hands, and divers times, by the way, as he rode, he would talk with them, sometime with one, and sometime with another; at night he was lodged at a house of the Earl of Shrewsbury's, called Hardwick Hall, very evil The next day he rode to Nottingham, and there lodged that night, more sicker, and the next day we rode to Leicester Abbey; and by the way he waxed so sick that he was divers times likely to have fallen from his mule; and being night before we came to the abbey of Leicester, where at his coming in at the gates the abbot of the place with all his convent met him with the light of many torches; whom they right honourably received with great reverence. To whom my lord said, 'Father Abbot, I am come hither to leave my bones among you,' whom they brought on his mule to the stairs foot of his chamber, and there alighted, and Master Kingston then took him by the arm and led him up the stairs; who told me afterwards that he never carried so heavy a burden in all his life. And as soon as he was in his chamber, he went incontinent to his bed, very sick."

(2) SCENE II.-His blessed part to heaven.] By his "blessed part" is of course meant his "spiritual or immortal part:" and we apprehend that the expression "better part," in the much-controverted passage in "As You Like It," Act III. Sc. 2:-"Atalanta's better part," bears a similar signification; in proof of this may be cited the trite old epitaph mentioned by Whalley:

"Sarah's obedience, Lydia's open heart,

And Martha's care, and Mary's better part." And the following passage from Overbury's "Characters:"-" Lastly," (he is depicting a Melancholy Man,) "he is a man onely in shew, but comes short of the better part, a whole reasonable soule, which is mans chief preeminence," &c.

(3) SCENE II.

and urge the king To do me this last right.]

The letter referred to in this passage, which Katharine addressed to the king a short time before her death, is preserved in Polydore Virgil's History, and has been translated as follows by Lord Herbert :

[ocr errors]

'My most dear lord, king, and husband,

"The hour of my death now approaching, I cannot choose but, out of the love I bear you, advise you of your soul's health, which you ought to prefer before all considerations of the world or flesh whatsoever: for which yet you have cast me into many calamities, and yourself into many troubles.-But I forgive you all, and pray God to do so likewise. For the rest, I commend unto you Mary our daughter, beseeching you to be a good father to her, as I have heretofore desired. I must entreat you also to respect my maids, and give them in marriage, (which is not much, they being but three,) and to all my other servants a year's pay besides their due, lest otherwise they should be unprovided for. Lastly, I make this vow, that mine eyes desire you above all things. Farewell."

ACT V.

(1) SCENE III.-Parish-garden.] This is usually printed Paris garden, but Parish was possibly the vulgar pronunciation of the word. Paris Garden was a district of St. Saviour's parish, in Southwark, wherein were two famous gardens set apart for the diversion of bear-baiting. On the 25th of May, 1599, soon after her accession to the throne, Queen Elizabeth gave a splendid dinner to the

French ambassadors, who were afterwards entertained with the baiting of bulls and bears, and the queen herself stood with the ambassadors looking on the pastime till six at night. The next day, the same ambassadors went by water to Paris Garden, where they saw another baiting of bulls and of bears." (See NICHOLS' Progresses, Vol. I. p. 40.)

CRITICAL OPINIONS

KING HENRY

ON

THE EIGHT H.

"SHAKSPEARE was as profound a historian as a poet; when we compare his Henry the Eighth with the preceding pieces, we see distinctly that the English nation during the long, peaceable, and economical reign of Henry VII., whether from the exhaustion which was the fruit of the civil wars, or from more general European influences, had made a sudden transition from the powerful confusion of the middle age, to the regular tameness of modern times. Henry the Eighth has, therefore, somewhat of a prosaic appearance; for Shakspeare, artist-like, adapted himself always to the quality of his materials. If others of his works, both in elevation of fancy and in energy of pathos and character, tower far above this, we have here on the other hand occasion to admire his nice powers of discrimination and his perfect knowledge of courts and the world. What tact was requisite to represent before the eyes of the queen subjects of such a delicate nature, and in which she was personally so nearly concerned, without doing violence to the truth! He has unmasked the tyrannical king, and to the intelligent observer exhibited him such as he was actually: haughty and obstinate, voluptuous and unfeeling, extravagant in conferring favours, and revengeful under the pretext of justice; and yet the picture is so dexterously handled that a daughter might take it for favourable. The legitimacy of Elizabeth's birth depended on the invalidity of Henry's first marriage, and Shakspeare has placed the proceedings respecting his sepa ration from Catharine of Arragon in a very doubtful light. We see clearly that Henry's scruples of conscience are no other than the beauty of Anne Boleyn. Catharine is, properly speaking, the heroine of the piece; she excites the warmest sympathy by her virtues, her defenceless misery, her mild but firm opposition, and her dignified resignation. After her, the fall of Cardinal Wolsey constitutes the principal part of the business. Henry's whole reign was not adapted for dramatic poetry. It would have merely been a repetition of the same scenes: the repudiation, or the execution of his wives, and the disgrace of his most estimable ministers, which was usually soon followed by death. Of all that distinguished Henry's life, Shakspeare has given us sufficient specimens. But as, properly speaking, there is no division in the history where he breaks off, we must excuse him if he gives us a flattering compliment of the great Elizabeth for a fortunate catastrophe. The piece ends with the general joy at the birth of that princess, and with prophecies of the happiness which she was afterwards to enjoy or to diffuse. It was only by such a turn that the hazardous freedom of thought in the rest of the composition could have passed with impunity: Shakspeare was not certainly himself deceived respecting this theatrical delusion. The true conclusion is the death of Catharine, which under a feeling of this kind, he has placed earlier than was conformable to history."--SCHLEGEL.

[graphic][subsumed][merged small]
[blocks in formation]
« PreviousContinue »