QUEEN KATHERINE.

Griffith. She is asleep: Good wench, let's sit down quiet,

For fear we wake her;-Softly, gentle Patience.

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

Katherine. 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.

Griffith. I am most joyful, madam, such good dreams

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?
Griffith. She is going, wench; pray, pray.

Patience.

Heaven comfort her!
Katherine.
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 wench,
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.

KING HENRY VIII.- Act IV. Scene II.