Our daughter Mary: I'the progress of this busi
Ere a determinate resolution, he
(I mean the bishop) did require a respite; Wherein he might the king his lord advertise 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, I stood not in the smile of heaven; who had 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 were 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
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,2
Very well, my liege.
Floating without guidance. Waste, or wear away.
K. Hen. I have spoke long; be pleas'd yourself
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.
K. Hen. I then mov'd you, My lord of Canterbury; and got your leave To make this present summons:---Unsolicited I 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. These cardinals trifle with me: I abhor This dilatory sloth, and tricks of Rome. My learn'd and well-beloved servant, Cranmer, Pr'ythee, return !2 with thy approach, I know, My comfort comes along. Break up the court: I say, set on. [Exe. in manner as they entered.
(1) Without compare.
An apostrophe to the absent bishop.
SCENE I-Palace at Bridewell. A room in the Queen's apartment. The Queen, and some of her Women, at work.
Q. Kath. Take thy lute, wench: my soul grows sad with troubles;
Sing, and disperse them, if thou canst: leave
Orpheus with his lute made trees, And the mountain-tops, that freeze, 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 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.
Gent. An't please your grace, the two great car
Would they speak with me?
Gent. They will'd me say so, madam.
Pray their graces To come near. [Exit Gent.] What can be their
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.
Wol. Peace to your highness! Q. 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 with- draw
Into your private chamber, we shall give you The full cause of our coming..
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 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, 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
If you speak truth, for their poor mistress' sake; Believe me, she has had much wrong: Lord car
The willing'st sin I ever yet committed,
May be absolv'd in English.
I am sorry, my integrity should breed (And service to his majesty and you,)
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.
Q. Kath. 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,
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. In England, But little for my profit: Can you think, lords, That any Englishman dare give me counsel ?
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