To reft a while, fome half an hour, or so,
In a rich chair of state, oppofing freely
The beauty of her person to the people.
Believe me, fir, fhe is the goodlieft woman
That ever lay by man: which when the people
Had a full view of, such a noise arose

As the shrouds make at fea in a ftiff tempeft,
As loud, and to as many tunes: Hats, cloaks,
(Doublets, I think) flew up; and had their faces
Been loofe, this day they had been loft. Such joy
I never faw before. Great-belly'd women,
That had not half a week to go, like rams
In the old time of war,(8) would shake the prefs,
And make 'em reel before 'em. No man living
Could fay, This is my wife there; all were woven.
So ftrangely in one piece.

2 Gen. But, pray, what follow'd?

3 Gen. At length her grace rofe, and with modeft paces
Came to the altar, where she kneel'd; and, faint-like,
Caft her fair eyes to heaven, and pray'd devoutly.
Then rofe again, and bow'd her to the people :.
When, by the archbishop of Canterbury,
She had all the royal makings of a queen;
As holy oil, Edward Confeffor's crown,

The rod, and bird of peace, and all such emblems,
Laid nobly on her : which perform'd, the choir,
With all the choiceft mufic of the kingdom,
Together fung Te Deum. So fhe parted,
And with the fame full ftate pac'd back again
To York-Place, where the feaft is held.

1 Gen. You must no more call it York-Place, that's paft : For, fince the cardinal fell, that title's loft;

'Tis now the king's, and call'd, Whitehall.
3 Gen. I know it ;

But 'tis fo lately alter'd, that the old name
Is fresh about me.

2 Gen. What two reverend bishops

Were those that went on each fide of the queen ?

3 Gen. Stokefly and Gardiner; the one, of Winchester, (Newly preferr'd from the king's fecretary)

The other, London.

2 Gen. He of Winchester

Is held no great good lover of the archbishop,

The virtuous Cranmer.

3 Gen. All the land knows that :

However, yet there's no great breach; when't comes, Cranmer will find a friend will not fhrink from him. 2 Gen. Who may that be, I pray you?

3 Gen. Thomas Cromwell;

A man in much efteem with the king, and truly
A worthy friend. The king has made him
Mafter o the jewel-house,

And one, already, of the privy-council..
2 Gen. He will deferve more.

3 Gen. Yes, without all doubt.

Come, gentlemen, ye fhall go my way, which
Is to the court, and there fhall be my guests;
Something I can command. As I walk thither,
I'll tell ye more.

Both. You may command us, fir.

SCENE II.(9)

[Exeunt.

Kimbolton. Enter CATHERINE Dowager, fick, led between GRIFFITH her Gentleman-Usher, and PATIENCE her Woman.

Grif. How does your grace?

Cath. O, Griffith, fick to death :

My legs, like loaded branches, bow to the earth,
Willing to leave their burden: Reach a chair ;-
So,-Now, methinks, I feel a little ease. [Sitting down.
Didft thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou led'ft me,
That the great child of honour, cardinal Wolfey,
Was dead?

Grif. Yes, madam; but, I think, your grace,.
Out of the pain you fuffer'd, gave no ear to't.
Cath. Pr'ythee, good Griffith, tell me how he dy'd :.
If well, he ftep'd before me, happily,(1)

For my example.

Grif. Well, the voice goes, madam : For after the ftout earl Northumberland

Arrested him at York, and brought him forward

(9) This fcene is above any other part of Shakespeare's tragedies, and perhaps above any scene of any other poet, tender and pathetic, without gods, or furies, or poifons, or precipices, without the help of romantic circumftances, without improbable fallies of poetical lamentation, and without any throes of tumultuous mifery. JOHNS.

(1) Happily feems to mean on this occafion-peradventure.

STEEV.

(As a man forely tainted) to his answer, He fell fick fuddenly, and grew fo ill, He could not fit his mule.

Cath. Alas, poor man!

Grif. At laft, with eafy roads, he came to Leicester, Lodg'd in the abbey; where the reverend abbot, With all his convent, honourably receiv'd him ; To whom he gave thefe words,-O father abbot, An old man, broken with the forms of fate, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye; Give him a little earth for charity!

