Re-enter WOLSEY, with GARDINER.

Wol. Give me your hand: much joy and favour to you :

You are the king's now.

Gard. But to be commanded

Forever by your grace, whose hand has rais'd me. [Aside.

K. Hen. Come hither, Gardiner.

[They converse apart

Cam. My lord of York, was not one doctor Pace

In this man's place before him ?

Wol. Yes, he was.

Cam. Was he not held a learned man?

Wol. Yes, surely.

Cam. Believe me, there's an ill opinion spread then

Even of yourself, lord cardinal.

Wol. How! of me?

Cam. They will not stick to say, you envy'd him ;
And, fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous,
Kept him a foreign man still ; which so griev'd him,
That he ran mad, and dy'd.

Wol. Heaven's peace be with him !
That's Christian care enough: for living murmurers,
There's places of rebuke. He was a fool;
For he would needs be virtuous : That good fellow,
If I command him, follows my appointment;
I will have none so near else. Learn this, brother.
We live not to be grip'd by meaner persons.

K. Hen. Deliver this with modesty to the queen.

[Exit GARDINER

The most convenient place that I can think of,
For such receipt of learning, is Black-Friars ;
There ye shall meet about this weighty business :--
My Wolsey, see it furnish'd.-O my lord,

Would it not grieve an able man, to leave

So sweet a bed-fellow? But, conscience, conscience,

O, 'tis a tender place, and I must leave her.

SCENE II.

[Exeunt.

An Ante-chamber in the Queen's Apartment. Enter ANNE

BULLEN, and an old Lady.

Anne. Not for that neither; -Here's the pang that

pinches:

His highness having liv'd so long with her; and she
So good a lady, that no tongue could ever
Pronounce dishonour of her, by my life,
She never knew harm-doing; -0 now, after

[3] Kept him out of the king's presence, employed in foreign embassies. JOHNS

So many courses of the sun enthron'd,
Still growing in a majesty and pomp,-the which

To leave is a thousand-fold more bitter, than

'Tis sweet at first to acquire, after this process,

To give her the avaunt! it is a pity

Would move a monster.

Old L. Hearts of most hard temper Melt and lament for her.

Anne. O, God's will! much better,

She ne'er had known pomp: though it be temporal,
Yet, if that quarrel, fortune, do divorce

It from the bearer, 'tis a sufferance, panging

As soul and body's severing.

Old L. Alas, poor lady!

She's a stranger now again.

Anne. So much the more

Must pity drop upon her. Verily,'
I swear, 'tis better to be lowly born,
And range with humble livers in content,
Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief,
And wear a golden sorrow.
Old L. Our content

Is our best having."

Anne. By my troth, and maidenhead,

I would not be a queen.

Old L. Beshrew me, I would,

And venture maidenhead for't; and so would you,
For all this spice of your hypocrisy :
You, that have so fair parts of woman on you,
Have too a woman's heart; which ever yet

Affected eminence, wealth, sovereignty;

Which, to say sooth, are blessings: and which gifts
(Saving your mincing) the capacity

Of your soft cheveril conscience would receive,
If you might please to stretch it.

Anne. Nay, good troth,

Old L. Yes, troth, and troth, - You would not be a queen?

[4] To send her away contemptuously: to pronounce against her a sentence of ejection. JOHNSON.

[5] She calls Fortune a quarrel or arrow from her striking so deep and suddenly. Quarrel was a large arrow so called. Thus Fairfax:

"--twang'd the string, out flew the quarrel long." WARBURTON.

[6] Again an alien; not only no longer queen, but no longer an English woman.

JOHNSON.

JOIINSON.

Anne. No, not for all the riches under heaven.

Old L. 'Tis strange; a three-pence bowed would hire me,

Old as I am, to queen it: But, I pray you,

What think you of a duchess? have you limbs

To bear that load of title ?

Anne. No, in truth.

Old L. Then you are weakly made: Pluck off a little;

I would not be a young count in your way,

For more than blushing comes to: if your back
Cannot vouchsafe this burden, 'tis too weak
Ever to get a boy.

Anne. How you do talk !

I swear again, I would not be a queen
For all the world.

Old L. In faith, for little England
You'd venture an emballing: I myself
Would for Carnarvonshire, although there 'long'd
No more to the crown but that. Lo, who comes here?

Enter the Lord Chamberlain.

Cham. Good morrow, ladies. What wer't worth to know

The secret of your conference?

Anne. My good lord,

Not your demand; it values not your asking :

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. That you may, fair lady,
Perceive I speak sincerely, and high note's
Ta'en of your many virtues, the king's majesty
Commends his good opinion to 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 hallow'd, 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,

10

VOL. VII

G

1

As from a blushing handmaid, to his highness;
Whose health, and royalty, I pray for.

Cham. Lady,

I shall not fail to approve the fair conceit,

The king hath of you. I have perus'd her well;

Beauty and honour in her are so mingled,

[Aside.

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,

And say, I spoke with you.

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, (fye, fye, upon
This compeli'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 Ægypt :-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 more thousands: Honour's train
Is longer than his fore-skirt. By this time,
I know, your back will bear a duchess ;-Say,
Are you not stronger than you were?

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 you have heard, to her.

Old L. What do you think me?

[Exeunt.

[1] From the many artful strokes of address the poet has thrown in upon queen Elizabeth and her mother, it should seem that this play was written and performed in his royal mistress's time: if so, some lines were added by him in the last scene, after the accession of king James. THEOBALD

SCENE IV.

A Hall in Black-Fryars. Trumpets, Sennet, and Cornets. Enter two Vergers, with short silver wands; next them, two Scribes, in the habits 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 WOLSEY and CAMPEIUS; two Noblemen with the sword and mace. Then enter the King and Queen, and their Trains. The King takes place under the cloth of state; the two Cardinals sit under him as judges. The Queen takes place at some distance from the King. The Bishops place themselves on each side the court, in manner of a consistory; between them, the Scribes. The Lords sit next the Bishops. The Crier and the rest of the Attendants stand in convenient order about the stage.

Wol. Whilst our commission from Rome is read Let silence be commanded.

K. Hen. What's the need?

It hath already publicly been read,

And on all sides the authority allow'd;

You may then spare that time.

Wol. Be't so :-Proceed.

Scri. Say, Henry king of England, come into the court. Crier. Henry king of England, &c.

K. Hen. Here.

Scri. Say, Katharine queen of England come into 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.