in English  home page in Italiano  pagina iniziale by logo

Yoga Roma Parioli Pony Express Raccomandate Roma

Ebook in formato Kindle (mobi) - Kindle File Ebook (mobi)

Formato per Iphone, Ipad e Ebook (epub) - Ipad, Iphone and Ebook reader format (epub)

Versione ebook di powered by


by William Shakespeare


CAPUCIUSAmbassador from the Emperor Charles V
CROMWELLservant to Wolsey
GRIFFITHgentleman-usher to Queen Katharine
DOCTOR BUTTSphysician to the King
SURVEYOR to the Duke of Buckingham
DOORKEEPER of the Council chamber
PORTERand his MAN PAGE to Gardiner

QUEEN KATHARINEwife to King Henryafterwards divorced
ANNE BULLENher Maid of Honourafterwards Queen
AN OLD LADYfriend to Anne Bullen
PATIENCEwoman to Queen Katharine

Lord MayorAldermenLords and Ladies in the Dumb
Shows; Women attending upon the Queen; Scribes
OfficersGuardsand other Attendants; Spirits


London; Westminster; Kimbolton



I come no more to make you laugh; things now
That bear a weighty and a serious brow
Sadhighand workingfull of state and woe
Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow
We now present. Those that can pity here
Mayif they think it welllet fall a tear:
The subject will deserve it. Such as give
Their money out of hope they may believe
May here find truth too. Those that come to see
Only a show or twoand so agree
The play may passif they be still and willing
I'll undertake may see away their shilling
Richly in two short hours. Only they
That come to hear a merry bawdy play
A noise of targetsor to see a fellow
In a long motley coat guarded with yellow
Will be deceiv'd; forgentle hearersknow
To rank our chosen truth with such a show
As fool and fight isbeside forfeiting
Our own brainsand the opinion that we bring
To make that only true we now intend
Will leave us never an understanding friend.
Thereforefor goodness sakeand as you are known
The first and happiest hearers of the town
Be sadas we would make ye. Think ye see
The very persons of our noble story
As they were living; think you see them great
And follow'd with the general throng and sweat
Of thousand friends; thenin a momentsee
How soon this mightiness meets misery.
And if you can be merry thenI'll say
A man may weep upon his wedding-day.


London. The palace

Enter the DUKE OF NORFOLK at one door; at the other

BUCKINGHAM. Good morrowand well met. How have ye done
Since last we saw in France?

NORFOLK. I thank your Grace
Healthful; and ever since a fresh admirer
Of what I saw there.

BUCKINGHAM. An untimely ague
Stay'd me a prisoner in my chamber when
Those suns of glorythose two lights of men
Met in the vale of Andren.

NORFOLK. 'Twixt Guynes and Arde--
I was then presentsaw them salute on horseback;
Beheld themwhen they lightedhow they clung

In their embracementas they grew together;
Which had theywhat four thron'd ones could have weigh'd
Such a compounded one?

BUCKINGHAM. All the whole time
I was my chamber's prisoner.

NORFOLK. Then you lost
The view of earthly glory; men might say
Till this time pomp was singlebut now married
To one above itself. Each following day
Became the next day's mastertill the last
Made former wonders its. To-day the French
All clinquantall in goldlike heathen gods
Shone down the English; and to-morrow they
Made Britain India: every man that stood
Show'd like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were
As cherubinsall gilt; the madams too
Not us'd to toildid almost sweat to bear
The pride upon themthat their very labour
Was to them as a painting. Now this masque
Was cried incomparable; and th' ensuing night
Made it a fool and beggar. The two kings
Equal in lustrewere now bestnow worst
As presence did present them: him in eye
Still him in praise; and being present both
'Twas said they saw but oneand no discerner
Durst wag his tongue in censure. When these suns-For
so they phrase 'em--by their heralds challeng'd
The noble spirits to armsthey did perform
Beyond thought's compassthat former fabulous story
Being now seen possible enoughgot credit
That Bevis was believ'd.

BUCKINGHAM. Oyou go far!

NORFOLK. As I belong to worshipand affect
In honour honestythe tract of ev'rything
Would by a good discourser lose some life
Which action's self was tongue to. All was royal:
To the disposing of it nought rebell'd;
Order gave each thing view. The office did
Distinctly his full function.

BUCKINGHAM. Who did guide-I
meanwho set the body and the limbs
Of this great sport togetheras you guess?

NORFOLK. Onecertesthat promises no element

In such a business.
BUCKINGHAM. I pray youwhomy lord?
NORFOLK. All this was ord'red by the good discretion

Of the right reverend Cardinal of York.

BUCKINGHAM. The devil speed him! No man's pie is freed
From his ambitious finger. What had he
To do in these fierce vanities? I wonder
That such a keech can with his very bulk
Take up the rays o' th' beneficial sun
And keep it from the earth.

NORFOLK. Surelysir
There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends;
Forbeing not propp'd by ancestrywhose grace
Chalks successors their waynor call'd upon
For high feats done to th' crownneither allied
To eminent assistantsbut spider-like
Out of his self-drawing web'a gives us note
The force of his own merit makes his way-A
gift that heaven gives for himwhich buys
A place next to the King.

ABERGAVENNY. I cannot tell

What heaven hath given him--let some graver eye
Pierce into that; but I can see his pride
Peep through each part of him. Whence has he that?
If not from hellthe devil is a niggard
Or has given all beforeand he begins
A new hell in himself.

BUCKINGHAM. Why the devil
Upon this French going outtook he upon him-Without
the privity o' th' King--t' appoint
Who should attend on him? He makes up the file
Of all the gentry; for the most part such
To whom as great a charge as little honour
He meant to lay upon; and his own letter
The honourable board of council out
Must fetch him in he papers.

Kinsmen of minethree at the leastthat have
By this so sicken'd their estates that never
They shall abound as formerly.

Have broke their backs with laying manors on 'em
For this great journey. What did this vanity
But minister communication of
A most poor issue?

NORFOLK. Grievingly I think
The peace between the French and us not values
The cost that did conclude it.

After the hideous storm that follow'dwas
A thing inspir'dandnot consultingbroke
Into a general prophecy--that this tempest
Dashing the garment of this peaceaboded
The sudden breach on't.

NORFOLK. Which is budded out;
For France hath flaw'd the leagueand hath attach'd
Our merchants' goods at Bordeaux.

ABERGAVENNY. Is it therefore

Th' ambassador is silenc'd?
NORFOLK. Marryis't.
ABERGAVENNY. A proper tide of a peaceand purchas'd

At a superfluous rate!
BUCKINGHAM. Whyall this business
Our reverend Cardinal carried.

NORFOLK. Like it your Grace
The state takes notice of the private difference
Betwixt you and the Cardinal. I advise you-And
take it from a heart that wishes towards you
Honour and plenteous safety--that you read
The Cardinal's malice and his potency
Together; to consider furtherthat
What his high hatred would effect wants not
A minister in his power. You know his nature
That he's revengeful; and I know his sword
Hath a sharp edge--it's long and 't may be said
It reaches farand where 'twill not extend
Thither he darts it. Bosom up my counsel
You'll find it wholesome. Lowhere comes that rock
That I advise your shunning.

Enter CARDINAL WOLSEYthe purse borne before
himcertain of the guardand two SECRETARIES
with papers. The CARDINAL in his passage fixeth his

both full of disdain.

WOLSEY. The Duke of Buckingham's surveyor? Ha!

Where's his examination?
SECRETARY. Hereso please you.
WOLSEY. Is he in person ready?
SECRETARY. Ayplease your Grace.
WOLSEY. Wellwe shall then know moreand Buckingham

shall lessen this big look.
Exeunt WOLSEY and his

BUCKINGHAM. This butcher's cur is venom-mouth'dand I
Have not the power to muzzle him; therefore best
Not wake him in his slumber. A beggar's book
Outworths a noble's blood.

NORFOLK. Whatare you chaf'd?
Ask God for temp'rance; that's th' appliance only
Which your disease requires.

BUCKINGHAM. I read in 's looks
Matter against meand his eye revil'd
Me as his abject object. At this instant
He bores me with some trick. He's gone to th' King;
I'll followand outstare him.

NORFOLK. Staymy lord
And let your reason with your choler question
What 'tis you go about. To climb steep hills
Requires slow pace at first. Anger is like
A full hot horsewho being allow'd his way
Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England
Can advise me like you; be to yourself
As you would to your friend.

BUCKINGHAM. I'll to the King
And from a mouth of honour quite cry down
This Ipswich fellow's insolence; or proclaim
There's difference in no persons.

NORFOLK. Be advis'd:
Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot
That it do singe yourself. We may outrun
By violent swiftness that which we run at
And lose by over-running. Know you not
The fire that mounts the liquor till 't run o'er
In seeming to augment it wastes it? Be advis'd.
I say again there is no English soul
More stronger to direct you than yourself
If with the sap of reason you would quench
Or but allay the fire of passion.

I am thankful to youand I'll go along
By your prescription; but this top-proud fellow--
Whom from the flow of gall I name notbut
From sincere motionsby intelligence
And proofs as clear as founts in July when
We see each grain of gravel--I do know
To be corrupt and treasonous.

NORFOLK. Say not treasonous.
BUCKINGHAM. To th' King I'll say'tand make my vouch as strong

As shore of rock. Attend: this holy fox
Or wolfor both--for he is equal rav'nous
As he is subtleand as prone to mischief
As able to perform'this mind and place
Infecting one anotheryeareciprocally--
Only to show his pomp as well in France

As here at homesuggests the King our master

To this last costly treatyth' interview

That swallowed so much treasure and like a glass

Did break i' th' wrenching.
NORFOLK. Faithand so it did.
BUCKINGHAM. Praygive me favoursir; this cunning cardinal

The articles o' th' combination drew

As himself pleas'd; and they were ratified

As he cried 'Thus let be' to as much end

As give a crutch to th' dead. But our Count-Cardinal

Has done thisand 'tis well; for worthy Wolsey

Who cannot errhe did it. Now this follows

Whichas I take itis a kind of puppy

To th' old dam treason: Charles the Emperor

Under pretence to see the Queen his aunt-

For 'twas indeed his colourbut he came

To whisper Wolsey--here makes visitation-

His fears were that the interview betwixt

England and France might through their amity

Breed him some prejudice; for from this league

Peep'd harms that menac'd him--privily

Deals with our Cardinal; andas I trow-

Which I do wellfor I am sure the Emperor

Paid ere he promis'd; whereby his suit was granted

Ere it was ask'd--but when the way was made

And pav'd with goldthe Emperor thus desir'd

That he would please to alter the King's course

And break the foresaid peace. Let the King know

As soon he shall by methat thus the Cardinal

Does buy and sell his honour as he pleases

And for his own advantage.
NORFOLK. I am sorry

To hear this of himand could wish he were

Something mistaken in't.
BUCKINGHAM. Nonot a syllable:

I do pronounce him in that very shape

He shall appear in proof.

and two or three of the guard

BRANDON. Your officesergeant: execute it.


My lord the Duke of Buckinghamand Earl

Of HerefordStaffordand NorthamptonI

Arrest thee of high treasonin the name

Of our most sovereign King.
BUCKINGHAM. Lo youmy lord

The net has fall'n upon me! I shall perish

Under device and practice.
BRANDON. I am sorry

To see you ta'en from libertyto look on

The business present; 'tis his Highness' pleasure

You shall to th' Tower.
BUCKINGHAM. It will help nothing

To plead mine innocence; for that dye is on me

Which makes my whit'st part black. The will of heav'n

Be done in this and all things! I obey.

O my Lord Aberga'nyfare you well!
BRANDON. Nayhe must bear you company.


Is pleas'd you shall to th' Towertill you know

How he determines further.

ABERGAVENNY. As the Duke said
The will of heaven be doneand the King's pleasure
By me obey'd.

BRANDON. Here is warrant from
The King t' attach Lord Montacute and the bodies
Of the Duke's confessorJohn de la Car
One Gilbert Peckhis chancellor--


These are the limbs o' th' plot; no moreI hope.
BRANDON. A monk o' th' Chartreux.
BUCKINGHAM. ONicholas Hopkins?
BUCKINGHAM. My surveyor is false. The o'er-great Cardinal

Hath show'd him gold; my life is spann'd already.
I am the shadow of poor Buckingham
Whose figure even this instant cloud puts on
By dark'ning my clear sun. My lordfarewell.


London. The Council Chamber

Cornets. Enter KING HENRYleaning on the CARDINAL'S shoulder
places himself under the KING'S feet on his right side

KING. My life itselfand the best heart of it
Thanks you for this great care; I stood i' th' level
Of a full-charg'd confederacyand give thanks
To you that chok'd it. Let be call'd before us
That gentleman of Buckingham's. In person
I'll hear his confessions justify;
And point by point the treasons of his master
He shall again relate.

A noise withincrying 'Room for the Queen!'
Enter the QUEENusher'd by the DUKES OF NORFOLK
and SUFFOLK; she kneels. The KING riseth
from his statetakes her upkisses and placeth her
by him.

QUEEN KATHARINE. Naywe must longer kneel: I am suitor.

KING. Ariseand take place by us. Half your suit
Never name to us: you have half our power.
The other moiety ere you ask is given;
Repeat your willand take it.

QUEEN KATHARINE. Thank your Majesty.
That you would love yourselfand in that love
Not unconsidered leave your honour nor
The dignity of your officeis the point
Of my petition.

KING. Lady mineproceed.
QUEEN KATHARINE. I am solicitednot by a few

And those of true conditionthat your subjects
Are in great grievance: there have been commissions
Sent down among 'em which hath flaw'd the heart
Of all their loyalties; whereinalthough
My good Lord Cardinalthey vent reproaches
Most bitterly on you as putter-on
Of these exactionsyet the King our master-Whose
honour Heaven shield from soil!--even he escapes not
Language unmannerly; yeasuch which breaks
The sides of loyaltyand almost appears
In loud rebellion.

NORFOLK. Not almost appears-It
doth appear; forupon these taxations
The clothiers allnot able to maintain
The many to them 'longinghave put off
The spinsterscardersfullersweaverswho
Unfit for other lifecompell'd by hunger
And lack of other meansin desperate manner
Daring th' event to th' teethare all in uproar
And danger serves among them.

KING. Taxation!
Wherein? and what taxation? My Lord Cardinal
You that are blam'd for it alike with us
Know you of this taxation?

WOLSEY. Please yousir
I know but of a single part in aught
Pertains to th' stateand front but in that file
Where others tell steps with me.

You know no more than others! But you frame
Things that are known alikewhich are not wholesome
To those which would not know themand yet must
Perforce be their acquaintance. These exactions
Whereof my sovereign would have notethey are
Most pestilent to th' hearing; and to bear 'em
The back is sacrifice to th' load. They say
They are devis'd by youor else you suffer
Too hard an exclamation.

KING. Still exaction!
The nature of it? In what kindlet's know
Is this exaction?

QUEEN KATHARINE. I am much too venturous
In tempting of your patiencebut am bold'ned
Under your promis'd pardon. The subjects' grief
Comes through commissionswhich compels from each
The sixth part of his substanceto be levied
Without delay; and the pretence for this
Is nam'd your wars in France. This makes bold mouths;
Tongues spit their duties outand cold hearts freeze
Allegiance in them; their curses now
Live where their prayers did; and it's come to pass
This tractable obedience is a slave
To each incensed will. I would your Highness
Would give it quick considerationfor
There is no primer business.

KING. By my life
This is against our pleasure.

WOLSEY. And for me
I have no further gone in this than by
A single voice; and that not pass'd me but
By learned approbation of the judges. If I am
Traduc'd by ignorant tongueswhich neither know
My faculties nor personyet will be
The chronicles of my doinglet me say

'Tis but the fate of placeand the rough brake
That virtue must go through. We must not stint
Our necessary actions in the fear
To cope malicious censurerswhich ever
As rav'nous fishes do a vessel follow
That is new-trimm'dbut benefit no further
Than vainly longing. What we oft do best
By sick interpretersonce weak onesis
Not oursor not allow'd; what worstas oft
Hitting a grosser qualityis cried up
For our best act. If we shall stand still
In fear our motion will be mock'd or carp'd at
We should take root here where we sitor sit
State-statues only.

