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2. Kath. Take thy lute, wench: my foul troubles;

Sing, and difperfe them, if thou canft: lea

SONG.

Orpheus with his lute made trees,
And the mountain-tops, that freeze,
Bow themselves, when he did fing
To his mufick, plants, and flowers,
Ever Sprung; as fun, and showers,
There had made a lafting spring.

Every thing that beard him play,
Even the billows of the fea,

Hung their heads, and then lay by
In fweet mufick is such art;
Killing care, and grief of heart,
Fall asleep, or, bearing, die.

Enter a Gentleman.

2. Kath. How now?

Gent. An't please your grace, the two g

Wait in the presence.

Q; Kath.

Would they speak with me?

Gent. They will'd me fay fo, madam.

2. 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 as righteous:
But all hoods make not monks.

Enter WOLSEY and CAMPEIUS.

Wol.

Peace to your highness !

2. Kath. Your graces find me here part of a housewife; I would be all, against the worst may happen. What are your pleasures with me, reverend lords?

Wol. May it please you, noble madam, to withdraw Into your private chamber, we shall give you

The full cause of our coming.

2: Kath.

Speak it here;

There's nothing I have done yet, o' my confcience,
Deserves a corner: 'Would, all other women
Could speak this with as free a foul as I do!
My lords, I care not, (fo much I am happy
Above a number,) if my actions

Were tried by every tongue, every eye faw them,
Envy and bafe opinion fet against them,
I know my life fo even: If your business

Seek me out, and that way I am wife in,

Out with it boldly; Truth loves open dealing.
Wol. Tanta eft ergà te mentis integritas, regina fereniffima,

2. Kath. O, good my lord, no Latin ;

I am not such a truant fince my coming,
As not to know the language I have liv'd in :

A ftrange tongue makes my cause more ftrange, fufpicious;

Pray,

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We come not by the way of accufation,
To taint that honour every good tongue ble
Nor to betray you any way to forrow;
You have too much, good lady, but to kno
How you stand minded in the weighty differ
Between the king and you; and to deliver,
Like free and honeft men, our juft opinions,
And comforts to your caufe.

Cam.

Moft honour'd My lord of York,-out of his noble nature, Zeal and obedience he still bore your grace; Forgetting, like a good man, your late cenf Both of his truth and him, (which was too Offers, as I do, in a fign of peace,

His fervice and his counfel.

2. Kath.

To betray

My lords, I thank you both for your good
Ye speak like honeft men, (pray God, ye p
But how to make ye fuddenly an answer,
In fuch a point of weight, fo near mine hor
(More near my life, I fear,) with my weak
And to fuch men of gravity and learning,
In truth, I know not. I was fet at work
Among my maids; full little, God knows,
Either for fuch men, or fuch business.

For her fake that I have been, (for I feel

The laft fit of my greatnefs,) good your graces,
Let me have time, and counsel, for my cause;
Alas! I am a woman, friendlefs, hopeless.

Wol. Madam, you wrong the king's love with these fears; Your hopes and friends are infinite.

2. 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 fubject? Nay, forfooth, 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 graçe Would leave your griefs, and take my counsel.

2. Kath.

How, fir?

Cam. Put your main cause into the king's protection ; He's loving, and moft gracious: 'twill be much

Both for your honour better, and your caufe;

For, if the trial of the law o'ertake you,

You'll part away difgrac'd,

Wol.

He tells you rightly.

2. Kath. Ye tell me what ye with for both, my ruin: Is this your chriftian counsel ? out upon ye!

Heaven is above all yet; there fits a judge,

That no king can corrupt.

Cam.

Your rage mistakes us.

2. Kath. The more shame for ye; holy men I thought

ye,

Upon my foul, two reverend cardinal virtues ;
But cardinal fins, and hollow hearts, I fear ye:

Mend

pleat

eft)

ds,

rej

race

How, fr otection

ruin:

ought

And all fuch false profeffors! Would ye
(If you have any justice, any pity;

If ye be any thing but churchmen's habi
Put my fick caufe into his hands that hat
Alas! he has banish'd me his bed already
His love, too long ago: I am old, my lo
And all the fellowship I hold now with h
Is only my obedience. What can happe
To me, above this wretchedness? all yo
Make me a curse like this.

Cam.

Your fears are

2. Kath. Have I liv'd thus long—(let n
Since virtue finds no friends,)—a wife, a
A woman (I dare fay, without vain-glory
Never yet branded with fufpicion ?
Have I with all my full affections
Still met the king? lov'd him next heave
Been, out of fondness, fuperftitious to hi
Almoft forgot my prayers to content him
And am I thus rewarded? 'tis not well,
Bring me a conftant woman to her husban
One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his p
And to that woman, when the has done m
Yet will I add an honour,-a great patien

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