I then did feel full sick, and yet not well,一

By all the reverend fathers of the land,

And doctors learn'd.-First, I began in private
With you, my lord of Lincoln ; you remember

How under my oppression I did reek,

When I first mov'd you.

Lin. Very well, my liege.

K. Hen, I have spoke long; be pleas'd yourself to say

How far you satisfied me.

Lin. So please your highness,

The question did at first so stagger me,

Bearing a state of mighty moment in't,

And consequence of dread, -that I committed
The daring'st counsel which I had, to doubt;
And did entreat your highness to this course,
Which you are running here.

K. Hen. I then mov'd you,
My lord of Canterbury; and got your leave
To make this present summons :-Unsolicited
I left no reverend person in this court;
But by particular consent proceeded,
Under your hands and seals. Therefore, go on :
For no dislike i'the world against the person
Of the good queen, but the sharp thorny points
Of my alleged reasons, drive this forward :
Prove but our marriage lawful, by my life,
And kingly dignity, we are contented
To wear our mortal state to come, with her,
Katharine our queen, before the primest creature
That's paragon'd o'the world.

Cam. So please your highness,
The queen being absent, 'tis a needful fitness
That we adjourn this court till further day;
Mean while must be an earnest motion

Made to the queen, to call back her appeal
She intends unto his holiness.

K. Hen. I may perceive,

[They rise to depart.

These cardinals trifle with me: I abhor
This dilatory sloth, and tricks of Rome.
My learn'd and well-beloved servant, Cranmer,
Pr'ythee, return! with thy approach, I know,

My comfort comes along. Break up the court :
I say, set on.

[Aside.

[Exeunt, in manner as they enter'd.

VOL. VII.

Ge

ACT III.

SCENE I.-Palace at Bridewell. A Room in the Queen's Apartment. The Queen, and some of her women, at work.

Q. Katharine.

TAKE thy lute, wench: my soul grows sad with troubles;
Sing, and disperse them, if thou canst : leave working.
SONG.

Orpheus with his lute made trees,
And the mountain-tops, that freeze,
Bow themselves, when he did sing :
To his music, plants, and flowers,
Ever sprung; as sun, and showers,

There had been a lasting spring.
Every thing that heard him play,
Even the billows of the sea,

Hung their heads, and then lay by
In sweet music is such art;
Killing care, and grief of heart,
Fall asleep, or, hearing, die.
Enter a Gentleman.

Q. Kath. How now ?

Gen. An't please your grace, the two great cardinals

Wait in the presence.

Q. Kath. Would they speak with me?

Gen. They will'd me say so, madam.

Q. Kath. Pray their graces

To come near. [Exit Gen.] What can be their business

With me, a poor weak woman, fallen from favour ?

I do not like their coming, now I think on't.

They should be good men; their affairs are righteous :

But all hoods make not monks.

Enter WOLSEY and CAMPEIUS.

Wol. Peace to your highness!

Q. Kath. Your graces find me here part of a housewife:

I would be all, against the worst may happen.
What are your pleasures with me, reverend lords?

Wol. May it please you, noble madam, to withdraw
Into your private chamber, we shall give you

The full cause of our coming.

[3] Affairs means not their present errand, but the business of their calling. JOHNSON.

:

Q. Kath. Speak it here;

There's nothing I have done yet, o' my conscience,

Deserves a corner: 'Would all other women

Could speak this with as free a soul as I do!

My lords, I care not, (so much I am happy

Above a number,) if my actions

Were tried by every tongue, every eye saw them,

Envy and base opinion set against them,

I know my life so even: If your business
Seek me out, and that way I am wife in,

Out with it boldly; Truth loves open dealing.

Wol. Tanta est erga te mentis integritas, regina serenis

sima,

Q. Kath O, good my lord, no Latin;
I am not such a truant since my coming,

As not to know the language I have liv'd in:

A strange tongue makes my cause more strange, sus

picious;

Pray, speak in English: here are some will thank you,
If you speak truth, for their poor mistress' sake;
Believe me, she has had much wrong: Lord cardinal,
The willing'st sin I ever yet committed,
May be absolv'd in English.

Wol. Noble lady,

I am sorry, my integrity should breed,
(And service to his majesty and you,)
So deep suspicion, where all faith was meant.
We come not by the way of accusation,
To taint that honour every good tongue blesses;
Nor to betray you any way to sorrow;
You have too much, good lady: but to know
How you stand minded in the weighty difference
Between the king and you; and to deliver,
Like free and honest men, our just opinions,
And comforts to your cause.