KING. Things done well
And with a care exempt themselves from fear:
Things done without examplein their issue
Are to be fear'd. Have you a precedent
Of this commission? I believenot any.
We must not rend our subjects from our laws
And stick them in our will. Sixth part of each?
A trembling contribution! Whywe take
From every tree lopbarkand part o' th' timber;
And though we leave it with a rootthus hack'd
The air will drink the sap. To every county
Where this is question'd send our letters with
Free pardon to each man that has denied
The force of this commission. Praylook to't;
I put it to your care.

WOLSEY. [Aside to the SECRETARY] A word with you.
Let there be letters writ to every shire
Of the King's grace and pardon. The grieved commons
Hardly conceive of me--let it be nois'd
That through our intercession this revokement
And pardon comes. I shall anon advise you
Further in the proceeding.


QUEEN KATHARINE. I am sorry that the Duke of Buckingham
Is run in your displeasure.

KING. It grieves many.
The gentleman is learn'd and a most rare speaker;
To nature none more bound; his training such
That he may furnish and instruct great teachers
And never seek for aid out of himself. Yet see
When these so noble benefits shall prove
Not well dispos'dthe mind growing once corrupt
They turn to vicious formsten times more ugly
Than ever they were fair. This man so complete
Who was enroll'd 'mongst wondersand when we
Almost with ravish'd list'ningcould not find
His hour of speech a minute--hemy lady
Hath into monstrous habits put the graces
That once were hisand is become as black
As if besmear'd in hell. Sit by us; you shall hear-This
was his gentleman in trust--of him
Things to strike honour sad. Bid him recount
The fore-recited practiceswhereof
We cannot feel too littlehear too much.

WOLSEY. Stand forthand with bold spirit relate what you
Most like a careful subjecthave collected
Out of the Duke of Buckingham.

KING. Speak freely.

SURVEYOR. Firstit was usual with him--every day
It would infect his speech--that if the King
Should without issue diehe'll carry it so
To make the sceptre his. These very words
I've heard him utter to his son-in-law
Lord Aberga'nyto whom by oath he menac'd
Revenge upon the Cardinal.

WOLSEY. Please your Highnessnote
This dangerous conception in this point:
Not friended by his wishto your high person
His will is most malignantand it stretches
Beyond you to your friends.

QUEEN KATHARINE. My learn'd Lord Cardinal
Deliver all with charity.

KING. Speak on.
How grounded he his title to the crown
Upon our fail? To this point hast thou heard him
At any time speak aught?

SURVEYOR. He was brought to this

By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Henton.
KING. What was that Henton?
SURVEYOR. Sira Chartreux friar

His confessorwho fed him every minute

With words of sovereignty.
KING. How know'st thou this?
SURVEYOR. Not long before your Highness sped to France

The Duke being at the Rosewithin the parish
Saint Lawrence Poultneydid of me demand
What was the speech among the Londoners
Concerning the French journey. I replied
Men fear'd the French would prove perfidious
To the King's danger. Presently the Duke
Said 'twas the fear indeed and that he doubted
'Twould prove the verity of certain words
Spoke by a holy monk 'that oft' says he
'Hath sent to mewishing me to permit
John de la Carmy chaplaina choice hour
To hear from him a matter of some moment;
Whom after under the confession's seal
He solemnly had sworn that what he spoke
My chaplain to no creature living but
To me should utterwith demure confidence
This pausingly ensu'd: "Neither the King nor's heirs
Tell you the Dukeshall prosper; bid him strive
To gain the love o' th' commonalty; the Duke
Shall govern England."'

QUEEN KATHARINE. If I know you well
You were the Duke's surveyorand lost your office
On the complaint o' th' tenants. Take good heed
You charge not in your spleen a noble person
And spoil your nobler soul. I saytake heed;
Yesheartily beseech you.

KING. Let him on.
Go forward.

SURVEYOR. On my soulI'll speak but truth.
I told my lord the Dukeby th' devil's illusions
The monk might be deceiv'dand that 'twas dangerous

for him
To ruminate on this so faruntil
It forg'd him some designwhichbeing believ'd
It was much like to do. He answer'd 'Tush
It can do me no damage'; adding further
Thathad the King in his last sickness fail'd

The Cardinal's and Sir Thomas Lovell's heads
Should have gone off.
KING. Ha! whatso rank? Ah ha!

There's mischief in this man. Canst thou say further?
SURVEYOR. I canmy liege.
KING. Proceed.
SURVEYOR. Being at Greenwich

After your Highness had reprov'd the Duke
About Sir William Bulmer--

KING. I remember
Of such a time: being my sworn servant
The Duke retain'd him his. But on: what hence?

SURVEYOR. 'If' quoth he 'I for this had been committed--
As to the Tower I thought--I would have play'd
The part my father meant to act upon
Th' usurper Richard; whobeing at Salisbury
Made suit to come in's presencewhich if granted
As he made semblance of his dutywould
Have put his knife into him.'

KING. A giant traitor!
WOLSEY. Nowmadammay his Highness live in freedom

And this man out of prison?
QUEEN KATHARINE. God mend all!
KING. There's something more would out of thee: what say'st?
SURVEYOR. After 'the Duke his father' with the 'knife'

He stretch'd himandwith one hand on his dagger
Another spread on's breastmounting his eyes
He did discharge a horrible oathwhose tenour
Waswere he evil us'dhe would outgo
His father by as much as a performance
Does an irresolute purpose.

KING. There's his period
To sheath his knife in us. He is attach'd;
Call him to present trial. If he may
Find mercy in the law'tis his; if none
Let him not seek't of us. By day and night!
He's traitor to th' height.



London. The palace

CHAMBERLAIN. Is't possible the spells of France should juggle
Men into such strange mysteries?

SANDYS. New customs
Though they be never so ridiculous
Naylet 'em be unmanlyyet are follow'd.

CHAMBERLAIN. As far as I seeall the good our English
Have got by the late voyage is but merely
A fit or two o' th' face; but they are shrewd ones;
For when they hold 'emyou would swear directly
Their very noses had been counsellors
To Pepin or Clothariusthey keep state so.

SANDYS. They have all new legsand lame ones. One
would take it

That never saw 'em pace beforethe spavin
Or springhalt reign'd among 'em.

CHAMBERLAIN. Death! my lord
Their clothes are after such a pagan cut to't
That sure th' have worn out Christendom.


How now?
What newsSir Thomas Lovell?

LOVELL. Faithmy lord
I hear of none but the new proclamation
That's clapp'd upon the court gate.

CHAMBERLAIN. What is't for?
LOVELL. The reformation of our travell'd gallants
That fill the court with quarrelstalkand tailors.
CHAMBERLAIN. I am glad 'tis there. Now I would pray our

To think an English courtier may be wise
And never see the Louvre.

LOVELL. They must either
For so run the conditionsleave those remnants
Of fool and feather that they got in France
With all their honourable points of ignorance
Pertaining thereunto--as fights and fireworks;
Abusing better men than they can be
Out of a foreign wisdom--renouncing clean
The faith they have in tennisand tall stockings
Short blist'red breechesand those types of travel
And understand again like honest men
Or pack to their old playfellows. ThereI take it
They maycum privilegiowear away
The lag end of their lewdness and be laugh'd at.

SANDYS. 'Tis time to give 'em physictheir diseases
Are grown so catching.
CHAMBERLAIN. What a loss our ladies
Will have of these trim vanities!

LOVELL. Aymarry
There will be woe indeedlords: the sly whoresons
Have got a speeding trick to lay down ladies.
A French song and a fiddle has no fellow.

SANDYS. The devil fiddle 'em! I am glad they are going
For sure there's no converting 'em. Now
An honest country lordas I ambeaten
A long time out of playmay bring his plainsong
And have an hour of hearing; andby'r Lady
Held current music too.

CHAMBERLAIN. Well saidLord Sandys;
Your colt's tooth is not cast yet.
SANDYS. Nomy lord
Nor shall not while I have a stamp.
Whither were you a-going?
LOVELL. To the Cardinal's;
Your lordship is a guest too.

CHAMBERLAIN. O'tis true;
This night he makes a supperand a great one
To many lords and ladies; there will be
The beauty of this kingdomI'll assure you.

LOVELL. That churchman bears a bounteous mind indeed
A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us;
His dews fall everywhere.

CHAMBERLAIN. No doubt he's noble;
He had a black mouth that said other of him.

SANDYS. He maymy lord; has wherewithal. In him
Sparing would show a worse sin than ill doctrine:
Men of his way should be most liberal
They are set here for examples.

CHAMBERLAIN. Truethey are so;
But few now give so great ones. My barge stays;
Your lordship shall along. Comegood Sir Thomas
We shall be late else; which I would not be
For I was spoke towith Sir Henry Guildford
This night to be comptrollers.

SANDYS. I am your lordship's.


London. The Presence Chamber in York Place

Hautboys. A small table under a state for the Cardinal
a longer table for the guests. Then enter ANNE BULLEN
and divers other LADIES and GENTLEMENas guestsat one door;
at another door enter SIR HENRY GUILDFORD

GUILDFORD. Ladiesa general welcome from his Grace
Salutes ye all; this night he dedicates
To fair content and you. None herehe hopes
In all this noble bevyhas brought with her
One care abroad; he would have all as merry
Asfirstgood companygood winegood welcome
Can make good people.


Omy lordy'are tardy
The very thought of this fair company
Clapp'd wings to me.

CHAMBERLAIN. You are youngSir Harry Guildford.

SANDYS. Sir Thomas Lovellhad the Cardinal
But half my lay thoughts in himsome of these
Should find a running banquet ere they rested
I think would better please 'em. By my life
They are a sweet society of fair ones.

LOVELL. O that your lordship were but now confessor
To one or two of these!
SANDYS. I would I were;

They should find easy penance.
LOVELL. Faithhow easy?
SANDYS. As easy as a down bed would afford it.
CHAMBERLAIN. Sweet ladieswill it please you sit? Sir Harry

Place you that side; I'll take the charge of this.
His Grace is ent'ring. Nayyou must not freeze:
Two women plac'd together makes cold weather.

My Lord Sandysyou are one will keep 'em waking:
Pray sit between these ladies.
SANDYS. By my faith
And thank your lordship. By your leavesweet ladies.
[Seats himself between ANNE BULLEN and another

If I chance to talk a little wildforgive me;
I had it from my father.

ANNE. Was he madsir?

SANDYS. Overy madexceeding madin love too.
But he would bite none; just as I do now
He would kiss you twenty with a breath. [Kisses


CHAMBERLAIN. Well saidmy lord.
Sonow y'are fairly seated. Gentlemen
The penance lies on you if these fair ladies
Pass away frowning.

SANDYS. For my little cure
Let me alone.

Hautboys. Enter CARDINAL WOLSEYattended; and
takes his state

WOLSEY. Y'are welcomemy fair guests. That noble lady
Or gentleman that is not freely merry
Is not my friend. Thisto confirm my welcome--
And to you allgood health!


SANDYS. Your Grace is noble.
Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks
And save me so much talking.

WOLSEY. My Lord Sandys
I am beholding to you. Cheer your neighbours.
Ladiesyou are not merry. Gentlemen
Whose fault is this?

SANDYS. The red wine first must rise
In their fair cheeksmy lord; then we shall have 'em
Talk us to silence.

ANNE. You are a merry gamester
My Lord Sandys.

SANDYS. Yesif I make my play.
Here's to your ladyship; and pledge itmadam
For 'tis to such a thing--

ANNE. You cannot show me.
SANDYS. I told your Grace they would talk anon.

[Drum and trumpet. Chambers discharg'd]
WOLSEY. What's that?
CHAMBERLAIN. Look out theresome of ye.


WOLSEY. What warlike voice
And to what endis this? Nayladiesfear not:
By all the laws of war y'are privileg'd.

Re-enter SERVANT

CHAMBERLAIN. How now! what is't?

SERVANT. A noble troop of strangers--
For so they seem. Th' have left their barge and landed
And hither makeas great ambassadors
From foreign princes.

WOLSEY. Good Lord Chamberlain
Gogive 'em welcome; you can speak the French tongue;
And pray receive 'em nobly and conduct 'em
Into our presencewhere this heaven of beauty
Shall shine at full upon them. Some attend him.

Exit CHAMBERLAIN attended. All riseand tables

You have now a broken banquetbut we'll mend it.
A good digestion to you all; and once more
I show'r a welcome on ye; welcome all.

Hautboys. Enter the KINGand othersas maskers
habited like shepherdsusher'd by the LORD CHAMBERLAIN.
They pass directly before the CARDINAL
and gracefully salute him

A noble company! What are their pleasures?

CHAMBERLAIN. Because they speak no Englishthus they pray'd
To tell your Gracethathaving heard by fame
Of this so noble and so fair assembly
This night to meet herethey could do no less
Out of the great respect they bear to beauty
But leave their flocks andunder your fair conduct
Crave leave to view these ladies and entreat
An hour of revels with 'em.

WOLSEY. SayLord Chamberlain
They have done my poor house grace; for which I pay 'em
A thousand thanksand pray 'em take their pleasures.

[They choose ladies. The KING chooses ANNE
KING. The fairest hand I ever touch'd! O beauty
Till now I never knew thee!

[Music. Dance]
WOLSEY. My lord!
WOLSEY. Pray tell 'em thus much from me:

There should be one amongst 'emby his person
More worthy this place than myself; to whom
If I but knew himwith my love and duty
I would surrender it.

CHAMBERLAIN. I willmy lord.

[He whispers to the maskers]
WOLSEY. What say they?
CHAMBERLAIN. Such a onethey all confess

There is indeed; which they would have your Grace
Find outand he will take it.
WOLSEY. Let me seethen. [Comes from his

By all your good leavesgentlemenhere I'll make
My royal choice.

KING. [Unmasking] Ye have found himCardinal.
You hold a fair assembly; you do welllord.
You are a churchmanorI'll tell youCardinal
I should judge now unhappily.

WOLSEY. I am glad
Your Grace is grown so pleasant.
KING. My Lord Chamberlain
Prithee come hither: what fair lady's that?
CHAMBERLAIN. An't please your GraceSir Thomas Bullen's
The Viscount Rochford--one of her Highness' women.
KING. By heavenshe is a dainty one. Sweet heart

I were unmannerly to take you out
And not to kiss you. A healthgentlemen!
Let it go round.

WOLSEY. Sir Thomas Lovellis the banquet ready

I' th' privy chamber?
LOVELL. Yesmy lord.
WOLSEY. Your Grace

I fearwith dancing is a little heated.
KING. I feartoo much.
WOLSEY. There's fresher airmy lord

In the next chamber.

KING. Lead in your ladiesev'ry one. Sweet partner
I must not yet forsake you. Let's be merry:
Good my Lord CardinalI have half a dozen healths
To drink to these fair ladiesand a measure
To lead 'em once again; and then let's dream
Who's best in favour. Let the music knock it.

Exeuntwith trumpets



Westminster. A street

Enter two GENTLEMENat several doors

FIRST GENTLEMAN. Whither away so fast?

Ev'n to the Hallto hear what shall become
Of the great Duke of Buckingham.

FIRST GENTLEMAN. I'll save you
That laboursir. All's now done but the ceremony
Of bringing back the prisoner.

