Anne. My good lord, Not your demand; it values not your ask ing: Our mistress' sorrows we were pitying. Cham. It was a gentle business, and becoming The action of good women: there is hope All will be well. Anne. Now, I pray God, amen! Cham. You bear a gentle mind, and heavenly blessings Follow such creatures. lady, That you may, fair Perceive I speak sincerely, and high note's Ta'en of your many virtues, the king's majesty Commends his good opinion of you, and Does purpose honour to you no less flowing Than Marchioness of Pembroke; to which title A thousand pound a year, annual support, Out of his grace he adds. Anne. I do not know What kind of my obedience I should tender; More than my all is nothing: nor my prayers Are not words duly hallowed, nor my wishes More worth than empty vanities; yet prayers and wishes Are all I can return. Beseech your lordship, Vouchsafe to speak my thanks and my obedience, As from a blushing handmaid, to his high ness, Whose health and royalty I pray for. Cham. Lady, I shall not fail to approve the fair conceit The king hath of you. perused her well; [aside] I have Beauty and honour in her are so mingled That they have caught the king: and who knows yet But from this lady may proceed a gem To lighten all this isle ?—I'll to the king, Anne. My honour'd lord. [exit Lord Chamberlain. Old L. Why, this it is; see, see! I have been begging sixteen years in court, Am yet a courtier beggarly, nor could Come pat betwixt too early and too late For any suit of pounds; and you, O fate! A very fresh fish here-fie, fie, fie upon This compell'd fortune!—have your mouth fill'd up Before you open it. Anne. This is strange to me. Old L. How tastes it? is it bitter? forty pence, no. There was a lady once, 'tis an old story, That would not be a queen, that would she not, For all the mud in Egypt: have you heard it? Anne. Come, you are pleasant. Old L. With your theme, I could O'ermount the lark. The Marchioness of Pembroke ! A thousand pounds a year for pure respect! No other obligation! By my life, That promises mo thousands: honour's train Is longer than his foreskirt. By this time Anne. Good lady, Make yourself mirth with your particular fancy, And leave me out on 't. Would I had no being, If this salute my blood a jot: it faints me, To think what follows. The queen is comfortless, and we forgetful In our long absence: pray, do not deliver What here you've heard to her. Old L. What do you think me? [exeunt. SCENE IV. A hall in Black-Friars. Trumpets, sennet and cornets. Enter two Vergers, with short silver wands; next them, two Scribes, in the habit of doctors; after them, the ARCHBISHOP of CANTERBURY alone; after him, the BISHOPS of LINCOLN, ELY, ROCHESTER, and SAINT ASAPH; next them, with some small distance, follows a Gentleman bearing the purse, with the great seal, and a cardinal's hat; then two Priests, bearing each a silver cross; then a Gentleman Usher bare-headed, accompanied with a Sergeant at arms bearing a silver mace; then two Gentlemen bearing two great silver pillars; after them, side by side, the two CARDINALS; two Noblemen with the sword and mace. The KING takes place under the cloth of state; the two CARDINALS sit under him as judges. The QUEEN takes place some distance from the KING. The BISHOPS place themselves on each side the court, in manner of a consistory; below them, the Scribes. The LORDS sit next the BISHOPS. The rest of the Attendants stand in convenient order about the stage. Wol. Whilst our commission from Rome is read, Let silence be commanded. King. What's the need? It hath already publicly been read, Wol. Be 't so. Proceed. Scribe. Say, Henry King of England, come into the court. Crier. Henry King of England, &c. Scribe. Say, Katharine Queen of England, come into the court. Crier. Katharine Queen of England, &c. [The Queen makes no answer, rises out of her chair, goes about the court, comes to the King, and kneels at his feet; then speaks. Q. Kath. Sir, I desire you do me right and justice, And to bestow your pity on me; for |