Cam. Most honour'd madam,
My lord of York, -out of his noble nature,
Zeal and obedience he still bore your grace;
Forgetting, like a good man, your late censure
Both of his truth and him, (which was too far,)-
Offers, as I do, in a sign of peace,

[5] I would be glad that my conduct were in some public trial confronted with mine enemies, that envy and corrupt judgment might try their utmost power against me. JOHNSON.

[6] That is, if you come to examine the title by which I am the king's wife; or if you come to know how I have behaved as a wife. JOHNSON.

1

His service and his counsel.

Q. Kath. To betray me.

My lords, I thank you both for your good wills,

[Aside.

Ye speak like honest men, (pray God, ye prove so!)

But how to make you suddenly an answer,

In such a point of weight, so near mine honour, (More near my life, I fear,) with my weak wit,

And to such men of gravity and learning,

In truth, I know not. I was set at work

Among my maids; full little, God knows, looking
Either for such men, or such business.

For her sake that I have been, (for I feel

The last fit of my greatness,) good your graces,
Let me have time, and counsel, for my cause;
Alas! I am a woman, friendless, hopeless.

Wol. Madam, you wrong the king's love with these fears:

Your hopes and friends are infinite.

Q. Kath. In England,

But little for my profit: Can you think, lords,
That any Englishman dare give me counsel?
Or be a known friend, 'gainst his highness' pleasure,
(Though he be grown so desperate to be honest,)*
And live a subject ? Nay, forsooth, my friends,
They that must weigh out my afflictions,

They that my trust must grow to, live not here;
They are, as all my other comforts, far hence,
In mine own country, lords.

Cam. I would, your grace

Would leave your griefs, and take my counsel.

Q. Kath. How, sir?

Cam. Put your main cause into the king's protection;

He's loving, and most gracious; 'twill be much

Both for your honour better, and your cause;

For, if the trial of the law o'ertake you,

You'll part away disgrac'd.

Wol. He tells you rightly.

Q. Kath. Ye tell me what ye wish for both, my ruin :

Is this your christian counsel? out upon ye!
Heaven is above all yet; there sits a Judge,
That no king can corrupt.

Cam. Your rage mistakes us.

[3] Do you think that any Englishman dare advise me; or, if any man should venture to advise with honesty, that he could live? JOHNSON.

[4] To weigh out is the same as to ontweigh. In Macbeth, Shakespeare has overcome for come over. STEEVENS.

Q. Kath. The more shame for ye; holy men I thought

ye,

Upon my soul, two reverend cardinal virtues;
But cardinal sins, and hollow hearts, I fear ye:
Mend them for shame, my lords. Is this your comfort ?
The cordial that ye bring a wretched lady?
A woman lost among ye, laugh'd at, scorn'd?
I will not wish ye half my miseries,

I have more charity: But say; I warn'd ye;
Take heed, for heaven's sake, take heed, lest at once
The burden of my sorrows fall upon ye.

Wol. Madam, this is a mere distraction;

You turn the good we offer into envy.

Q. Kath. Ye turn me into nothing: Woe upon ye,
And all such false professors! Would ye have me
(If you have any justice, any pity;
If ye be any thing but churchmen's habits,)
Put my sick cause into his hands that hates me?
Alas! he has banish'd me his bed already;
His love, too long ago: I am old, my lords,
And all the fellowship I hold now with him
Is only my obedience. What can happen
To me, above this wretchedness? all your studies
Make me a curse like this.

Cam. Your fears are worse.

Q. Kath. Have I liv'd thus long-(let me speak myself, Since virtue finds no friends)-a wife, a true one?

A woman (I dare say, without vain-glory,)

Never yet branded with suspicion?

Have I with all my full affections

Still met the king? lov'd him next heaven? obey'd him?
Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him ?
Almost forgot my prayers to content him?
And am I thus rewarded? 'tis not well, lords.
Bring me a constant woman to her husband,
One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure;
And to that woman, when she hath done most,
Yet will I add an honour, -a great patience.

Wol. Madam, you wander from the good we aim at.
Q. Kath. My lord, I dare not make myself so guilty,

To give up willingly that noble title

[5] If I mistake you, it is by your fault, not mine; for I thought you good. The distress of Katharine might have kept her from the quibble to which she is irresistibly tempted by the word cardinal. JOHNSON.

[6] That is, served him with superstitious attention; done more than was required.

JOHNSON.