SECOND GENTLEMAN. Were you there?
FIRST GENTLEMAN. Yesindeedwas I.
SECOND GENTLEMAN. Prayspeak what has happen'd.
FIRST GENTLEMAN. You may guess quickly what.
SECOND GENTLEMAN. Is he found guilty?
FIRST GENTLEMAN. Yestruly is heand condemn'd upon't.
SECOND GENTLEMAN. I am sorry for't.
FIRST GENTLEMAN. So are a number more.
SECOND GENTLEMAN. Butprayhow pass'd it?
FIRST GENTLEMAN. I'll tell you in a little. The great Duke.

Came to the bar; where to his accusations
He pleaded still not guiltyand alleged

Many sharp reasons to defeat the law.
The King's attorneyon the contrary
Urg'd on the examinationsproofsconfessions
Of divers witnesses; which the Duke desir'd
To have broughtviva voceto his face;
At which appear'd against him his surveyor
Sir Gilbert Peck his chancellorand John Car
Confessor to himwith that devil-monk
Hopkinsthat made this mischief.

That fed him with his prophecies?

All these accus'd him stronglywhich he fain
Would have flung from him; but indeed he could not;
And so his peersupon this evidence
Have found him guilty of high treason. Much
He spokeand learnedlyfor life; but all
Was either pitied in him or forgotten.

SECOND GENTLEMAN. After all thishow did he bear him-self

FIRST GENTLEMAN. When he was brought again to th' bar to hear
His knell rung outhis judgmenthe was stirr'd
With such an agony he sweat extremely
And something spoke in cholerill and hasty;
But he fell to himself againand sweetly
In all the rest show'd a most noble patience.

SECOND GENTLEMAN. I do not think he fears death.

FIRST GENTLEMAN. Surehe does not;
He never was so womanish; the cause
He may a little grieve at.

The Cardinal is the end of this.

By all conjectures: firstKildare's attainder
Then deputy of Irelandwho remov'd
Earl Surrey was sent thitherand in haste too
Lest he should help his father.

SECOND GENTLEMAN. That trick of state
Was a deep envious one.

FIRST GENTLEMAN. At his return
No doubt he will requite it. This is noted
And generally: whoever the King favours
The Cardinal instantly will find employment
And far enough from court too.

SECOND GENTLEMAN. All the commons
Hate him perniciouslyando' my conscience
Wish him ten fathom deep: this Duke as much
They love and dote on; call him bounteous Buckingham
The mirror of all courtesy-

Enter BUCKINGHAM from his arraignmenttip-staves
before him; the axe with the edge towards him; halberds
on each side; accompanied with SIR THOMAS
and common peopleetc.

FIRST GENTLEMAN. Stay theresir

And see the noble ruin'd man you speak of.
SECOND GENTLEMAN. Let's stand closeand behold him.
BUCKINGHAM. All good people

You that thus far have come to pity me
Hear what I sayand then go home and lose me.
I have this day receiv'd a traitor's judgment

And by that name must die; yetheaven bear witness
And if I have a consciencelet it sink me
Even as the axe fallsif I be not faithful!
The law I bear no malice for my death:
'T has doneupon the premisesbut justice.
But those that sought it I could wish more Christians.
Be what they willI heartily forgive 'em;
Yet let 'em look they glory not in mischief
Nor build their evils on the graves of great men
For then my guiltless blood must cry against 'em.
For further life in this world I ne'er hope
Nor will I suealthough the King have mercies
More than I dare make faults. You few that lov'd me
And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham
His noble friends and fellowswhom to leave
Is only bitter to himonly dying
Go with me like good angels to my end;
And as the long divorce of steel falls on me
Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice
And lift my soul to heaven. Lead ona God's name.

LOVELL. I do beseech your Gracefor charity
If ever any malice in your heart
Were hid against menow to forgive me frankly.

BUCKINGHAM. Sir Thomas LovellI as free forgive you
As I would be forgiven. I forgive all.
There cannot be those numberless offences
'Gainst me that I cannot take peace with. No black envy
Shall mark my grave. Commend me to his Grace;
And if he speak of Buckinghampray tell him
You met him half in heaven. My vows and prayers
Yet are the King'sandtill my soul forsake
Shall cry for blessings on him. May he live
Longer than I have time to tell his years;
Ever belov'd and loving may his rule be;
And when old Time shall lead him to his end
Goodness and he fill up one monument!

LOVELL. To th' water side I must conduct your Grace;
Then give my charge up to Sir Nicholas Vaux
Who undertakes you to your end.

VAUX. Prepare there;
The Duke is coming; see the barge be ready;
And fit it with such furniture as suits
The greatness of his person.

BUCKINGHAM. NaySir Nicholas
Let it alone; my state now will but mock me.
When I came hither I was Lord High Constable
And Duke of Buckingham; nowpoor Edward Bohun.
Yet I am richer than my base accusers
That never knew what truth meant; I now seal it;
And with that blood will make 'em one day groan for't.
My noble fatherHenry of Buckingham
Who first rais'd head against usurping Richard
Flying for succour to his servant Banister
Being distress'dwas by that wretch betray'd
And without trial fell; God's peace be with him!
Henry the Seventh succeedingtruly pitying
My father's losslike a most royal prince
Restor'd me to my honoursand out of ruins
Made my name once more noble. Now his son
Henry the Eighthlifehonournameand all
That made me happyat one stroke has taken
For ever from the world. I had my trial
And must needs say a noble one; which makes me
A little happier than my wretched father;

Yet thus far we are one in fortunes: both
Fell by our servantsby those men we lov'd most--
A most unnatural and faithless service.
Heaven has an end in all. Yetyou that hear me
This from a dying man receive as certain:
Where you are liberal of your loves and counsels
Be sure you be not loose; for those you make friends
And give your hearts towhen they once perceive
The least rub in your fortunesfall away
Like water from yenever found again
But where they mean to sink ye. All good people
Pray for me! I must now forsake ye; the last hour
Of my long weary life is come upon me.
And when you would say something that is sad
Speak how I fell. I have done; and God forgive me!

Exeunt BUCKINGHAM and train

FIRST GENTLEMAN. Othis is full of pity! Sirit calls
I feartoo many curses on their heads
That were the authors.

SECOND GENTLEMAN. If the Duke be guiltless
'Tis full of woe; yet I can give you inkling
Of an ensuing evilif it fall
Greater than this.

FIRST GENTLEMAN. Good angels keep it from us!
What may it be? You do not doubt my faithsir?
SECOND GENTLEMAN. This secret is so weighty'twill require
A strong faith to conceal it.
FIRST GENTLEMAN. Let me have it;
I do not talk much.

SECOND GENTLEMAN. I am confident.
You shallsir. Did you not of late days hear
A buzzing of a separation
Between the King and Katharine?

FIRST GENTLEMAN. Yesbut it held not;
For when the King once heard itout of anger
He sent command to the Lord Mayor straight
To stop the rumour and allay those tongues
That durst disperse it.

SECOND GENTLEMAN. But that slandersir
Is found a truth now; for it grows again
Fresher than e'er it wasand held for certain
The King will venture at it. Either the Cardinal
Or some about him near haveout of malice
To the good Queenpossess'd him with a scruple
That will undo her. To confirm this too
Cardinal Campeius is arriv'd and lately;
As all thinkfor this business.

FIRST GENTLEMAN. 'Tis the Cardinal;
And merely to revenge him on the Emperor
For not bestowing on him at his asking
The archbishopric of Toledothis is purpos'd.

SECOND GENTLEMAN. I think you have hit the mark; but is't

not cruel
That she should feel the smart of this? The Cardinal
Will have his willand she must fall.

We are too open here to argue this;
Let's think in private more.



London. The palace

Enter the LORD CHAMBERLAIN reading this letter

'The horses your lordship sent forwith all the care
hadI saw well chosenriddenand furnish'd. They were
young and handsomeand of the best breed in the north.
When they were ready to set out for Londona man of
my Lord Cardinal'sby commissionand main powertook
'em from mewith this reason: his master would be serv'd
before a subjectif not before the King; which stopp'd
our mouthssir.'

I fear he will indeed. Welllet him have them.
He will have allI think.


NORFOLK. Well metmy Lord Chamberlain.
CHAMBERLAIN. Good day to both your Graces.
SUFFOLK. How is the King employ'd?
CHAMBERLAIN. I left him private

Full of sad thoughts and troubles.
NORFOLK. What's the cause?
CHAMBERLAIN. It seems the marriage with his brother's wife

Has crept too near his conscience.
SUFFOLK. Nohis conscience
Has crept too near another lady.

NORFOLK. 'Tis so;
This is the Cardinal's doing; the King-Cardinal
That blind priestlike the eldest son of fortune
Turns what he list. The King will know him one day.

SUFFOLK. Pray God he do! He'll never know himself else.

NORFOLK. How holily he works in all his business!
And with what zeal! Fornow he has crack'd the league
Between us and the Emperorthe Queen's great nephew
He dives into the King's soul and there scatters
Dangersdoubtswringing of the conscience
Fearsand despairs--and all these for his marriage;
And out of all these to restore the King
He counsels a divorcea loss of her
That like a jewel has hung twenty years
About his neckyet never lost her lustre;
Of her that loves him with that excellence
That angels love good men with; even of her
Thatwhen the greatest stroke of fortune falls
Will bless the King--and is not this course pious?

CHAMBERLAIN. Heaven keep me from such counsel! 'Tis most true
These news are everywhere; every tongue speaks 'em
And every true heart weeps for 't. All that dare
Look into these affairs see this main end-The
French King's sister. Heaven will one day open

The King's eyesthat so long have slept upon

This bold bad man.
SUFFOLK. And free us from his slavery.
NORFOLK. We had need prayand heartilyfor our deliverance;

Or this imperious man will work us all
From princes into pages. All men's honours
Lie like one lump before himto be fashion'd
Into what pitch he please.

SUFFOLK. For memy lords
I love him notnor fear him--there's my creed;
As I am made without himso I'll stand
If the King please; his curses and his blessings
Touch me alike; th' are breath I not believe in.
I knew himand I know him; so I leave him
To him that made him proud--the Pope.

NORFOLK. Let's in;
And with some other business put the King
From these sad thoughts that work too much upon him.
My lordyou'll bear us company?

The King has sent me otherwhere; besides
You'll find a most unfit time to disturb him.
Health to your lordships!

NORFOLK. Thanksmy good Lord Chamberlain.

draws the curtain and sits reading pensively
SUFFOLK. How sad he looks; surehe is much afflicted.
KING. Who's thereha?
NORFOLK. Pray God he be not angry.
KING HENRY. Who's thereI say? How dare you thrust yourselves

Into my private meditations?
Who am Iha?

NORFOLK. A gracious king that pardons all offences
Malice ne'er meant. Our breach of duty this way
Is business of estatein which we come
To know your royal pleasure.

KING. Ye are too bold.
Go to; I'll make ye know your times of business.
Is this an hour for temporal affairsha?

Enter WOLSEY and CAMPEIUS with a commission

Who's there? My good Lord Cardinal? O my Wolsey
The quiet of my wounded conscience
Thou art a cure fit for a King. [To CAMPEIUS] You're

Most learned reverend sirinto our kingdom.
Use us and it. [To WOLSEY] My good lordhave great care
I be not found a talker.

WOLSEY. Siryou cannot.
I would your Grace would give us but an hour
Of private conference.

KING. [To NORFOLK and SUFFOLK] We are busy; go.
NORFOLK. [Aside to SUFFOLK] This priest has no pride in him!
SUFFOLK. [Aside to NORFOLK] Not to speak of!

I would not be so sick though for his place.
But this cannot continue.
NORFOLK. [Aside to SUFFOLK] If it do
I'll venture one have-at-him.
SUFFOLK. [Aside to NORFOLK] I another.
WOLSEY. Your Grace has given a precedent of wisdom

Above all princesin committing freely
Your scruple to the voice of Christendom.
Who can be angry now? What envy reach you?
The Spaniardtied by blood and favour to her
Must now confessif they have any goodness
The trial just and noble. All the clerks
I mean the learned onesin Christian kingdoms
Have their free voices. Rome the nurse of judgment
Invited by your noble selfhath sent
One general tongue unto usthis good man
This just and learned priestCardinal Campeius
Whom once more I present unto your Highness.

KING. And once more in mine arms I bid him welcome
And thank the holy conclave for their loves.
They have sent me such a man I would have wish'd for.

CAMPEIUS. Your Grace must needs deserve all strangers' loves
You are so noble. To your Highness' hand
I tender my commission; by whose virtue-The
court of Rome commanding--youmy Lord
Cardinal of Yorkare join'd with me their servant
In the unpartial judging of this business.

KING. Two equal men. The Queen shall be acquainted
Forthwith for what you come. Where's Gardiner?

WOLSEY. I know your Majesty has always lov'd her
So dear in heart not to deny her that
A woman of less place might ask by law--
Scholars allow'd freely to argue for her.

KING. Ayand the best she shall have; and my favour
To him that does best. God forbid else. Cardinal
Prithee call Gardiner to memy new secretary;
I find him a fit fellow. Exit WOLSEY


WOLSEY. [Aside to GARDINER] Give me your hand: much
joy and favour to you;
You are the King's now.
GARDINER. [Aside to WOLSEY] But to be commanded

For ever by your Gracewhose hand has rais'd me.
KING. Come hitherGardiner. [Walks and whispers]
CAMPEIUS. My Lord of Yorkwas not one Doctor Pace

In this man's place before him?
WOLSEY. Yeshe was.
CAMPEIUS. Was he not held a learned man?
WOLSEY. Yessurely.
CAMPEIUS. Believe methere's an ill opinion spread then

Even of yourselfLord Cardinal.
WOLSEY. How! Of me?
CAMPEIUS. They will not stick to say you envied him

Andfearing he would risehe was so virtuous
Kept him a foreign man still; which so griev'd him
That he ran mad and died.

WOLSEY. Heav'n'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 himfollows my appointment.
I will have none so near else. Learn thisbrother
We live not to be grip'd by meaner persons.

KING. Deliver this with modesty to th' Queen.

The most convenient place that I can think of
For such receipt of learning is Blackfriars;
There ye shall meet about this weighty business--
My Wolseysee it furnish'd. Omy lord
Would it not grieve an able man to leave
So sweet a bedfellow? Butconscienceconscience!
O'tis a tender place! and I must leave her.



London. The palace


ANNE. Not for that neither. Here's the pang that pinches:
His Highness having liv'd so long with herand she
So good a lady that no tongue could ever
Pronounce dishonour of her--by my life
She never knew harm-doing--Onowafter
So many courses of the sun enthroned
Still growing in a majesty and pompthe which
To leave a thousand-fold more bitter than
'Tis sweet at first t' acquire--after this process
To give her the avauntit is a pity
Would move a monster.

OLD LADY. Hearts of most hard temper
Melt and lament for her.

ANNE. OGod's will! much better
She ne'er had known pomp; though't be temporal
Yetif that quarrelfortunedo divorce
It from the bearer'tis a sufferance panging
As soul and body's severing.

OLD LADY. Alaspoor 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 glist'ring grief
And wear a golden sorrow.

OLD LADY. Our content
Is our best having.
ANNE. By my troth and maidenhead
I would not be a queen.

OLD LADY. Beshrew meI 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 heartwhich ever yet
Affected eminencewealthsovereignty;
Whichto say soothare blessings; and which gifts
Saving your mincingthe capacity
Of your soft cheveril conscience would receive
If you might please to stretch it.

ANNE. Naygood troth.

OLD LADY. Yestroth and troth. You would not be a queen!
ANNE. Nonot for all the riches under heaven.
OLD LADY. 'Tis strange: a threepence bow'd would hire me

Old as I amto queen it. ButI pray you
What think you of a duchess? Have you limbs
To bear that load of title?

ANNE. Noin truth.

OLD LADY. 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 LADY. In faithfor little England
You'd venture an emballing. I myself
Would for Carnarvonshirealthough there long'd
No more to th' crown but that. Lowho comes here?


CHAMBERLAIN. Good morrowladies. What were'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.

CHAMBERLAIN. It was a gentle business and becoming
The action of good women; there is hope
All will be well.

