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.

[palt.

1 Gen. You must no more call it York-place, that's For fince the Cardinal fell, that title's loft; 'Tis now the King's, and called Whitehall. 3 Gen. I know it:

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

2 Gen What two reverend bishops

Were thofe that went on each fide of the Queen?

3 Gen. Stokefly and Gardiner; the one of Winchester, Newly preferr'd from the King's Secretary;

The other, London.

2 Gen He of Winchester

Is held no great good lover of th' 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 esteem with th' King, and truly
A worthy friend. The King has made him

Mafter o' th' jewel house,

And one, already, of the privy council.

2 Gen. He will deferve more.

3 Gen. Yes, without all doubt.

Come, Gentlemen, you thall both go my way, Which is to the court, and there fhall be my guests: Something I can command; as I walk thither,

Enter Catharine 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 th' earth,

Reach a chair

Willing to leave their burden.
So- -now methinks I feel a little eafe. [Sitting down.
Did thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou led'st 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 stept before me happily,

For my example.

Grif. Well, the voice goes, Madam.
For after the ftout Earl of Northumberland
Arrested him at York, and brought him forward
(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 last, with easy roads he came to Liecefter;
Lodg'd in the abbey, where the Rev'rend Abbot,
With all his convent, honourably receiv'd him;
To whom he gave these words, O Father Abbot,
An old man, broken with the ftorms 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 fickness.
Purfu'd him ftill, and three nights after this,
About the bour 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 heav'n, 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 itomach; ever ranking
"Himself with princes: one that, by fuggetion,
"Ty'd all the kingdom: fimony was fair play:
"His own opinion was his law. I'th'prefence
"He would fay untruths, and be ever double
"Both in his words and meaning. He was never,
i. c. inflaved.

"But where he meant to ruin, pitiful.

"His promiles 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,

Mens evil manners live in brafs, their virtues
We write in water. May it pleale your Highness
To hear me speak 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 craddle.
He was a fcholar, and a ripe and good one;
Exceeding wife, fair fpoken, and perfuading;
Lofty and four to them that lov'd him not;
But to thofe men that ought him, fweet as fummer.
And though he were untatisty'd in getting,
(Which was a fin); yet in bestowing, Madam,
He was most princely. Ever witnefs for him
Thofe twins of learning that he rais'd in you,
Jpfwich 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 forifing,
That Christendom fhall ever speak his virtue.
His overthrow heap'd happinefs upon him;.
For then, and not till then, he felt himself,
And found the bleffednefs of being little:
And to add greater honours to his age
Than man could give him, he dy'd tearing God.
Cath. After my death I wish no other herald,
No other speaker of my living actions,
To keep mine honour from corruption,
But fuch an honeft chronicler as Griffith.

Whom i mot hated living, thou haft made me,
With thy religious truth and modelty,

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,

... he abused his body by intemperance and luxury,

Cause the musicians play me that fad note
I nam'd my knell, whilft I fit meditating
On that celestial harmony I go to.

Sad and folemn music.

Grif. She is afleep: good wench, let's fit down quiet For fear we wake her. Softly, gentle patience. The vifion. Enter folemnly one after another, fix perfon ages, clad in white robes, wearing on their heads gar. lands 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 afpare garland over her head, at which the other four make reverend curtfies; 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 Jame order: (at which, as it were by inspiration, she makes in her fleep figns 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 gone? And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye? Grif. Madam, we're here.

Cath. It is not you I call for ;
Saw ye none enter fince I flept?
Grif. None, Madam

Cath. No faw you not ev'n now a blessed troop
Invite me to a banquet, whose oright 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 thall affuredly.
Grif. I am mot joyful, Madam, such good dreams
Poffefs your fancy.

Cath. Bid the mufic leave,

iis harth and heavy to me.

Pat Do you note

[Mfic ceafes.

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

How long her face is drawn? how pale the looks,
And of an earthly cold? oblerve her eyes.

Grif. She is going, wench. Pray, pray,-
Pat. Heav'n comfort her!

Enter a Messenger.

Me. An't like your Grace-
Cath. You are a faucy fellow;
Deferve we no more rev'rence?
Grif. You're to blame,

Knowing the will not lofe her wonted greatness,
To use lo rude behaviour. Go to, kneel.

Me I humbly do intreat your Highnéfs' pardon:
My hafte made me unmannerly. There is ftaying
A gentleman fent from the King, to see you.
Cath. Admit him entrance, Griffith.
Let me ne er fee again.

Enter Lord Capucius.

If my fight fail not,

But this fellow [Exit Meffenger.

You fhould be Lord Ambaffador from the Emperor,
My Royal nephew, and your name Capucius
Cap. Madam, the fame, your fervant.

Cath. O my Lord,

The times and titles now are alter'd strangely
With me, fince firft you knew me.

What is your pleasure with me?

Cap Noble Lady,

But, I pray you,

Firft, mine own fervice to your Grace; the next,

The King's requeft that I would vifit you;

Who grieves much for your weakness, and by me

Sends you his princely commendations,

And heartily intreats you take good comfort.

Cath. O my good Lord, that comfort comes too late;

'Tis like a pardon after execution;

- That gentle phyfic giv`n in time, had cur'd me. But now I'm paft all comforts here but prayers. How does his Highness?

Cap. Madam, in good health.

Cath. So may he ever do, and ever flourish,

When I fhall dwell with worms, and my poor name be Banifh'd the kingdom! Patience, is that letter

I caus'd you write, yet fent away?

Pat. No, Madam.

Gath. Sir, I muft humbly prey you to deliver