So went to bed where eagerly his fickness
Purfu'd him ftill; and, three nights after this,
About the hour of eight (which he himself
Foretold should be his laft) full of repentance,
Continual meditations, tears, and forrows,
He gave his honours to the world again,
His bleffed part to heaven, and flept in peace.
Cath. So may he reft; his faults lie gently on him!
Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak him,
And yet with charity;-He was a man
Of an unbounded stomach,(2) ever ranking
Himfelf with princes; one, that by fuggeftion
Ty'd all the kingdom: Simony was fair play;
His own opinion was his law: I'the prefence
He would fay untruths; and be ever double,
Both in his words and meaning: He was never,
But where he meant to ruin, pityful :
His promises were, as he then was, mighty;
But his performance, as he now is, nothing.
Of his own body he was ill, and gave
The clergy ill example.

Grif. Noble madam,

Men's evil manners live in brafs; their virtues
We write in water. May it please your highness
To hear me fpeak his good now?

Cath. Yes, good Griffith;

I were malicious elfe.

Grif. This cardinal,

Though from an humble ftock, undoubtedly
Was fashion'd to much honour. From his cradle,
He was a fcholar, and a ripe, and good one:
Exceeding wife, fair spoken, and persuading :
(2) i. e. Of unbounded pride or haughtiness.

STEEV.

Lofty, and four, to them that lov'd him not;
But, to those men that fought him, fweet as fummer.
And though he were unfatisfy'd in getting
(Which was a fin), yet in bestowing, madam,
He was moft princely: Ever witnefs for him
Thofe twins of learning, that he rais'd in you,
Ipswich, and Oxford ! one of which fell with him,
Unwilling to outlive the good he did it;

The other, though unfinish'd, yet so famous,
So excellent in art, and ftill fo rifing,
That Christendom fhall ever speak his virtue.
His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him;
For then, and not till then, he felt himself,
And found the bleffedness of being little :
And, to add greater honours to his age
Than man could give him, he dy'd, fearing God.
Cath. After my death I wish no other herald,
No other fpeaker of my living actions,
To keep mine honour from corruption,
But fuch an honeft chronicler as Griffith.
Whom I moft hated living, thou has made me,
With thy religious truth, and modefty,

Now in his afhes honour: Peace be with him!
Patience, be near me ftill; and fet me lower :
I have not long to trouble thee.-Good Griffith,
Caufe the muficians play me that fad note
I nam'd my knell, whilft I fit meditating
On that celeftial harmony I go to.

Sad and folemn Mufic.

Grif. She is afleep: Good wench, let's fit down quiet, For fear we wake her :-Softly, gentle Patience. The Vifion. Enter folemnly tripping one after another, fix Perfonages, clad in awhite Robes, wearing on their Heads Garlands of Bays, and golden Vizards on their Faces; Branches of Bays, or Palm, in their Hands. They first congée unto her, then Dance; and, et certain Changes, the first two hold a spare Garland over her Head; at which, the other four make reverend Courtefies; 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 last two, who likewife

obferve the fame Order: at which, (as it were by Infpiration) he makes in her fleep Signs of Rejoicing, and holdeth up her Hands to Heaven: and fo in their dancing they vanish, carrying the Garland with them. The Mufic continues.

Cath. Spirits of peace, where are ye? are ye all gone? And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye ?

Grif. Madam, we are here. Cath. It is not you I call for: Saw ye none enter fince I flept? Grif. None, madam.

Cath. No! Saw you not, even now, a bleffed troop Invite me to a banquet; whofe bright faces

Caft thousand beams upon me, like the fun?

They promis'd me eternal happiness;

And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel
I am not worthy yet to wear: I fhall,

Affuredly.

Grif. I am most joyful, madam, fuch good dreams Poffefs your fancy.

Cath. Bid the mufic leave ;

They are harsh and heavy to me.

Pat. Do you note,

[Mufic ceafes,

How much her grace is alter'd on the fudden?

How long her face is drawn? How pale fhe looks,

And of an earthly cold? Mark her eyes.

Grif. She is going, wench; pray, pray.
Pat. Heaven comfort her!

Enter a Meffenger.

Mef. An't like your grace,Cath. You are a faucy fellow : Deferve we no more reverence?

Grif. You are to blame,

Knowing, fhe will not lofe her wonted greatness,
To use fo rude behaviour: go to, kneel.

Mes.[Kneels.] I humbly do intreat your highness' pardon;
My hafte made me unmannerly: There is ftaying
A gentleman, fent from the king, to fee you.

Cath. Admit him entrance, Griffith: But this fellow, Let me ne'er fee again. [Exe. GRIFF. and Mef.

Re-enter GRIFFITH, with Lord CAPUCIUS.

-If my fight fail not,

You fhould be lord ambaffador from the emperor,