ANNE. NowI pray Godamen!

CHAMBERLAIN. You bear a gentle mindand heav'nly blessings
Follow such creatures. That you mayfair lady
Perceive I speak sincerely and high notes
Ta'en of your many virtuesthe King's Majesty
Commends his good opinion of you to youand
Does purpose honour to you no less flowing
Than Marchioness of Pembroke; to which tide
A thousand pound a yearannual 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 nothingnor my prayers
Are not words duly hallowednor 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 handmaidto his Highness;
Whose health and royalty I pray for.

I shall not fail t' approve the fair conceit
The King hath of you. [Aside] I have perus'd her well:
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
And say I spoke with you.

ANNE. My honour'd lord!

OLD LADY. Whythis it is: seesee!
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 youO fate!
A very fresh-fish here--fiefiefie upon
This compell'd fortune!--have your mouth fill'd up
Before you open it.

ANNE. This is strange to me.

OLD LADY. How tastes it? Is it bitter? Forty penceno.
There was a lady once--'tis an old story--
That would not be a queenthat would she not
For all the mud in Egypt. Have you heard it?

ANNE. Comeyou are pleasant.

OLD LADY. 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 moe thousands: honour's train
Is longer than his foreskirt. 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 comfortlessand we forgetful
In our long absence. Praydo not deliver
What here y' have heard to her.

OLD LADY. What do you think me?


London. A hall in Blackfriars

Trumpetssennetand cornets. Enter two VERGERSwith short
silver wands; next themtwo SCRIBESin the habit of doctors;
after them
small distancefollows a GENTLEMAN bearing the pursewith the
great seal
and a Cardinal's hat; then two PRIESTSbearing each silver
then a GENTLEMAN USHER bareheadedaccompanied with a
SERGEANT-AT-ARMS bearing a silver mace; then two GENTLEMEN
two great silver pillars; after themside by sidethe two
and CAMPEIUS; two NOBLEMEN with the sword and mace. Then enter
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
some distance from the KING. The BISHOPS place themselves on each
of the courtin manner of consistory; below them the SCRIBES.
The LORDS sit next the BISHOPS. The rest of the attendants stand

in convenient order about the stage

WOLSEY. Whilst our commission from Rome is read

Let silence be commanded.

KING. What's the need?

It hath already publicly been read

And on all sides th' authority allow'd;

You may then spare that time.

WOLSEY. Be't so; proceed.

SCRIBE. Say 'Henry King of Englandcome into the court.'

CRIER. Henry King of England&c.

KING. Here.

SCRIBE. Say 'Katharine Queen of Englandcome into the court.'

CRIER. Katharine Queen of England&c.

The QUEEN makes no answerrises out of her chair

goes about the courtcomes to the KINGand kneels

at his feet; then speaks

QUEEN KATHARINE. SirI desire you do me right and justice
And to bestow your pity on me; for
I am a most poor woman and a stranger
Born out of your dominionshaving here
No judge indifferentnor no more assurance
Of equal friendship and proceeding. Alassir
In what have I offended you? What cause
Hath my behaviour given to your displeasure
That thus you should proceed to put me off
And take your good grace from me? Heaven witness
I have been to you a true and humble wife
At all times to your will conformable
Ever in fear to kindle your dislike
Yeasubject to your countenance--glad or sorry
As I saw it inclin'd. When was the hour
I ever contradicted your desire
Or made it not mine too? Or which of your friends
Have I not strove to lovealthough I knew
He were mine enemy? What friend of mine
That had to him deriv'd your anger did
Continue in my liking? Naygave notice
He was from thence discharg'd? Sircall to mind
That I have been your wife in this obedience
Upward of twenty yearsand have been blest
With many children by you. Ifin the course
And process of this timeyou can report
And prove it too against mine honouraught
My bond to wedlock or my love and duty
Against your sacred personin God's name
Turn me away and let the foul'st contempt
Shut door upon meand so give me up
To the sharp'st kind of justice. Please yousir
The Kingyour fatherwas reputed for
A prince most prudentof an excellent
And unmatch'd wit and judgment; Ferdinand
My fatherKing of Spainwas reckon'd one
The wisest prince that there had reign'd by many
A year before. It is not to be question'd
That they had gather'd a wise council to them
Of every realmthat did debate this business
Who deem'd our marriage lawful. Wherefore I humbly
Beseech yousirto spare me till I may

Be by my friends in Spain advis'dwhose counsel
I will implore. If noti' th' name of God
Your pleasure be fulfill'd!

WOLSEY. You have herelady
And of your choicethese reverend fathers-men
Of singular integrity and learning
Yeathe elect o' th' landwho are assembled
To plead your cause. It shall be therefore bootless
That longer you desire the courtas well
For your own quiet as to rectify
What is unsettled in the King.

Hath spoken well and justly; thereforemadam
It's fit this royal session do proceed
And thatwithout delaytheir arguments
Be now produc'd and heard.


To you I speak.
WOLSEY. Your pleasuremadam?

I am about to weep; butthinking that
We are a queenor long have dream'd socertain
The daughter of a kingmy drops of tears
I'll turn to sparks of fire.

WOLSEY. Be patient yet.

QUEEN KATHARINE. I willwhen you are humble; naybefore
Or God will punish me. I do believe
Induc'd by potent circumstancesthat
You are mine enemyand make my challenge
You shall not be my judge; for it is you
Have blown this coal betwixt my lord and me-Which
God's dew quench! Therefore I say again
I utterly abhoryeafrom my soul
Refuse you for my judgewhom yet once more
I hold my most malicious foe and think not
At all a friend to truth.

WOLSEY. I do profess
You speak not like yourselfwho ever yet
Have stood to charity and display'd th' effects
Of disposition gentle and of wisdom
O'ertopping woman's pow'r. Madamyou do me wrong:
I have no spleen against younor injustice
For you or any; how far I have proceeded
Or how far further shallis warranted
By a commission from the Consistory
Yeathe whole Consistory of Rome. You charge me
That I have blown this coal: I do deny it.
The King is present; if it be known to him
That I gainsay my deedhow may he wound
And worthilymy falsehood! Yeaas much
As you have done my truth. If he know
That I am free of your reporthe knows
I am not of your wrong. Therefore in him
It lies to cure meand the cure is to
Remove these thoughts from you; the which before
His Highness shall speak inI do beseech
Yougracious madamto unthink your speaking
And to say so no more.

QUEEN KATHARINE. My lordmy lord
I am a simple womanmuch too weak
T' oppose your cunning. Y'are meek and humble-mouth'd;
You sign your place and callingin full seeming
With meekness and humility; but your heart
Is cramm'd with arrogancyspleenand pride.

You haveby fortune and his Highness' favours
Gone slightly o'er low stepsand now are mounted
Where pow'rs are your retainersand your words
Domestics to youserve your will as't please
Yourself pronounce their office. I must tell you
You tender more your person's honour than
Your high profession spiritual; that again
I do refuse you for my judge and here
Before you allappeal unto the Pope
To bring my whole cause 'fore his Holiness
And to be judg'd by him.

[She curtsies to the KINGand offers to

CAMPEIUS. The Queen is obstinate
Stubborn to justiceapt to accuse itand
Disdainful to be tried by't; 'tis not well.
She's going away.

KING. Call her again.
CRIER. Katharine Queen of Englandcome into the court.
GENTLEMAN USHER. Madamyou are call'd back.
QUEEN KATHARINE. What need you note it? Pray you keep your way;

When you are call'dreturn. Now the Lord help!
They vex me past my patience. Pray you pass on.
I will not tarry; nonor ever more
Upon this business my appearance make
In any of their courts. Exeunt QUEEN and her


KING. Go thy waysKate.
That man i' th' world who shall report he has
A better wifelet him in nought be trusted
For speaking false in that. Thou artalone--
If thy rare qualitiessweet gentleness
Thy meekness saint-likewife-like government
Obeying in commandingand thy parts
Sovereign and pious elsecould speak thee out--
The queen of earthly queens. She's noble born;
And like her true nobility she has
Carried herself towards me.

WOLSEY. Most gracious sir
In humblest manner I require your Highness
That it shall please you to declare in hearing
Of all these ears--for where I am robb'd and bound
There must I be unloos'dalthough not there
At once and fully satisfied--whether ever I
Did broach this business to your Highnessor
Laid any scruple in your way which might
Induce you to the question on'tor ever
Have to youbut with thanks to God for such
A royal ladyspake one the least word that might
Be to the prejudice of her present state
Or touch of her good person?

KING. My Lord Cardinal
I do excuse you; yeaupon mine honour
I free you from't. You are not to be taught
That you have many enemies that know not
Why they are sobutlike to village curs
Bark when their fellows do. By some of these
The Queen is put in anger. Y'are excus'd.
But will you be more justified? You ever
Have wish'd the sleeping of this business; never desir'd
It to be stirr'd; but oft have hind'redoft
The passages made toward it. On my honour
I speak my good Lord Cardinal to this point
And thus far clear him. Nowwhat mov'd me to't

I will be bold with time and your attention.

Then mark th' inducement. Thus it came--give heed to't:

My conscience first receiv'd a tenderness

Scrupleand prickon certain speeches utter'd

By th' Bishop of Bayonnethen French ambassador

Who had been hither sent on the debating

A marriage 'twixt the Duke of Orleans and

Our daughter Mary. I' th' progress of this business

Ere a determinate resolutionhe-

I mean the Bishop-did require a respite

Wherein he might the King his lord advertise

Whether our daughter were legitimate

Respecting this our marriage with the dowager

Sometimes our brother's wife. This respite shook

The bosom of my conscienceenter'd me

Yeawith a splitting powerand made to tremble

The region of my breastwhich forc'd such way

That many maz'd considerings did throng

And press'd in with this caution. Firstmethought

I stood not in the smile of heavenwho had

Commanded nature that my lady's womb

If it conceiv'd a male child by meshould

Do no more offices of life to't than

The grave does to the dead; for her male issue

Or died where they were madeor shortly after

This world had air'd them. Hence I took a thought

This was a judgment on methat my kingdom

Well worthy the best heir o' th' worldshould not

Be gladded in't by me. Then follows that

I weigh'd the danger which my realms stood in

By this my issue's failand that gave to me

Many a groaning throe. Thus hulling in

The wild sea of my conscienceI did steer

Toward this remedywhereupon we are

Now present here together; that's to say

I meant to rectify my consciencewhich

I then did feel full sickand yet not well

By all the reverend fathers of the land

And doctors learn'd. FirstI began in private

With youmy Lord of Lincoln; you remember

How under my oppression I did reek

When I first mov'd you.
LINCOLN. Very wellmy liege.
KING. I have spoke long; be pleas'd yourself to say

How far you satisfied me.
LINCOLN. 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.
KING. I then mov'd you

My Lord of Canterburyand 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; thereforego on

For no dislike i' th' world against the person

Of the good Queenbut the sharp thorny points

Of my alleged reasonsdrives this forward.

Prove but our marriage lawfulby my life

And kingly dignitywe are contented

To wear our moral state to come with her

Katharine our queenbefore the primest creature
That's paragon'd o' th' world.

CAMPEIUS. So please your Highness
The Queen being absent'tis a needful fitness
That we adjourn this court till further day;
Meanwhile must be an earnest motion
Made to the Queen to call back her appeal
She intends unto his Holiness.

KING. [Aside] I may perceive
These cardinals trifle with me. I abhor
This dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome.
My learn'd and well-beloved servantCranmer
Prithee return. With thy approach I know
My comfort comes along.--Break up the court;
I sayset on. Exuent in manner as they




London. The QUEEN'S apartments

Enter the QUEEN and her womenas at work

QUEEN KATHARINE. Take thy lutewench. My soul grows
sad with troubles;
Sing and disperse 'emif thou canst. Leave working.


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 sprungas sun and showers

There had made 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.


GENTLEMAN. An't please your Gracethe two great Cardinals

Wait in the presence.
QUEEN KATHARINE. Would they speak with me?
GENTLEMAN. They will'd me say somadam.
QUEEN KATHARINE. Pray their Graces

To come near. [Exit GENTLEMAN] What can be their business
With mea poor weak womanfall'n from favour?
I do not like their coming. Now I think on't
They should be good mentheir affairs as righteous;
But all hoods make not monks.


WOLSEY. Peace to your Highness!

QUEEN KATHARINE. Your Graces find me here part of housewife;
I would be allagainst the worst may happen.
What are your pleasures with mereverend lords?

WOLSEY. May it please younoble madamto withdraw
Into your private chamberwe shall give you
The full cause of our coming.

QUEEN KATHARINE. Speak it here;
There's nothing I have done yeto' my conscience
Deserves a corner. Would all other women
Could speak this with as free a soul as I do!
My lordsI care not--so much I am happy
Above a number--if my actions
Were tried by ev'ry tongueev'ry eye saw 'em
Envy and base opinion set against 'em
I know my life so even. If your business
Seek me outand that way I am wife in
Out with it boldly; truth loves open dealing.

WOLSEY. Tanta est erga te mentis integritasregina

QUEEN KATHARINE. Ogood my lordno 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 strangesuspicious;
Pray speak in English. Here are some will thank you
If you speak truthfor their poor mistress' sake:
Believe meshe has had much wrong. Lord Cardinal
The willing'st sin I ever yet committed
May be absolv'd in English.

WOLSEY. Noble lady
I am sorry my integrity should breed
And service to his Majesty and you
So deep suspicionwhere 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 muchgood lady; but to know
How you stand minded in the weighty difference
Between the King and youand to deliver
Like free and honest menour just opinions
And comforts to your cause.

CAMPEIUS. Most honour'd madam
My Lord of Yorkout of his noble nature

Zeal and obedience he still bore your Grace
Forgettinglike a good manyour late censure
Both of his truth and him--which was too far--
Offersas I doin a sign of peace
His service and his counsel.

QUEEN KATHARINE. [Aside] To betray me.-My
lordsI thank you both for your good wins;
Ye speak like honest men--pray God ye prove so!
But how to make ye suddenly an answer
In such a point of weightso near mine honour
More near my lifeI fearwith my weak wit
And to such men of gravity and learning
In truth I know not. I was set at work
Among my maidsfull littleGod knowslooking
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.
AlasI am a womanfriendlesshopeless!

WOLSEY. Madamyou wrong the King's love with these fears;
Your hopes and friends are infinite.

But little for my profit; can you thinklords
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? Nayforsoothmy friends
They that must weigh out my afflictions
They that my trust must grow tolive not here;
They areas all my other comfortsfar hence
In mine own countrylords.

CAMPEIUS. I would your Grace

Would leave your griefsand take my counsel.
CAMPEIUS. 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 ye
You'll part away disgrac'd.

WOLSEY. He tells you rightly.

QUEEN KATHARINE. 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.

CAMPEIUS. Your rage mistakes us.

QUEEN KATHARINE. The more shame for ye; holy men I thought ye
Upon my soultwo reverend cardinal virtues;
But cardinal sins and hollow hearts I fear ye.
Mend 'emfor shamemy lords. Is this your comfort?
The cordial that ye bring a wretched lady-A
woman lost among yelaugh'd atscorn'd?
I will not wish ye half my miseries:
I have more charity; but say I warned ye.
Take heedfor heaven's sake take heedlest at once
The burden of my sorrows fall upon ye.

WOLSEY. Madamthis is a mere distraction;
You turn the good we offer into envy.

QUEEN KATHARINE. Ye turn me into nothing. Woe upon ye
And all such false professors! Would you have me-If
you have any justiceany pity
If ye be any thing but churchmen's habits-Put
my sick cause into his hands that hates me?
Alas! has banish'd me his bed already
His love too long ago! I am oldmy 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.

CAMPEIUS. Your fears are worse.

