2 Gent. A royal train, believe me.-These I

know;—

Who's that, that bears the scepter? 1 Gent.

Marquis Dorset: And that the earl of Surrey, with the rod. 2 Gent. A bold brave gentleman: And that should

be The duke of Suffolk. 1 Gent.

'Tis the same; high-steward. 2 Gent. And that my lord of Norfolk? 1 Gent.

Yes. 2 Gent.

Heaven bless thee!

[Looking on the Queen. Thou hast the sweetest face I ever look'd on. Sir, as I have a soul, she is an angel; Our king has all the Indies in his arms, And more, and richer, when he strains that lady: I cannot blame his conscience. 1 Gent.

They, that bear The cloth of honour over her, are four barons Of the Cinque-ports. 2 Gent. Those men are happy; and so are all,

are near her. I take it, she that carries up the train, Is that old noble lady, duchess of Norfolk.

i Gent. It is; and all the rest are countesses. 2 Gent. Their coronets say so. These are stars,

indeed; And, sometimes, falling ones. 1 Gent.

No more of that. [Exit Procession, with a great flourish of

Trumpets.

Enter a third Gentleman. God save you, sir! Where have you been broiling? 3 Gent. Among the croud i'the abbey; where a finger

S

VOL. VII.

Could not be wedg'd in more; and I am stifted
With the mere rankness of their joy.
2 Gent.

You saw
The ceremony?

3 Gent. That I did. 1 Gent.

How was it? 3 Gent. Well worth the seeing. 2 Gent.

Good sir, speak it to us. 3 Gent. As well as I am able. The rich stream Of lords, and ladies, having brought the queen To a prepar'd place in the choir, fell off A distance from her; while her grace sat down To rest a while, some half an hour, or so, In a rich chair of state, opposing freely The beauty of her person to the people. Believe me, sir, she is the goodliest woman That ever lay by man: which when the people Had the full view of, such a noise arose As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest, As loud, and to as many tunes: hats, cloaks, (Doublets, I think,) flew up; and had their faces Been loose, this day they had been lost. Such joy I never saw before. Great-bellied women, That had not half a week to go, like rams In the old time of war, would shake the press, And make them reel before them. No man living Could say, This is my wife, there; all were woven So strangely in one piece. 2 Gent.

But, 'pray, what follow'd? 3 Gent. At length her grace rose, and with mo

dest paces

Came to the altar; where she kneelid, and, saint-like, Cast her fair eyes to heaven, and pray'd devoutly. Then rose again, and bow'd her to the people: When by the archbishop of Canterbury

Sir, you

She had all the royal makings of a queen;
As holy oil, Edward Confessor's crown,
The rod, and bird of peace, and all such emblems
Laid nobly on her; which perform'd, the choir,
With all the choicest musick of the kingdom,
Together sung Te Deum. So she parted,
And with the same full state pac'd back again
To York-place, where the feast is held.

1 Gent.
Must no more call it York-place, that is past:
For, since the cardinal fell, that title's lost;
'Tis now the king's, and call’d—Whitehall.
3 Gent.

I know it; But 'tis so lately alter'd, that the old name Is fresh about me. 2 Gent.

What two reverend bishops Were those that went on each side of the queen? 3 Gent. Stokesly and Gardiner; the one, of

Winchester,
(Newly preferr'd from the king's secretary,)
The other, London.
2 Gent.

He of Winchester
Is held no great good lover of the archbishop's,
The virtuous Cranmer.
3 Gent.

All the land knows that: However, yet there's no great breach; when it

comes, Cranmer will find a friend will not shrink from him.

2 Gent. Who may that be, I pray you? 3 Gent.

Thomas Cromwell; Ą man in much esteem with the king, and truly A worthy friend.-The king Has made him master oʻthe jewel-house, And one, already, of the privy-council

. 2 Gent. He will deserve more. 3 Gent.

Yes, without all doubt. Come, gentlemen, ye shall go my way, which

Is to the court, and there ye shall be my guests;
Something I can command. As I walk thither,
I'll tell ye more.
Both.
You may command us, sir.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Kimbolton.

Enter KATHARINE, Dowager, sick; led between

GRIFFITH and PATIENCE.
Grif. How does your grace?
Kath.

O, Griffith, sick to death:
My legs, like loaden branches, bow to the earth,
Willing to leave their burden: Reach a chair ;-
So,-now, methinks, I feel a little ease.
Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou led'st me,
That the great child of honour, cardinal Wolsey,
Was dead?

Grif. Yes, madam; but, I think, your grace,
Out of the pain you suffer'd, gave no ear to't.
Kath. Pr’ythee, good Griffith, tell me how he

died:
If well, he stepp'd before me, happily,"
For my example.
Grif.

Well, the voice goes, madam:
For after the stout earl Northumberland
Arrested him at York, and brought him forward

• Scene II.] This scene is above any other part of Shakspeare's tragedies, and perhaps above any scene of any other poet, tender and pathetick, without gods, or furies, or poisons, or precipices, without the help of romantick circumstances, without improbable. sallies of poetical lamentation, and without any throes of tumultuous misery. Johnson.

he stepp'd before me, happily, For my example.] Happily means on this occasion-fortunately.

1

(As a man sorely tainted,) to his answer,
He fell sick suddenly, and grew so ill,
He could not sit his mule.
Kath.

Alas, poor man!
Grif. At last, with easy 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 these words,- father abbot, An old man, broken with the storms of state, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye; Give him a little earth for charity! So went to bed: where eagerly his sickness Pursu'd him still; and, three nights after this, About the hour of eight, (which he himself Foretold, should be his last,) full of repentance, Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows, He gave his honours to the world again, His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace.

Kath. So may he rest; his faults lie gently on him! Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak him, And with charity,–He was a man Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking Himself with princes; one, that by suggestion Ty'd all the kingdom:* simony was fair play; His own opinion was his law: l’the presence He would say untruths; and be ever double, Both in his words and meaning: He was never, But where he meant to ruin, pitiful:

yet

2

with easy roads,] i. e. by short stages. Of an unbounded stomach,] i. e. of unbounded pride, haughtiness.