Patience, be near me ftill, and set me lower. Sad and folemn mufick. Grif. She is afleep: good wench let's fit down quier, For fear we wake her. Softly, gentle Patience. The Vifon. Enter folemnly one after another, fix perfonages, clad in white robes, wearing on their heads garlands of bays, and golden vizards on their faces, branches of bays or palm in their hands. They firft congee unto her, then dance; and at certain changes the first two hold a spare garland over her head, at which the other four make reverend curtfies. Then the two that held the garland deliver the fame to the other next two, who obferve the fame order in their changes, and holding the garland over her head. Which done, they deliver the fame garland to the laft two? who likewife obferve the fame order. At which, as it were by inspiration, she makes in her fleep figns of rejoycing, and holdeth up her hands to heaven. And fo in their dancing vanifh, carrying the garland with them. The mufick continues. Kath. Spirits of peace, where are ye? are ye gone? And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye? Grif. Madam, we're here. Kath. It is not you I call for, Saw ye none enter fince I flept? Kath. No! faw you not ev'n now a bleffed troop And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel Poffefs Pat. Do you note [Mufick ceafes. How much her Grace is alter'd on the fudden? How long her face is drawn? how pale she looks, Grif. She is going, wench. Pray, pray, Enter a Meffenger. Mef. And't like your Grace- Knowing fhe will not lofe her wonted greatnefs, Mef. I humbly do intreat your Highnefs' pardon: Kath. Admit him entrance, Griffith. But this fellow Let me ne'er fee again. [Exit Messenger. Enter Lord Capucius. If my fight fail not, You fhould be lord ambassador from the Emperor, Kath. O my lord, The times and titles now are alter'd strangely With me, fince first you knew me. What is your pleasure with me? Cap. Noble lady, But I pray you, Firft mine own fervice to your Grace, the next The King's request that I would vifit you, Who grieves much for your weakness, and by me Sends you his Princely commendations, And heartily intreats you take good comfort. Kath. O my good lord, that comfort comes too late, Tis like a pardon after execution; D 2 That That gentle phyfick giv'n in time had cur'd me; Cap. Madam, in good health. Kath. So may he ever do, and ever flourish, When I fhall dwell with worms, and my poor name Banifh'd the Kingdom. Patience, is that letter I caus'd you write, yet fent away ? Pat. No, madam. Kath. Sir, I muft humbly pray you to deliver This to my lord the King. Cap. Moft willingly, madam. Kath. In which I have commended to his goodness The model of our chafte loves, his young daughter, (The dews of heav'n fall thick in bleffings on her!) Befeeching him to give her virtuous breeding, (She's young, and of a noble modeft nature, I hope the will deferve well) and a little To love her for her mother's fake, that lov'd him A right good husband, let him be a noble : If heaven had pleas'd to've giv'n me longer life Cap Cap. By heav'n I will, Or let me lofe the fafhion of a man. Kath. I thank you, honeft lord. Remember me In all humility unto his Highness; - And tell him, his long trouble now is paffing [Exeunt, leading Katharine, ACT V. SCENE. I. Enter Gardener Bishop of Winchester, a page with torch before him, met by Sir Thomas Lovell, GARDINER. T'S one a clock, boy, is't not? Boy. It hath ftruck. Gard. Thefe fhould be hours for ne ceffities, Not for delights; times to repair our nature With comforting repofe, and not for us To wafte these times. Good hour of night, Sir Thomas, Whither fo late? Lov. Came you from the King, my lord? Gard. I did, Sir Thomas, left him at Primero With the Duke of Suffolk. Lov. I muft to him too, Before he go to bed. I'll take my leave. Gard. Not yet, Sir Thomas Lovell, what's the marter? It feems you are in hafte: And if there be No great offence belongs to't, give your friend Some touch of your late bufinefs. Affairs that walk (As they fay fpirits do) at midnight, have In them a wilder nature than the business That feeks difpatch by day. Lov. My lord, I love you: And durft commend a fecret to your ear The Queen's in labour, They fay in great extremity, 'tis fear'd Gard. The fruit fhe goes with I pray for heartily, that it may find Good time, and live; but for the ftock, Sir Thomas I wish it grubb'd up now. Lov. Methinks I could Cry the Amen, and yet my confcience fays Gard. But Sir, Sir Hear me, Sir Thomas -y'are a gentleman Of mine own way, I know you wife, religious, 'Till Cranmer, Cromwell, her two hands, and she, Lov. Now, Sir, you fpeak of two The most remark'd i'th' kingdom; as for Cromwell, Gard. Yes, Sir Thomas; There are that dare; and I my felf have ventur'd Sir |