QUEEN KATHARINE. Have I liv'd thus long--let me speak myself
Since virtue finds no friends--a wifea true one?
A womanI dare say without vain-glory
Never yet branded with suspicion?
Have I with all my full affections
Still met the Kinglov'd him next heav'nobey'd him
Beenout of fondnesssuperstitious to him
Almost forgot my prayers to content him
And am I thus rewarded? 'Tis not welllords.
Bring me a constant woman to her husband
One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure
And to that womanwhen she has done most
Yet will I add an honour--a great patience.

WOLSEY. Madamyou wander from the good we aim at.

QUEEN KATHARINE. My lordI dare not make myself so guilty
To give up willingly that noble title
Your master wed me to: nothing but death
Shall e'er divorce my dignities.

WOLSEY. Pray hear me.

QUEEN KATHARINE. Would I had never trod this English earth
Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it!
Ye have angels' facesbut heaven knows your hearts.
What will become of me nowwretched lady?
I am the most unhappy woman living.
[To her WOMEN] Alaspoor wencheswhere are now

your fortunes?
Shipwreck'd upon a kingdomwhere no pity
No friendsno hope; no kindred weep for me;
Almost no grave allow'd me. Like the lily
That once was mistress of the fieldand flourish'd
I'll hang my head and perish.

WOLSEY. If your Grace
Could but be brought to know our ends are honest
You'd feel more comfort. Why should wegood lady
Upon what causewrong you? Alasour places
The way of our profession is against it;
We are to cure such sorrowsnot to sow 'em.
For goodness' sakeconsider what you do;
How you may hurt yourselfayutterly
Grow from the King's acquaintanceby this carriage.
The hearts of princes kiss obedience
So much they love it; but to stubborn spirits
They swell and grow as terrible as storms.
I know you have a gentlenoble temper
A soul as even as a calm. Pray think us
Those we professpeace-makersfriendsand servants.

CAMPEIUS. Madamyou'll find it so. You wrong your virtues
With these weak women's fears. A noble spirit
As yours was put into youever casts
Such doubts as false coin from it. The King loves you;
Beware you lose it not. For usif you please
To trust us in your businesswe are ready
To use our utmost studies in your service.

QUEEN KATHARINE. Do what ye will my lords; and pray

forgive me
If I have us'd myself unmannerly;
You know I am a womanlacking wit
To make a seemly answer to such persons.
Pray do my service to his Majesty;

He has my heart yetand shall have my prayers
While I shall have my life. Comereverend fathers
Bestow your counsels on me; she now begs
That little thoughtwhen she set footing here
She should have bought her dignities so dear.



London. The palace


NORFOLK. If you will now unite in your complaints
And force them with a constancythe Cardinal
Cannot stand under them: if you omit
The offer of this timeI cannot promise
But that you shall sustain moe new disgraces
With these you bear already.

SURREY. I am joyful
To meet the least occasion that may give me
Remembrance of my father-in-lawthe Duke
To be reveng'd on him.

SUFFOLK. Which of the peers
Have uncontemn'd gone by himor at least
Strangely neglected? When did he regard
The stamp of nobleness in any person
Out of himself?

CHAMBERLAIN. My lordsyou speak your pleasures.
What he deserves of you and me I know;
What we can do to him--though now the time
Gives way to us--I much fear. If you cannot
Bar his access to th' Kingnever attempt
Anything on him; for he hath a witchcraft
Over the King in's tongue.

NORFOLK. Ofear him not!
His spell in that is out; the King hath found
Matter against him that for ever mars
The honey of his language. Nohe's settled
Not to come offin his displeasure.

I should be glad to hear such news as this
Once every hour.

NORFOLK. Believe itthis is true:
In the divorce his contrary proceedings
Are all unfolded; wherein he appears
As I would wish mine enemy.

SURREY. How came

His practices to light?
SUFFOLK. Most strangely.
SURREY. Ohowhow?
SUFFOLK. The Cardinal's letters to the Pope miscarried

And came to th' eye o' th' King; wherein was read
How that the Cardinal did entreat his Holiness
To stay the judgment o' th' divorce; for if
It did take place'I do' quoth he 'perceive
My king is tangled in affection to

A creature of the Queen'sLady Anne Bullen.'
SURREY. Has the King this?
SUFFOLK. Believe it.
SURREY. Will this work?
CHAMBERLAIN. The King in this perceives him how he coasts

And hedges his own way. But in this point
All his tricks founderand he brings his physic
After his patient's death: the King already
Hath married the fair lady.

SURREY. Would he had!
SUFFOLK. May you be happy in your wishmy lord!
ForI professyou have it.
SURREY. Nowall my joy

Trace the conjunction!
SUFFOLK. My amen to't!
NORFOLK. All men's!
SUFFOLK. There's order given for her coronation;

Marrythis is yet but youngand may be left
To some ears unrecounted. Butmy lords
She is a gallant creatureand complete
In mind and feature. I persuade me from her
Will fall some blessing to this landwhich shall
In it be memoriz'd.

SURREY. But will the King
Digest this letter of the Cardinal's?
The Lord forbid!

NORFOLK. Marryamen!

There be moe wasps that buzz about his nose
Will make this sting the sooner. Cardinal Campeius
Is stol'n away to Rome; hath ta'en no leave;
Has left the cause o' th' King unhandledand
Is postedas the agent of our Cardinal
To second all his plot. I do assure you
The King cried 'Ha!' at this.

CHAMBERLAIN. NowGod incense him
And let him cry 'Ha!' louder!
NORFOLK. Butmy lord
When returns Cranmer?

SUFFOLK. He is return'd in his opinions; which
Have satisfied the King for his divorce
Together with all famous colleges
Almost in Christendom. ShortlyI believe
His second marriage shall be publish'dand
Her coronation. Katharine no more
Shall be call'd queenbut princess dowager
And widow to Prince Arthur.

NORFOLK. This same Cranmer's
A worthy fellowand hath ta'en much pain
In the King's business.

SUFFOLK. He has; and we shall see him

For it an archbishop.
NORFOLK. So I hear.
SUFFOLK. 'Tis so.


The Cardinal!
NORFOLK. Observeobservehe's moody.
WOLSEY. The packetCromwell

Gave't you the King?
CROMWELL. To his own handin's bedchamber.

WOLSEY. Look'd he o' th' inside of the paper?

CROMWELL. Presently
He did unseal them; and the first he view'd
He did it with a serious mind; a heed
Was in his countenance. You he bade
Attend him here this morning.

WOLSEY. Is he ready

To come abroad?
CROMWELL. I think by this he is.
WOLSEY. Leave me awhile. Exit

[Aside] It shall be to the Duchess of Alencon
The French King's sister; he shall marry her.
Anne Bullen! NoI'll no Anne Bullens for him;
There's more in't than fair visage. Bullen!
Nowe'll no Bullens. Speedily I wish
To hear from Rome. The Marchioness of Pembroke!

NORFOLK. He's discontented.
SUFFOLK. May be he hears the King
Does whet his anger to him.
SURREY. Sharp enough
Lordfor thy justice!
WOLSEY. [Aside] The late Queen's gentlewomana knight's

To be her mistress' mistress! The Queen's queen!
This candle burns not clear. 'Tis I must snuff it;
Then out it goes. What though I know her virtuous
And well deserving? Yet I know her for
A spleeny Lutheran; and not wholesome to
Our cause that she should lie i' th' bosom of
Our hard-rul'd King. Againthere is sprung up
An heretican arch oneCranmer; one
Hath crawl'd into the favour of the King
And is his oracle.

NORFOLK. He is vex'd at something.

Enter the KINGreading of a scheduleand LOVELL

SURREY. I would 'twere something that would fret the string

The master-cord on's heart!
SUFFOLK. The Kingthe King!
KING. What piles of wealth hath he accumulated

To his own portion! And what expense by th' hour
Seems to flow from him! Howi' th' name of thrift
Does he rake this together?--Nowmy lords
Saw you the Cardinal?

NORFOLK. My lordwe have
Stood here observing him. Some strange commotion
Is in his brain: he bites his lip and starts
Stops on a suddenlooks upon the ground
Then lays his finger on his temple; straight
Springs out into fast gait; then stops again
Strikes his breast hard; and anon he casts
His eye against the moon. In most strange postures
We have seen him set himself.

KING. It may well be
There is a mutiny in's mind. This morning
Papers of state he sent me to peruse
As I requir'd; and wot you what I found
There--on my conscienceput unwittingly?
Forsoothan inventorythus importing
The several parcels of his platehis treasure

Rich stuffsand ornaments of household; which
I find at such proud rate that it outspeaks
Possession of a subject.

NORFOLK. It's heaven's will;
Some spirit put this paper in the packet
To bless your eye withal.

KING. If we did think
His contemplation were above the earth
And fix'd on spiritual objecthe should still
Dwell in his musings; but I am afraid
His thinkings are below the moonnot worth
His serious considering.

[The KING takes his seat and whispers
LOVELLwho goes to the CARDINAL]
WOLSEY. Heaven forgive me!
Ever God bless your Highness!

KING. Goodmy lord
You are full of heavenly stuffand bear the inventory
Of your best graces in your mind; the which
You were now running o'er. You have scarce time
To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span
To keep your earthly audit; surein that
I deem you an ill husbandand am glad
To have you therein my companion.

For holy offices I have a time; a time
To think upon the part of business which
I bear i' th' state; and nature does require
Her times of preservationwhich perforce
Iher frail sonamongst my brethren mortal
Must give my tendance to.

KING. You have said well.

WOLSEY. And ever may your Highness yoke together
As I will lend you causemy doing well
With my well saying!

KING. 'Tis well said again;
And 'tis a kind of good deed to say well;
And yet words are no deeds. My father lov'd you:
He said he did; and with his deed did crown
His word upon you. Since I had my office
I have kept you next my heart; have not alone
Employ'd you where high profits might come home
But par'd my present havings to bestow
My bounties upon you.

WOLSEY. [Aside] What should this mean?
SURREY. [Aside] The Lord increase this business!
KING. Have I not made you

The prime man of the state? I pray you tell me
If what I now pronounce you have found true;
Andif you may confess itsay withal
If you are bound to us or no. What say you?

WOLSEY. My sovereignI confess your royal graces
Show'r'd on me dailyhave been more than could
My studied purposes requite; which went
Beyond all man's endeavours. My endeavours
Have ever come too short of my desires
Yet fil'd with my abilities; mine own ends
Have been mine so that evermore they pointed
To th' good of your most sacred person and
The profit of the state. For your great graces
Heap'd upon mepoor undeserverI
Can nothing render but allegiant thanks;
My pray'rs to heaven for you; my loyalty
Which ever has and ever shall be growing

Till deaththat winterkill it.

KING. Fairly answer'd!
A loyal and obedient subject is
Therein illustrated; the honour of it
Does pay the act of itasi' th' contrary
The foulness is the punishment. I presume
Thatas my hand has open'd bounty to you
My heart dropp'd lovemy pow'r rain'd honourmore
On you than anyso your hand and heart
Your brainand every function of your power
Shouldnotwithstanding that your bond of duty
As 'twere in love's particularbe more
To meyour friendthan any.

WOLSEY. I do profess
That for your Highness' good I ever labour'd
More than mine own; that amhaveand will be--
Though all the world should crack their duty to you
And throw it from their soul; though perils did
Abound as thick as thought could make 'emand
Appear in forms more horrid--yet my duty
As doth a rock against the chiding flood
Should the approach of this wild river break
And stand unshaken yours.

KING. 'Tis nobly spoken.
Take noticelordshe has a loyal breast
For you have seen him open 't. Read o'er this;

[Giving him papers]
And afterthis; and then to breakfast with
What appetite you have.

Exit the KINGfrowning upon the CARDINAL; the
NOBLES throng after himsmiling and whispering

WOLSEY. What should this mean?
What sudden anger's this? How have I reap'd it?
He parted frowning from meas if ruin
Leap'd from his eyes; so looks the chafed lion
Upon the daring huntsman that has gall'd him--
Then makes him nothing. I must read this paper;
I fearthe story of his anger. 'Tis so;
This paper has undone me. 'Tis th' account
Of all that world of wealth I have drawn together
For mine own ends; indeed to gain the popedom
And fee my friends in Rome. O negligence
Fit for a fool to fall by! What cross devil
Made me put this main secret in the packet
I sent the King? Is there no way to cure this?
No new device to beat this from his brains?
I know 'twill stir him strongly; yet I know
A wayif it take rightin spite of fortune
Will bring me off again. What's this? 'To th' Pope.'
The letteras I livewith all the business
I writ to's Holiness. Nay thenfarewell!
I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness
And from that full meridian of my glory
I haste now to my setting. I shall fall
Like a bright exhalation in the evening
And no man see me more.

Re-enter to WOLSEY the DUKES OF NORFOLK and

NORFOLK. Hear the King's pleasureCardinalwho commands you

To render up the great seal presently
Into our handsand to confine yourself
To Asher Housemy Lord of Winchester's
Till you hear further from his Highness.

Where's your commissionlords? Words cannot carry
Authority so weighty.

SUFFOLK. Who dares cross 'em
Bearing the King's will from his mouth expressly?

WOLSEY. Till I find more than will or words to do it-I
mean your malice--knowofficious lords
I dare and must deny it. Now I feel
Of what coarse metal ye are moulded--envy;
How eagerly ye follow my disgraces
As if it fed ye; and how sleek and wanton
Ye appear in every thing may bring my ruin!
Follow your envious coursesmen of malice;
You have Christian warrant for 'emand no doubt
In time will find their fit rewards. That seal
You ask with such a violencethe King-Mine
and your master--with his own hand gave me;
Bade me enjoy itwith the place and honours
During my life; andto confirm his goodness
Tied it by letters-patents. Nowwho'll take it?

SURREY. The Kingthat gave it.
WOLSEY. It must be himself then.
SURREY. Thou art a proud traitorpriest.
WOLSEY. Proud lordthou liest.

Within these forty hours Surrey durst better
Have burnt that tongue than said so.

SURREY. Thy ambition
Thou scarlet sinrobb'd this bewailing land
Of noble Buckinghammy father-in-law.
The heads of all thy brother cardinals
With thee and all thy best parts bound together
Weigh'd not a hair of his. Plague of your policy!
You sent me deputy for Ireland;
Far from his succourfrom the Kingfrom all
That might have mercy on the fault thou gav'st him;
Whilst your great goodnessout of holy pity
Absolv'd him with an axe.

WOLSEY. Thisand all else
This talking lord can lay upon my credit
I answer is most false. The Duke by law
Found his deserts; how innocent I was
From any private malice in his end
His noble jury and foul cause can witness.
If I lov'd many wordslordI should tell you
You have as little honesty as honour
That in the way of loyalty and truth
Toward the Kingmy ever royal master
Dare mate a sounder man than Surrey can be
And all that love his follies.

SURREY. By my soul
Your long coatpriestprotects you; thou shouldst feel
My sword i' the life-blood of thee else. My lords
Can ye endure to hear this arrogance?
And from this fellow? If we live thus tamely
To be thus jaded by a piece of scarlet
Farewell nobility! Let his Grace go forward
And dare us with his cap like larks.

WOLSEY. All goodness
Is poison to thy stomach.
SURREY. Yesthat goodness

Of gleaning all the land's wealth into one
Into your own handsCardinalby extortion;
The goodness of your intercepted packets
You writ to th' Pope against the King; your goodness
Since you provoke meshall be most notorious.
My Lord of Norfolkas you are truly noble
As you respect the common goodthe state
Of our despis'd nobilityour issues
Whomif he livewill scarce be gentlemen--
Produce the grand sum of his sinsthe articles
Collected from his life. I'll startle you
Worse than the sacring bellwhen the brown wench
Lay kissing in your armsLord Cardinal.

WOLSEY. How muchmethinksI could despise this man
But that I am bound in charity against it!
NORFOLK. Those articlesmy lordare in the King's hand;
Butthus muchthey are foul ones.

WOLSEY. So much fairer
And spotless shall mine innocence arise
When the King knows my truth.

