Now in his ashes honour: Peace be with him!-
Patience, be near me still; and set me lower:
I have not long to trouble thee.--Good Griffith,
Cause the musicians play me that sad note
I nam'd my knell, whilst I sit meditating
On that celestial harmony I go to.

Sad and solemn musich. Grif. She is asleep: Good wench, let's sit down

quiet, For fear we wake her;-Softly, gentle Patience. The Vision. Enter, solemnly tripping one after

another, six Personages, 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 first 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 court'sies; then the two, that held the garland, deliver the same to the other next two, who observe the same order in their changes, and holding the garland over her head: which done, they deliver the same garland to the last two, who likewise observe the same order: at which, (as it were by inspiration,) she makes in her sleep signs of rejoicing, and holdeth up her hands to heaven: and so in their dancing they vanish, carrying the garland with them. The musick continues.

Kath. Spirits of peace, where are ye? Are ye all

gone?
And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye?

Grif. Madam, we are here.
Kath.

It is not you I call for: Saw ye none enter, since I slept?

Grif.

None, madam. Kath. No? Saw you not, even now, a blessed

troop
Invite me to a banquet; whose bright faces
Cast thousand beams upon me, like the sun?
They promis’d me eternal happiness;
And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel
I am not worthy yet to wear: I shall,
Assuredly.

Grif. I am most joyful, madam, such good dreams
Possess your fancy.
Kath.

Bid the musick leave, They are harsh and heavy to me. [Musick ceases. Pat.

Do you note, How much her grace is alter'd on the sudden? How long her face is drawn? How pale she looks, And of an earthly cold? Mark you her eyes?

Grif. She is going, wench; pray, pray.
Pat.

Heaven comfort her!

Enter a Messenger. Mess. An't like your grace, Kath.

You are a saucy fellow: Deserve we no more reverence? Grif.

You are to blame, Knowing, she will not lose her wonted greatness, To use so rude behaviour: go to, kneel.

Mess. I humbly do entreat your highness' pardon; My haste made me unmannerly: There is staying A gentleman, sent from the king, to see you. Kath. Admit him entrance, Griffith: But this

fellow Let me ne'er see again.

[Exeunt GRIFFITH and Messenger. Re-enter Griffith, with CAPUCIUS.

If my sight fail not, You should be lord ambassador from the

emperor, My royal nephew, and your name Capucius.

Cap. Madam, the same, your servant.
Kath.

O my lord,
The times, and titles, now are alter'd strangely
With me, since first you knew me. But, I pray you,
What is your pleasure with me?
Cap.

Noble lady, First, mine own service to your grace; the next, The king's request that I would visit you; Who grieves much for your weakness, and by me Sends

you his princely commendations, And heartily entreats you take good comfort. Kath. O my good lord, that comfort comes too

late; 'Tis like a pardon after execution: That gentle physick, given in time, had cur'd me; But now I am past all comforts here, but prayers. How does his highness? Сар. .

Madam, in good health. Kath. So inay he ever do! and ever flourish, When I shall dwell with worms, and my poor name Banish'd the kingdom!—Patience, is that letter, I caus'd you write, yet sent away

y? Pat.

No, madam.

[Giving it to Katharine. Kath. Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliver This to my lord the king. Сар. .

Most willing, madam. Kath. In which I have commended to his goodness The model of our chaste loves, his young daugh

The dews of heaven fall thick in blessings on her!-
Beseeching him, to give her virtuous breeding;
(She is young, and of a noble modest nature;
I hope, she will deserve well;) and a little
To love her for her mother's sake, that lov'd him,
Heaven knows how dearly. My next poor petition
Is, that his noble grace would have some pity
Upon my wretched women, that so long,
Have follow'd both

my

fortunes faithfully: Of which there is not one, I dare avow, (And now I should not lie,) but will deserve, For virtue, and true beauty of the soul, For honesty, and decent carriage, A right good husband, let him be a noble; And, sure, those men are happy that shall have them. The last is, for my men ;—they are the poorest, But poverty could never draw them from me;That they may have their wages duly paid them, And something over to remember me by; If heaven had pleas’d to have given me longer life, And able means, we had not parted thus. These are the whole contents:-And, good my lord, By that you love the dearest in this world, As you wish christian peace to souls departed, Stand these poor people's friend, and urge the king To do me this last right. Сар. .

By heaven, I will; Or let me lose the fashion of a man!

Kath. I thank you, honest lord. Remember me In all humility unto his highness: Say, his long trouble now is passing Out of this world: tell him, in death I bless'd him, For so I will.—Mine eyes grow dim.-Farewell, My lord.—Griffith, farewell.-Nay, Patience, You must not leave me yet. I must to bed; Call in more women. When I am dead, good

Let me be us'd with honour; strew me over
With maiden flowers, that all the world

may

know I was a chaste wife to my grave: embalm me, Then lay me forth: although unqueen'd, yet like A queen, and daughter to a king, inter me. I can no more. - [Exeunt, leading KATHARINE.

ACT V.

SCENE I. A Gallery in the Palace.

Enter GARDINER, Bishop of Winchester, a

Page with a Torch before him, met by Sir Thomas LOVELL. Gar. It's one o'clock, boy, is't not? Boy.

It hath struck. Gar. These should be hours for necessities, Not for delights; times to repair our nature With comforting repose, and not for us To waste these times.—Good hour of night, sir

Thomas ! Whither so late?

Loυ. . Came you from the king, my lord?

Gar. I did, sir Thomas; and left him at primeros With the duke of Suffolk. Lov.

I must to him too, Before he go to bed. I'll take my

leave. Car. Not yet, sir Thomas Lovell. What's the

matter? It seems, you are in haste; an if there be,