SURREY. This cannot save you.
I thank my memory I yet remember
Some of these articles; and out they shall.
Nowif you can blush and cry guiltyCardinal
You'll show a little honesty.

WOLSEY. Speak onsir;
I dare your worst objections. If I blush
It is to see a nobleman want manners.

SURREY. I had rather want those than my head. Have at you!
Firstthat without the King's assent or knowledge
You wrought to be a legate; by which power
You maim'd the jurisdiction of all bishops.

NORFOLK. Thenthat in all you writ to Romeor else
To foreign princes'Ego et Rex meus'
Was still inscrib'd; in which you brought the King
To be your servant.

SUFFOLK. Thenthat without the knowledge
Either of King or Councilwhen you went
Ambassador to the Emperoryou made bold
To carry into Flanders the great seal.

SURREY. Itemyou sent a large commission
To Gregory de Cassadoto conclude
Without the King's will or the state's allowance
A league between his Highness and Ferrara.

SUFFOLK. That out of mere ambition you have caus'd
Your holy hat to be stamp'd on the King's coin.

SURREY. Thenthat you have sent innumerable substance
By what means got I leave to your own conscience
To furnish Rome and to prepare the ways
You have for dignitiesto the mere undoing
Of all the kingdom. Many more there are
Whichsince they are of youand odious
I will not taint my mouth with.

Press not a falling man too far! 'Tis virtue.
His faults lie open to the laws; let them
Not youcorrect him. My heart weeps to see him
So little of his great self.

SURREY. I forgive him.

SUFFOLK. Lord Cardinalthe King's further pleasure is-Because
all those things you have done of late
By your power legatine within this kingdom
Fall into th' compass of a praemunire-That
therefore such a writ be sued against you:

To forfeit all your goodslandstenements
Chattelsand whatsoeverand to be
Out of the King's protection. This is my charge.

NORFOLK. And so we'll leave you to your meditations
How to live better. For your stubborn answer
About the giving back the great seal to us
The King shall know itandno doubtshall thank you.
So fare you wellmy little good Lord Cardinal.

Exeunt all but WOLSEY

WOLSEY. So farewell to the little good you bear me.
Farewella long farewellto all my greatness!
This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth
The tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms
And bears his blushing honours thick upon him;
The third day comes a frosta killing frost
And when he thinksgood easy manfull surely
His greatness is a-ripeningnips his root
And then he fallsas I do. I have ventur'd
Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders
This many summers in a sea of glory;
But far beyond my depth. My high-blown pride
At length broke under meand now has left me
Weary and old with serviceto the mercy
Of a rude streamthat must for ever hide me.
Vain pomp and glory of this worldI hate ye;
I feel my heart new open'd. Ohow wretched
Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours!
There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to
That sweet aspect of princesand their ruin
More pangs and fears than wars or women have;
And when he fallshe falls like Lucifer
Never to hope again.

Enter CROMWELLstanding amazed

Whyhow nowCromwell!
CROMWELL. I have no power to speaksir.
WOLSEY. Whatamaz'd

At my misfortunes? Can thy spirit wonder
A great man should decline? Nayan you weep
I am fall'n indeed.

CROMWELL. How does your Grace?

WOLSEY. Whywell;
Never so truly happymy good Cromwell.
I know myself nowand I feel within me
A peace above all earthly dignities
A still and quiet conscience. The King has cur'd me
I humbly thank his Grace; and from these shoulders
These ruin'd pillarsout of pitytaken
A load would sink a navy--too much honour.
O'tis a burdenCromwell'tis a burden
Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven!

CROMWELL. I am glad your Grace has made that right use of it.

WOLSEY. I hope I have. I am able nowmethinks
Out of a fortitude of soul I feel
To endure more miseries and greater far
Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer.
What news abroad?

CROMWELL. The heaviest and the worst

Is your displeasure with the King.
WOLSEY. God bless him!
CROMWELL. The next is that Sir Thomas More is chosen

Lord Chancellor in your place.

WOLSEY. That's somewhat sudden.
But he's a learned man. May he continue
Long in his Highness' favourand do justice
For truth's sake and his conscience; that his bones
When he has run his course and sleeps in blessings
May have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on him!
What more?

CROMWELL. That Cranmer is return'd with welcome

Install'd Lord Archbishop of Canterbury.
WOLSEY. That's news indeed.
CROMWELL. Lastthat the Lady Anne

Whom the King hath in secrecy long married
This day was view'd in open as his queen
Going to chapel; and the voice is now
Only about her coronation.

WOLSEY. There was the weight that pull'd me down.

O Cromwell
The King has gone beyond me. All my glories
In that one woman I have lost for ever.
No sun shall ever usher forth mine honours
Or gild again the noble troops that waited
Upon my smiles. Go get thee from meCromwell;
I am a poor fall'n manunworthy now
To be thy lord and master. Seek the King;
That sunI praymay never set! I have told him
What and how true thou art. He will advance thee;
Some little memory of me will stir him--
I know his noble nature--not to let
Thy hopeful service perish too. Good Cromwell
Neglect him not; make use nowand provide
For thine own future safety.

CROMWELL. O my lord
Must I then leave you? Must I needs forgo
So goodso nobleand so true a master?
Bear witnessall that have not hearts of iron
With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord.
The King shall have my service; but my prayers
For ever and for ever shall be yours.

WOLSEY. CromwellI did not think to shed a tear
In all my miseries; but thou hast forc'd me
Out of thy honest truthto play the woman.
Let's dry our eyes; and thus far hear meCromwell
And when I am forgottenas I shall be
And sleep in dull cold marblewhere no mention
Of me more must be heard ofsay I taught thee-Say
Wolseythat once trod the ways of glory
And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour
Found thee a wayout of his wreckto rise in-A
sure and safe onethough thy master miss'd it.
Mark but my fall and that that ruin'd me.
CromwellI charge theefling away ambition:
By that sin fell the angels. How can man then
The image of his Makerhope to win by it?
Love thyself last; cherish those hearts that hate thee;
Corruption wins not more than honesty.
Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace
To silence envious tongues. Be justand fear not;
Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's
Thy God'sand truth's; thenif thou fall'stO Cromwell
Thou fall'st a blessed martyr!
Serve the Kingand--prithee lead me in.
There take an inventory of all I have
To the last penny; 'tis the King's. My robe

And my integrity to heavenis all
I dare now call mine own. O CromwellCromwell!
Had I but serv'd my God with half the zeal
I serv'd my Kinghe would not in mine age
Have left me naked to mine enemies.

CROMWELL. Good sirhave patience.
WOLSEY. So I have. Farewell
The hopes of court! My hopes in heaven do dwell.



A street in Westminster

Enter two GENTLEMENmeeting one another

FIRST GENTLEMAN. Y'are well met once again.
FIRST GENTLEMAN. You come to take your stand hereand

The Lady Anne pass from her coronation?
SECOND GENTLEMAN. 'Tis all my business. At our last encounter
The Duke of Buckingham came from his trial.
FIRST GENTLEMAN. 'Tis very true. But that time offer'd
Thisgeneral joy.

SECOND GENTLEMAN. 'Tis well. The citizens
I am surehave shown at full their royal minds--
Aslet 'em have their rightsthey are ever forward--
In celebration of this day with shows
Pageantsand sights of honour.

FIRST GENTLEMAN. Never greater
NorI'll assure youbetter takensir.
SECOND GENTLEMAN. May I be bold to ask what that contains
That paper in your hand?

FIRST GENTLEMAN. Yes; 'tis the list
Of those that claim their offices this day
By custom of the coronation.
The Duke of Suffolk is the firstand claims
To be High Steward; nextthe Duke of Norfolk
He to be Earl Marshal. You may read the rest.

SECOND GENTLEMAN. I thank yousir; had I not known
those customs
I should have been beholding to your paper.

ButI beseech youwhat's become of Katharine
The Princess Dowager? How goes her business?

FIRST GENTLEMAN. That I can tell you too. The Archbishop
Of Canterburyaccompanied with other
Learned and reverend fathers of his order
Held a late court at Dunstablesix miles of
From Ampthillwhere the Princess lay; to which
She was often cited by thembut appear'd not.
Andto be shortfor not appearance and
The King's late scrupleby the main assent
Of all these learned menshe was divorc'd
And the late marriage made of none effect;
Since which she was removed to Kimbolton
Where she remains now sick.

SECOND GENTLEMAN. Alasgood lady!
The trumpets sound. Stand closethe Queen is coming.


1. A lively flourish of trumpets.
2. Then two JUDGES.
3. LORD CHANCELLORwith purse and mace before him.
4. CHORISTERS singing.
5. MAYOR OF LONDONbearing the mace. Then GARTERin
his coat of armsand on his head he wore a gilt copper
6. MARQUIS DORSETbearing a sceptre of goldon his head a
demi-coronal of gold. With himthe EARL OF SURREY
bearing the rod of silver with the dovecrowned with an
earl's coronet. Collars of Esses.
7. DUKE OF SUFFOLKin his robe of estatehis coronet on
his headbearing a long white wandas High Steward.
With himthe DUKE OF NORFOLKwith the rod of
marshalshipa coronet on his head. Collars of Esses.
8. A canopy borne by four of the CINQUE-PORTS; under it
the QUEEN in her robe; in her hair richly adorned with
pearlcrowned. On each side herthe BISHOPS OF LONDON
9. The old DUCHESS OF NORFOLKin a coronal of gold
wrought with flowersbearing the QUEEN'S train.
10. Certain LADIES or COUNTESSESwith plain circlets of gold
without flowers.
Exeuntfirst passing over the stage in order and
stateand then a great flourish of trumpets

SECOND GENTLEMAN. A royal trainbelieve me. These know.
Who's that that bears the sceptre?
FIRST GENTLEMAN. Marquis Dorset;
And that the Earl of Surreywith the rod.
SECOND GENTLEMAN. A bold brave gentleman. That should be

The Duke of Suffolk?
FIRST GENTLEMAN. 'Tis the same--High Steward.
SECOND GENTLEMAN. And that my Lord of Norfolk?
SECOND GENTLEMAN. [Looking on the QUEEN] Heaven

bless thee!

Thou hast the sweetest face I ever look'd on.
Siras I have a soulshe is an angel;
Our king has all the Indies in his arms
And more and richerwhen he strains that lady;
I cannot blame his conscience.

FIRST GENTLEMAN. They that bear
The cloth of honour over her are four barons
Of the Cinque-ports.

SECOND GENTLEMAN. Those men are happy; and so are all

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

FIRST GENTLEMAN. It is; and all the rest are countesses.
SECOND GENTLEMAN. Their coronets say so. These are stars
And sometimes falling ones.
FIRST GENTLEMAN. No more of that.
Exit Processionwith a great flourish of

Enter a third GENTLEMAN

God save yousir! Where have you been broiling?

THIRD GENTLEMAN. Among the crowds i' th' Abbeywhere a finger
Could not be wedg'd in more; I am stifled
With the mere rankness of their joy.


The ceremony?
THIRD GENTLEMAN. Well worth the seeing.
SECOND GENTLEMAN. Good sirspeak it to us.
THIRD GENTLEMAN. As well as I am able. The rich stream

Of lords and ladieshaving brought the Queen
To a prepar'd place in the choirfell off
A distance from herwhile her Grace sat down
To rest awhilesome half an hour or so
In a rich chair of stateopposing freely
The beauty of her person to the people.
Believe mesirshe is the goodliest woman
That ever lay by man; which when the people
Had the full view ofsuch a noise arose
As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest
As loudand to as many tunes; hatscloaks--
DoubletsI think--flew upand had their faces
Been loosethis day they had been lost. Such joy
I never saw before. Great-bellied women
That had not half a week to golike rams
In the old time of warwould shake the press
And make 'em reel before 'em. No man living
Could say 'This is my wife' thereall were woven
So strangely in one piece.

SECOND GENTLEMAN. But what follow'd?
THIRD GENTLEMAN. At length her Grace roseand with

modest paces
Came to the altarwhere she kneel'dand saintlike
Cast her fair eyes to heavenand pray'd devoutly.
Then rose againand bow'd her to the people;
When by the Archbishop of Canterbury
She had all the royal makings of a queen:
As holy oilEdward Confessor's crown
The rodand bird of peaceand all such emblems

Laid nobly on her; which perform'dthe choir
With all the choicest music of the kingdom
Together sung 'Te Deum.' So she parted
And with the same full state pac'd back again
To York Placewhere the feast is held.

You must no more call it York Place: that's past:
For since the Cardinal fell that title's lost.
'Tis now the King'sand called Whitehall.

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

SECOND GENTLEMAN. What two reverend bishops
Were those that went on each side of the Queen?

THIRD GENTLEMAN. Stokesly and Gardiner: the one of Winchester
Newly preferr'd from the King's secretary;
The otherLondon.

SECOND GENTLEMAN. He of Winchester
Is held no great good lover of the Archbishop's
The virtuous Cranmer.

THIRD GENTLEMAN. All the land knows that;
Howeveryet there is no great breach. When it comes
Cranmer will find a friend will not shrink from him.

SECOND GENTLEMAN. Who may that beI pray you?

THIRD GENTLEMAN. Thomas Cromwell
A man in much esteem with th' Kingand truly
A worthy friend. The King has made him Master
O' th' jewel House
And onealreadyof the Privy Council.

SECOND GENTLEMAN. He will deserve more.

THIRD GENTLEMAN. Yeswithout all doubt.
Comegentlemenye shall go my waywhich
Is to th' courtand there ye shall be my guests:
Something I can command. As I walk thither
I'll tell ye more.

BOTH. You may command ussir.



Enter KATHARINEDowagersick; led between GRIFFITHher
Gentleman Usherand PATIENCEher woman

GRIFFITH. How does your Grace?

KATHARINE. O Griffithsick to death!
My legs like loaden branches bow to th' earth
Willing to leave their burden. Reach a chair.
So--nowmethinksI feel a little ease.
Didst thou not tell meGriffithas thou led'st me
That the great child of honourCardinal Wolsey
Was dead?

GRIFFITH. Yesmadam; but I think your Grace
Out of the pain you suffer'dgave no ear to't.
KATHARINE. Pritheegood Griffithtell me how he died.

If wellhe stepp'd before mehappily
For my example.

GRIFFITH. Wellthe voice goesmadam;
For after the stout Earl Northumberland
Arrested him at York and brought him forward
As a man sorely taintedto his answer
He fell sick suddenlyand grew so ill
He could not sit his mule.

KATHARINE. Alaspoor man!

GRIFFITH. At lastwith easy roadshe came to Leicester
Lodg'd in the abbey; where the reverend abbot
With all his coventhonourably receiv'd him;
To whom he gave these words: 'O father Abbot
An old manbroken 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 meditationstearsand sorrows
He gave his honours to the world again
His blessed part to heavenand slept in peace.

KATHARINE. So may he rest; his faults lie gently on him!
Yet thus farGriffithgive me leave to speak him
And yet with charity. He was a man
Of an unbounded stomachever ranking
Himself with princes; one thatby suggestion
Tied all the kingdom. Simony was fair play;
His own opinion was his law. I' th' presence
He would say untruthsand be ever double
Both in his words and meaning. He was never
But where he meant to ruinpitiful.
His promises wereas he then wasmighty;
But his performanceas he is nownothing.
Of his own body he was illand gave
The clergy ill example.

GRIFFITH. Noble madam
Men's evil manners live in brass: their virtues
We write in water. May it please your Highness
To hear me speak his good now?

KATHARINE. Yesgood Griffith;
I were malicious else.

GRIFFITH. This Cardinal
Though from an humble stockundoubtedly
Was fashion'd to much honour from his cradle.
He was a scholarand a ripe and good one;
Exceeding wisefair-spokenand persuading;
Lofty and sour to them that lov'd him not
But to those men that sought him sweet as summer.
And though he were unsatisfied in getting-Which
was a sin--yet in bestowingmadam
He was most princely: ever witness for him
Those twins of learning that he rais'd in you
Ipswich and Oxford! One of which fell with him
Unwilling to outlive the good that did it;
The otherthough unfinish'dyet so famous
So excellent in artand still so rising
That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.
His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him;
For thenand not till thenhe felt himself
And found the blessedness of being little.
Andto add greater honours to his age
Than man could give himhe died fearing God.

KATHARINE. After my death I wish no other herald
No other speaker of my living actions
To keep mine honour from corruption
But such an honest chronicler as Griffith.
Whom I most hated livingthou hast made me
With thy religious truth and modesty
Now in his ashes honour. Peace be with him!
Patiencebe near me stilland set me lower:
I have not long to trouble thee. Good Griffith
Cause the musicians play me that sad note
I nam'd my knellwhilst I sit meditating
On that celestial harmony I go to.

[Sad and solemn
GRIFFITH. She is asleep. Good wenchlet's sit down quiet
For fear we wake her. Softlygentle Patience.


Entersolemnly tripping one after anothersix
PERSONAGES clad in white robeswearing on their
heads garlands of baysand golden vizards on their
faces; branches of bays or palm in their hands. They
first congee unto herthen dance; andat certain
changesthe first two hold a spare garland over her
headat which the other four make reverent curtsies.
Then the two that held the garland deliver the
same to the other next twowho observe the same
order in their changesand holding the garland over
her head; which donethey deliver the same garland
to the last twowho likewise observe the same order;
at whichas it were by inspirationshe makes
in her sleep signs of rejoicingand holdeth up her
hands to heaven. And so in their dancing vanish
carrying the garland with them. The music continues.

KATHARINE. Spirits of peacewhere are ye? Are ye all gone?

And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye?
GRIFFITH. Madamwe are here.
KATHARINE. It is not you I call for.

Saw ye none enter since I slept?
GRIFFITH. Nonemadam.
KATHARINE. No? Saw you noteven nowa blessed troop

Invite me to a banquet; whose bright faces
Cast thousand beams upon melike the sun?
They promis'd me eternal happiness
And brought me garlandsGriffithwhich I feel
I am not worthy yet to wear. I shallassuredly.

GRIFFITH. I am most joyfulmadamsuch good dreams
Possess your fancy.
KATHARINE. Bid the music leave
They are harsh and heavy to me. [Music

PATIENCE. Do you note
How much her Grace is alter'd on the sudden?
How long her face is drawn! How pale she looks
And of an earthly cold! Mark her eyes.

GRIFFITH. She is goingwench. Praypray.
PATIENCE. Heaven comfort her!


MESSENGER. An't like your Grace--
KATHARINE. You are a saucy fellow.
Deserve we no more reverence?

GRIFFITH. You are to blame
Knowing she will not lose her wonted greatness
To use so rude behaviour. Go tokneel.

MESSENGER. I humbly do entreat your Highness' pardon;
My haste made me unmannerly. There is staying
A gentlemansent from the Kingto see you.

KATHARINE. Admit him entranceGriffith; but this fellow
Let me ne'er see again. Exit MESSENGER


If my sight fail not
You should be Lord Ambassador from the Emperor
My royal nephewand your name Capucius.

CAPUCIUS. Madamthe same--your servant.

The times and titles now are alter'd strangely
With me since first you knew me. ButI pray you
What is your pleasure with me?

CAPUCIUS. Noble lady
Firstmine own service to your Grace; the next
The King's request that I would visit you
Who grieves much for your weaknessand by me
Sends you his princely commendations
And heartily entreats you take good comfort.

KATHARINE. O my good lordthat comfort comes too late
'Tis like a pardon after execution:
That gentle physicgiven in timehad cur'd me;
But now I am past all comforts herebut prayers.
How does his Highness?

CAPUCIUS. Madamin good health.

KATHARINE. So may he ever do! and ever flourish
When I shall dwell with wormsand my poor name
Banish'd the kingdom! Patienceis that letter
I caus'd you write yet sent away?

PATIENCE. Nomadam. [Giving it to
KATHARINE. SirI most humbly pray you to deliver

This to my lord the King.
CAPUCIUS. Most willingmadam.
KATHARINE. In which I have commended to his goodness

The model of our chaste loveshis young daughter--
The dews of heaven fall thick in blessings on her!--
Beseeching him to give her virtuous breeding--
She is youngand of a noble modest nature;
I hope she will deserve well--and a little
To love her for her mother's sakethat lov'd him
Heaven knows how dearly. My next poor petition
Is that his noble Grace would have some pity
Upon my wretched women that so long
Have follow'd both my fortunes faithfully;
Of which there is not oneI dare avow--
And now I should not lie--but will deserve
For virtue and true beauty of the soul
For honesty and decent carriage
A right good husbandlet him be a noble;

And sure those men are happy that shall have 'em.

The last is for my men--they are the poorest

But poverty could never draw 'em from me-

That they may have their wages duly paid 'em

And something over to remember me by.

If heaven had pleas'd to have given me longer life

And able meanswe had not parted thus.

These are the whole contents; andgood my lord

By that you love the dearest in this world

As you wish Christian peace to souls departed

Stand these poor people's friendand urge the King

To do me this last right.

CAPUCIUS. By heavenI will

Or let me lose the fashion of a man!

KATHARINE. I thank youhonest lord. Remember me

In all humility unto his Highness;

Say his long trouble now is passing

Out of this world. Tell him in death I bless'd him

For so I will. Mine eyes grow dim. Farewell

My lord. Griffithfarewell. NayPatience

You must not leave me yet. I must to bed;

Call in more women. When I am deadgood wench

Let me be us'd with honour; strew me over

With maiden flowersthat all the world may know

I was a chaste wife to my grave. Embalm me

Then lay me forth; although unqueen'dyet like

A queenand daughter to a kinginter me.

I can no more. Exeuntleading



London. A gallery in the palace


GARDINER. It's one o'clockboyis't not?

BOY. It hath struck.

GARDINER. These should be hours for necessities

Not for delights; times to repair our nature

With comforting reposeand not for us

To waste these times. Good hour of nightSir Thomas!

Whither so late?

LOVELL. Came you from the Kingmy lord?
GARDINER. I didSir Thomasand left him at primero
With the Duke of Suffolk.
LOVELL. I must to him too
Before he go to bed. I'll take my leave.

GARDINER. Not yetSir Thomas Lovell. What's the matter?
It seems you are in haste. An if there be
No great offence belongs to'tgive your friend
Some touch of your late business. Affairs that walk-As
they say spirits do--at midnighthave
In them a wilder nature than the business
That seeks despatch by day.

LOVELL. My lordI love you;
And durst commend a secret to your ear
Much weightier than this work. The Queen's in labour
They say in great extremityand fear'd
She'll with the labour end.

GARDINER. The fruit she goes with
I pray for heartilythat it may find
Good timeand live; but for the stockSir Thomas
I wish it grubb'd up now.

LOVELL. Methinks I could
Cry thee amen; and yet my conscience says
She's a good creatureandsweet ladydoes
Deserve our better wishes.

GARDINER. Butsirsir-Hear
meSir Thomas. Y'are a gentleman
Of mine own way; I know you wisereligious;
Andlet me tell youit will ne'er be well-'
Twill notSir Thomas Lovelltake't of me-Till
CranmerCromwellher two handsand she
Sleep in their graves.

LOVELL. Nowsiryou speak of two
The most remark'd i' th' kingdom. As for Cromwell
Beside that of the Jewel Houseis made Master
O' th' Rollsand the King's secretary; furthersir
Stands in the gap and trade of moe preferments
With which the time will load him. Th' Archbishop
Is the King's hand and tongueand who dare speak
One syllable against him?

GARDINER. YesyesSir Thomas
There are that dare; and I myself have ventur'd
To speak my mind of him; and indeed this day
Sir--I may tell it you--I think I have
Incens'd the lords o' th' Councilthat he is-For
so I know he isthey know he is-A
most arch heretica pestilence
That does infect the land; with which they moved
Have broken with the Kingwho hath so far
Given ear to our complaint--of his great grace
And princely careforeseeing those fell mischiefs
Our reasons laid before him--hath commanded
To-morrow morning to the Council board
He be convented. He's a rank weedSir Thomas
And we must root him out. From your affairs
I hinder you too long--good nightSir Thomas.

LOVELL. Many good nightsmy lord; I rest your servant.

Enter the KING and the DUKE OF SUFFOLK

KING. CharlesI will play no more to-night;

My mind's not on't; you are too hard for me.
SUFFOLK. SirI did never win of you before.
KING. But littleCharles;

Nor shall notwhen my fancy's on my play.
NowLovellfrom the Queen what is the news?

LOVELL. I could not personally deliver to her
What you commanded mebut by her woman
I sent your message; who return'd her thanks
In the great'st humblenessand desir'd your Highness
Most heartily to pray for her.

KING. What say'st thouha?
To pray for her? Whatis she crying out?
LOVELL. So said her woman; and that her suff'rance made

Almost each pang a death.
KING. Alasgood lady!
SUFFOLK. God safely quit her of her burdenand

With gentle travailto the gladding of
Your Highness with an heir!

KING. 'Tis midnightCharles;
Prithee to bed; and in thy pray'rs remember
Th' estate of my poor queen. Leave me alone
For I must think of that which company
Will not be friendly to.

SUFFOLK. I wish your Highness
A quiet nightand my good mistress will
Remember in my prayers.

KING. Charlesgood night. Exit SUFFOLK


Wellsirwhat follows?
DENNY. SirI have brought my lord the Archbishop

As you commanded me.
KING. Ha! Canterbury?
DENNY. Aymy good lord.
KING. 'Tis true. Where is heDenny?
DENNY. He attends your Highness' pleasure.
KING. Bring him to us. Exit DENNY
LOVELL. [Aside] This is about that which the bishop spake.

I am happily come hither.


KING. Avoid the gallery. [LOVELL seems to stay]
Ha! I have said. Be gone.
What! Exeunt LOVELL and DENNY

CRANMER. [Aside] I am fearful--wherefore frowns he thus?
'Tis his aspect of terror. All's not well.
KING. How nowmy lord? You do desire to know
Wherefore I sent for you.
CRANMER. [Kneeling] It is my duty
T'attend your Highness' pleasure.

KING. Pray youarise
My good and gracious Lord of Canterbury.
Comeyou and I must walk a turn together;
I have news to tell you; comecomegive me your hand.
Ahmy good lordI grieve at what I speak
And am right sorry to repeat what follows.
I haveand most unwillinglyof late
Heard many grievous--I do saymy lord

Grievous--complaints of you; whichbeing consider'd
Have mov'd us and our Council that you shall
This morning come before us; where I know
You cannot with such freedom purge yourself
But thattill further trial in those charges
Which will require your answeryou must take
Your patience to you and be well contented
To make your house our Tow'r. You a brother of us
It fits we thus proceedor else no witness
Would come against you.

CRANMER. I humbly thank your Highness
And am right glad to catch this good occasion
Most throughly to be winnowed where my chaff
And corn shall fly asunder; for I know
There's none stands under more calumnious tongues
Than I myselfpoor man.

KING. Stand upgood Canterbury;
Thy truth and thy integrity is rooted
In usthy friend. Give me thy handstand up;
Prithee let's walk. Nowby my holidame
What manner of man are you? My lordI look'd
You would have given me your petition that
I should have ta'en some pains to bring together
Yourself and your accusersand to have heard you
Without indurance further.

CRANMER. Most dread liege
The good I stand on is my truth and honesty;
If they shall failI with mine enemies
Will triumph o'er my person; which I weigh not
Being of those virtues vacant. I fear nothing
What can be said against me.

KING. Know you not
How your state stands i' th' worldwith the whole world?
Your enemies are manyand not small; their practices
Must bear the same proportion; and not ever
The justice and the truth o' th' question carries
The due o' th' verdict with it; at what ease
Might corrupt minds procure knaves as corrupt
To swear against you? Such things have been done.
You are potently oppos'dand with a malice
Of as great size. Ween you of better luck
I mean in perjur'd witnessthan your Master
Whose minister you arewhiles here He liv'd
Upon this naughty earth? Go togo to;
You take a precipice for no leap of danger
And woo your own destruction.

CRANMER. God and your Majesty
Protect mine innocenceor I fall into
The trap is laid for me!

KING. Be of good cheer;
They shall no more prevail than we give way to.
Keep comfort to youand this morning see
You do appear before them; if they shall chance
In charging you with mattersto commit you
The best persuasions to the contrary
Fail not to useand with what vehemency
Th' occasion shall instruct you. If entreaties
Will render you no remedythis ring
Deliver themand your appeal to us
There make before them. Lookthe good man weeps!
He's honeston mine honour. God's blest Mother!
I swear he is true-heartedand a soul
None better in my kingdom. Get you gone
And do as I have bid you.


He has strangled his language in his tears.


GENTLEMAN. [Within] Come back; what mean you?

OLD LADY. I'll not come back; the tidings that I bring
Will make my boldness manners. Nowgood angels
Fly o'er thy royal headand shade thy person
Under their blessed wings!

KING. Nowby thy looks
I guess thy message. Is the Queen deliver'd?
Say ayand of a boy.

OLD LADY. Ayaymy liege;
And of a lovely boy. The God of Heaven
Both now and ever bless her! 'Tis a girl
Promises boys hereafter. Siryour queen
Desires your visitationand to be
Acquainted with this stranger; 'tis as like you
As cherry is to cherry.

KING. Lovell!


KING. Give her an hundred marks. I'll to the Queen.

OLD LADY. An hundred marks? By this lightI'll ha' more!
An ordinary groom is for such payment.
I will have moreor scold it out of him.
Said I for this the girl was like to him! I'll
Have moreor else unsay't; and nowwhile 'tis hot
I'll put it to the issue.



Lobby before the Council Chamber


CRANMER. I hope I am not too late; and yet the gentleman
That was sent to me from the Council pray'd me
To make great haste. All fast? What means this? Ho!
Who waits there? Sure you know me?


KEEPER. Yesmy lord;

But yet I cannot help you.
KEEPER. Your Grace must wait till you be call'd for.



BUTTS. [Aside] This is a piece of malice. I am glad
I came this way so happily; the King
Shall understand it presently.


CRANMER. [Aside] 'Tis Butts
The King's physician; as he pass'd along
How earnestly he cast his eyes upon me!
Pray heaven he sound not my disgrace! For certain
This is of purpose laid by some that hate me--
God turn their hearts! I never sought their malice--
To quench mine honour; they would shame to make me
Wait else at doora fellow councillor
'Mong boysgroomsand lackeys. But their pleasures
Must be fulfill'dand I attend with patience.

Enter the KING and BUTTS at window above

BUTTS. I'll show your Grace the strangest sight--
KING. What's thatButts?
BUTTS. I think your Highness saw this many a day.
KING. Body a mewhere is it?
BUTTS. There my lord:

The high promotion of his Grace of Canterbury;
Who holds his state at door'mongst pursuivants
Pagesand footboys.

KING. Ha'tis he indeed.
Is this the honour they do one another?
'Tis well there's one above 'em yet. I had thought
They had parted so much honesty among 'em--
At least good manners--as not thus to suffer
A man of his placeand so near our favour
To dance attendance on their lordships' pleasures
And at the door toolike a post with packets.
By holy MaryButtsthere's knavery!
Let 'em aloneand draw the curtain close;
We shall hear more anon.



The Council Chamber

A Council table brought inwith chairs and stoolsand placed
under the state. Enter LORD CHANCELLORplaces himself at the
upper end of the table on the left banda seat being left void
above him

as for Canterbury's seat. DUKE OF SUFFOLKDUKE OF NORFOLK
order on each side; CROMWELL at lower endas secretary.
KEEPER at the door

CHANCELLOR. Speak to the businessmaster secretary;
Why are we met in council?
CROMWELL. Please your honours

The chief cause concerns his Grace of Canterbury.
GARDINER. Has he had knowledge of it?
NORFOLK. Who waits there?
KEEPER. Withoutmy noble lords?
KEEPER. My Lord Archbishop;

And has done half an hourto know your pleasures.
CHANCELLOR. Let him come in.
KEEPER. Your Grace may enter now.

CRANMER approaches the Council table

CHANCELLOR. My good Lord ArchbishopI am very sorry
To sit here at this presentand behold
That chair stand empty; but we all are men
In our own natures frail and capable
Of our flesh; few are angels; out of which frailty
And want of wisdomyouthat best should teach us
Have misdemean'd yourselfand not a little
Toward the King firstthen his lawsin filling
The whole realm by your teaching and your chaplains-For
so we are inform'd--with new opinions
Divers and dangerous; which are heresies
Andnot reform'dmay prove pernicious.

GARDINER. Which reformation must be sudden too
My noble lords; for those that tame wild horses
Pace 'em not in their hands to make 'em gentle
But stop their mouth with stubborn bits and spur 'em
Till they obey the manage. If we suffer
Out of our easiness and childish pity
To one man's honourthis contagious sickness
Farewell all physic; and what follows then?
Commotionsuproarswith a general taint
Of the whole state; as of late days our neighbours
The upper Germanycan dearly witness
Yet freshly pitied in our memories.

CRANMER. My good lordshitherto in all the progress
Both of my life and officeI have labour'd
And with no little studythat my teaching
And the strong course of my authority
Might go one wayand safely; and the end
Was ever to do well. Nor is there living--
I speak it with a single heartmy lords--
A man that more detestsmore stirs against
Both in his private conscience and his place
Defacers of a public peace than I do.
Pray heaven the King may never find a heart
With less allegiance in it! Men that make
Envy and crooked malice nourishment
Dare bite the best. I do beseech your lordships
Thatin this case of justicemy accusers
Be what they willmay stand forth face to face

And freely urge against me.

SUFFOLK. Naymy lord
That cannot be; you are a councillor
And by that virtue no man dare accuse you.

GARDINER. My lordbecause we have business of more moment
We will be short with you. 'Tis his Highness' pleasure
And our consentfor better trial of you
From hence you be committed to the Tower;
Wherebeing but a private man again
You shall know many dare accuse you boldly
More thanI fearyou are provided for.

CRANMER. Ahmy good Lord of WinchesterI thank you;
You are always my good friend; if your will pass
I shall both find your lordship judge and juror
You are so merciful. I see your end-'
Tis my undoing. Love and meeknesslord
Become a churchman better than ambition;
Win straying souls with modesty again
Cast none away. That I shall clear myself
Lay all the weight ye can upon my patience
I make as little doubt as you do conscience
In doing daily wrongs. I could say more
But reverence to your calling makes me modest.

GARDINER. My lordmy lordyou are a sectary;
That's the plain truth. Your painted gloss discovers
To men that understand youwords and weakness.

CROMWELL. My Lord of Winchestery'are a little
By your good favourtoo sharp; men so noble
However faultyyet should find respect
For what they have been; 'tis a cruelty
To load a falling man.

GARDINER. Good Master Secretary
I cry your honour mercy; you mayworst
Of all this tablesay so.

CROMWELL. Whymy lord?
GARDINER. Do not I know you for a favourer

Of this new sect? Ye are not sound.
CROMWELL. Not sound?
GARDINER. Not soundI say.
CROMWELL. Would you were half so honest!

Men's prayers then would seek younot their fears.
GARDINER. I shall remember this bold language.

Remember your bold life too.
CHANCELLOR. This is too much;

Forbearfor shamemy lords.
GARDINER. I have done.
CHANCELLOR. Then thus for youmy lord: it stands agreed

I take itby all voicesthat forthwith
You be convey'd to th' Tower a prisoner;
There to remain till the King's further pleasure
Be known unto us. Are you all agreedlords?

ALL. We are.
CRANMER. Is there no other way of mercy
But I must needs to th' Towermy lords?

GARDINER. What other
Would you expect? You are strangely troublesome.
Let some o' th' guard be ready there.

Enter the guard

CRANMER. For me?
Must I go like a traitor thither?
GARDINER. Receive him
And see him safe i' th' Tower.

CRANMER. Staygood my lords
I have a little yet to say. Look theremy lords;
By virtue of that ring I take my cause
Out of the gripes of cruel men and give it
To a most noble judgethe King my master.

CHAMBERLAIN. This is the King's ring.
SURREY. 'Tis no counterfeit.
SUFFOLK. 'Tis the right ringby heav'n. I told ye all

When we first put this dangerous stone a-rolling
'Twould fall upon ourselves.

NORFOLK. Do you thinkmy lords
The King will suffer but the little finger
Of this man to be vex'd?

CHAMBERLAIN. 'Tis now too certain;
How much more is his life in value with him!
Would I were fairly out on't!

CROMWELL. My mind gave me
In seeking tales and informations
Against this man--whose honesty the devil
And his disciples only envy at-Ye
blew the fire that burns ye. Now have at ye!

Enter the KING frowning on them; he takes his seat

GARDINER. Dread sovereignhow much are we bound to heaven
In daily thanksthat gave us such a prince;
Not only good and wise but most religious;
One that in all obedience makes the church
The chief aim of his honour andto strengthen
That holy dutyout of dear respect
His royal self in judgment comes to hear
The cause betwixt her and this great offender.

KING. You were ever good at sudden commendations
Bishop of Winchester. But know I come not
To hear such flattery nowand in my presence
They are too thin and bare to hide offences.
To me you cannot reach you play the spaniel
And think with wagging of your tongue to win me;
But whatsoe'er thou tak'st me forI'm sure
Thou hast a cruel nature and a bloody.
[To CRANMER] Good mansit down. Now let me see the proudest
He that dares most but wag his finger at thee.
By all that's holyhe had better starve
Than but once think this place becomes thee not.

SURREY. May it please your Grace-

KING. Nosirit does not please me.
I had thought I had had men of some understanding
And wisdom of my Council; but I find none.
Was it discretionlordsto let this man
This good man--few of you deserve that title-This
honest manwait like a lousy footboy
At chamber door? and one as great as you are?
Whywhat a shame was this! Did my commission
Bid ye so far forget yourselves? I gave ye
Power as he was a councillor to try him
Not as a groom. There's some of yeI see
More out of malice than integrity
Would try him to the utmosthad ye mean;

Which ye shall never have while I live.

My most dread sovereignmay it like your Grace
To let my tongue excuse all. What was purpos'd
Concerning his imprisonment was rather--
If there be faith in men--meant for his trial
And fair purgation to the worldthan malice
I'm surein me.

KING. Wellwellmy lordsrespect him;
Take himand use him wellhe's worthy of it.
I will say thus much for him: if a prince
May be beholding to a subject
Am for his love and service so to him.
Make me no more adobut all embrace him;
Be friendsfor shamemy lords! My Lord of Canterbury
I have a suit which you must not deny me:
That isa fair young maid that yet wants baptism;
You must be godfatherand answer for her.

CRANMER. The greatest monarch now alive may glory
In such an honour; how may I deserve it
That am a poor and humble subject to you?

KING. Comecomemy lordyou'd spare your spoons. You

shall have
Two noble partners with you: the old Duchess of Norfolk
And Lady Marquis Dorset. Will these please you?
Once moremy Lord of WinchesterI charge you
Embrace and love this man.

GARDINER. With a true heart
And brother-love I do it.
CRANMER. And let heaven
Witness how dear I hold this confirmation.

KING. Good manthose joyful tears show thy true heart.
The common voiceI seeis verified
Of theewhich says thus: 'Do my Lord of Canterbury
A shrewd turn and he's your friend for ever.'
Comelordswe trifle time away; I long
To have this young one made a Christian.
As I have made ye onelordsone remain;
So I grow strongeryou more honour gain.



The palace yard

Noise and tumult within. Enter PORTER and his MAN

PORTER. You'll leave your noise anonye rascals. Do you
take the court for Paris garden? Ye rude slavesleave your
[Within: Good master porterI belong to th' larder.]

PORTER. Belong to th' gallowsand be hang'dye rogue! Is
this a place to roar in? Fetch me a dozen crab-tree staves
and strong ones; these are but switches to 'em. I'll scratch
your heads. You must be seeing christenings? Do you look
for ale and cakes hereyou rude rascals?

MAN. Praysirbe patient; 'tis as much impossible
Unless we sweep 'em from the door with cannons
To scatter 'em as 'tis to make 'em sleep
On May-day morning; which will never be.
We may as well push against Paul's as stir 'em.

PORTER. How got they inand be hang'd?

MAN. AlasI know not: how gets the tide in?
As much as one sound cudgel of four foot--
You see the poor remainder--could distribute
I made no sparesir.

PORTER. You did nothingsir.

MAN. I am not Samsonnor Sir Guynor Colbrand
To mow 'em down before me; but if I spar'd any
That had a head to hiteither young or old
He or shecuckold or cuckold-maker
Let me ne'er hope to see a chine again;
And that I would not for a cowGod save her!
[ Within: Do you hearmaster porter?]

PORTER. I shall be with you presentlygood master puppy.

Keep the door closesirrah.
MAN. What would you have me do?
PORTER. What should you dobut knock 'em down by th'

dozens? Is this Moorfields to muster in? Or have we some
strange Indian with the great tool come to courtthe
women so besiege us? Bless mewhat a fry of fornication
is at door! On my Christian consciencethis one christening
will beget a thousand: here will be fathergodfather
and all together.

MAN. The spoons will be the biggersir. There is a fellow
somewhat near the doorhe should be a brazier by his
faceforo' my consciencetwenty of the dog-days now
reign in's nose; all that stand about him are under the line
they need no other penance. That fire-drake did I hit three
times on the headand three times was his nose discharged
against me; he stands there like a mortar-pieceto blow us.
There was a haberdasher's wife of small wit near himthat
rail'd upon me till her pink'd porringer fell off her head
for kindling such a combustion in the state. I miss'd the
meteor onceand hit that womanwho cried out 'Clubs!'
when I might see from far some forty truncheoners draw
to her succourwhich were the hope o' th' Strandwhere
she was quartered. They fell on; I made good my place.
At length they came to th' broomstaff to me; I defied 'em
still; when suddenly a file of boys behind 'emloose shot
deliver'd such a show'r of pebbles that I was fain to draw
mine honour in and let 'em win the work: the devil was
amongst 'emI think surely.

PORTER. These are the youths that thunder at a playhouse
and fight for bitten apples; that no audience but the
tribulation of Tower-hill or the limbs of Limehousetheir

brothersare able to endure. I have some of 'em in Limbo
Patrumand there they are like to dance these three days;
besides the running banquet of two beadles that is to come.


CHAMBERLAIN. Mercy o' mewhat a multitude are here!
They grow still too; from all parts they are coming
As if we kept a fair here! Where are these porters
These lazy knaves? Y'have made a fine handfellows.
There's a trim rabble let in: are all these

Your faithful friends o' th' suburbs? We shall have
Great store of roomno doubtleft for the ladies
When they pass back from the christening.

PORTER. An't please your honour
We are but men; and what so many may do
Not being torn a pieceswe have done.
An army cannot rule 'em.

If the King blame me for'tI'll lay ye all
By th' heelsand suddenly; and on your heads
Clap round fines for neglect. Y'are lazy knaves;
And here ye lie baiting of bombardswhen
Ye should do service. Hark! the trumpets sound;
Th' are come already from the christening.
Go break among the press and find a way out
To let the troops pass fairlyor I'll find
A Marshalsea shall hold ye play these two months.

PORTER. Make way there for the Princess.
MAN. You great fellow
Stand close upor I'll make your head ache.
PORTER. You i' th' camletget up o' th' rail;
I'll peck you o'er the pales else.


The palace

CRANMERDUKE OF NORFOLKwith his marshal's staffDUKE OF
two Noblemen bearing great standing-bowls for the christening
then four Noblemen bearing a canopyunder which the DUCHESS OF
NORFOLKgodmotherbearing the CHILD richly habited in a mantle
train borne by a LADY; then follows the MARCHIONESS DORSET
the other godmotherand LADIES. The troop pass once about the
stageand GARTER speaks

GARTER. Heavenfrom thy endless goodnesssend prosperous
lifelong and ever-happyto the high and mighty
Princess of EnglandElizabeth!

Flourish. Enter KING and guard

CRANMER. [Kneeling] And to your royal Grace and the

good Queen!
My noble partners and myself thus pray:
All comfortjoyin this most gracious lady
Heaven ever laid up to make parents happy
May hourly fall upon ye!

KING. Thank yougood Lord Archbishop.
What is her name?
CRANMER. Elizabeth.

KING. Stand uplord. [The KING kisses the child]
With this kiss take my blessing: God protect thee!
Into whose hand I give thy life.


KING. My noble gossipsy'have been too prodigal;
I thank ye heartily. So shall this lady
When she has so much English.

CRANMER. Let me speaksir
For heaven now bids me; and the words I utter
Let none think flatteryfor they'll find 'em truth.
This royal infant--heaven still move about her!--
Though in her cradleyet now promises
Upon this land a thousand blessings
Which time shall bring to ripeness. She shall be-But
few now living can behold that goodness-A
pattern to all princes living with her
And all that shall succeed. Saba was never
More covetous of wisdom and fair virtue
Than this pure soul shall be. All princely graces
That mould up such a mighty piece as this is
With all the virtues that attend the good
Shall still be doubled on her. Truth shall nurse her
Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her;
She shall be lov'd and fear'd. Her own shall bless her:
Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn
And hang their heads with sorrow. Good grows with her;
In her days every man shall eat in safety
Under his own vine what he plantsand sing
The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours.
God shall be truly known; and those about her
From her shall read the perfect ways of honour
And by those claim their greatnessnot by blood.
Nor shall this peace sleep with her; but as when
The bird of wonder diesthe maiden phoenix
Her ashes new create another heir
As great in admiration as herself
So shall she leave her blessedness to one-When
heaven shall call her from this cloud of darkness-Who
from the sacred ashes of her honour
Shall star-like riseas great in fame as she was
And so stand fix'd. Peaceplentylovetruthterror
That were the servants to this chosen infant
Shall then be hisand like a vine grow to him;
Wherever the bright sun of heaven shall shine
His honour and the greatness of his name
Shall beand make new nations; he shall flourish
And like a mountain cedar reach his branches
To all the plains about him; our children's children
Shall see this and bless heaven.

KING. Thou speakest wonders.

CRANMER. She shall beto the happiness of England
An aged princess; many days shall see her
And yet no day without a deed to crown it.
Would I had known no more! But she must die-She
mustthe saints must have her--yet a virgin;
A most unspotted lily shall she pass
To th' groundand all the world shall mourn her.

KING. O Lord Archbishop
Thou hast made me now a man; never before
This happy child did I get anything.
This oracle of comfort has so pleas'd me
That when I am in heaven I shall desire
To see what this child doesand praise my Maker.
I thank ye all. To youmy good Lord Mayor

And yougood brethrenI am much beholding;
I have receiv'd much honour by your presence
And ye shall find me thankful. Lead the waylords;
Ye must all see the Queenand she must thank ye
She will be sick else. This dayno man think
Has business at his house; for all shall stay.
This little one shall make it holiday.



'Tis ten to one this play can never please
All that are here. Some come to take their ease
And sleep an act or two; but thosewe fear
W'have frighted with our trumpets; so'tis clear
They'll say 'tis nought; others to hear the city
Abus'd extremelyand to cry 'That's witty!'
Which we have not done neither; thatI fear
All the expected good w'are like to hear
For this play at this time is only in
The merciful construction of good women;
For such a one we show'd 'em. If they smile
And say 'twill doI know within a while
All the best men are ours; for 'tis ill hap
If they hold when their ladies bid 'em clap.