Between the king and you; and to deliver, Like free and honest men, our just opinions, And comforts to your cause.

Cam. Most honour'd madam,

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

Q. Kath. To betray me. [Aside. My lords, I thank you for both your good wills, Ye speak like honest men, (pray God, ye prove so!)

But how to make you suddenly an answer, In such a point of weight, so near mine honour,

(More near my life, I fear,, with my weak wit,
And to such men of gravity and learning,
In truth, I know not. I was set at work
Among my maids; full little, God knows,
looking

Either for such men, or such business.
For her sake that I have been, (for I feel
The last fit of my greatness,) good your graces,
Let me have time, and counsel, for my cause;
Alas! I am a woman, friendless, hopeless.

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

Your hopes and friends are infinite.
Q. Kath. In England,

But little for my profit: Can you think, lords,
That any Englishman dare give me counsel?
Or be a known friend, 'gainst his highness'
pleasure,

[est,)

(Though he be grown so desperate to be honAnd live a subject? Nay, forsooth, my friends, They that must weigh out my afflictions, They that my trust must grow to, live not here; They are, as all my other comforts, far hence, In mine own country, lords.

Cum. I would, your grace Would leave your griefs, and take my counsel. Q. Kath. How, Sir?

Cam. Put your main cause into the king's protection; [much He's loving, and most gracious; 'twill be Both for your honour better, and your cause; For, if the trial of the law o'ertake you, You'll part away disgrac'd.

Wol. He tells you rightly.

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

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

Cum. Your rage mistakes us.

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

Upon my soul, two reverend cardinal virtues:
But cardinal sins, and hollow hearts, I fear ye:
Mend them for shame, my lords. Is this your
comfort?

The cordial that ye bring a wretched lady?
A woman lost among ye, laugh'd at, scorn'd?
I will not wish ye half my miseries,

I have more charity: But say, I warn'd ye;
Take heed, for heaven's sake, take heed, lest

Alas! he has banish'd me his bed already;
His love, too long ago: I am old, my lords,
And all the fellowship I hold now with him
Is only my obedience. What can happen
To me above this wretchedness? all your
Make me a curse like this.
[studies

Cam. Your fears are worse. Q. Kath. Have I liv'd thus long-(let me speak myself, [one! Since virtue finds no friends,)-—a wife, a true A woman (I dare say, without vainglory,) Never yet branded with suspicion? Have I with all my full affections Still met the king? lov'd him next heaven? obey'd him?

Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him? Almost forgot my prayers to content him? And am I thus rewarded? 'tis not well, lords. Bring me a constant woman to her husband, One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his plea

Wol. 'Pray, hear me.

Q. Kath. 'Would I had never trod this English earth,

Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it! Ye have angels' faces, but heaven knows your hearts.

What will become of me now, wretched lady? I am the most unhappy woman living.Alas! poor wenches, where are now your fortunes? [To her Women. Shipwreck'd upon a kingdom, where no pity, No friends, no hope; no kindred weep for me, Almost no grave allow'd me:-Like the lily, That once was mistress of the field, and flourish'd,

I'll hang my head, and perish.

Wol. If your grace

Could but be brought to know, our ends are honest,

You'd feel more comfort: why should we,

good lady,

Upon what cause, wrong you? alas! our places,
The way of our profession is against it;
We are to cure such sorrows, not to sow them.
For goodness' sake, consider what you do;
How you may hurt yourself, ay, utterly
Grow from the king's acquaintance, by 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 gentle, noble temper,
A soul as even as a calm; Pray, think us
Those we profess, peace-makers, friends, and

servants.

Cam. Madam, you'll find it so. You wrong your virtues [spirit, With these weak women's fears. A noble

Served him with superstitious attention

Sur. I am joyful

To meet the least occasion, that may give me Remembrance of my father-in-law, the duke, To be reveng'd on him.

Suf. Which of the peers

Have uncontemn'd gone by him, or at least
Strangely neglected? when did he regard
The stamp of nobleness in any person,
Out of himself?

Cham. My lords, you 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 the king, never attempt
Any thing on him; for he hath a witchcraft
Over the king in his tongue.

Nor. O, fear him not;

His spell in that is out: the king hath found Matter against him, that for ever mars

The honey of his language. No, he's settled, Not to come off, in his displeasure.

Sur. Sir,

Sur. 'Would he had!

[lord!

Suf. May you be happy in your wish, my For, I profess, you have it. Sur. Now all my joy Trace the conjunction! Suf. My amen to't! Nor. All men's.

Suf. There's order given for her coronation:
Marry, this is yet but young, and may be left
To some ears unrecounted.-But, my lords,
She is a gallant creature, and complete
In mind and feature: I persuade me, from her
Will fall some blessing to this land, which shall
In it be memoriz'd.

Sur. But, will the king
Digest this letter of the cardinal's?
The Lord forbid !

Nor. Marry, amen!
Suf. No, no;

There be more wasps that buz about his nose,
Will make this sting the sooner. Cardinal
Campeius

Is stolen away to Rome; hath ta'en no leave;
Has left the cause o'the king unhandled; and
Is posted, as the agent of our cardinal,
To second all his plot. I do assure you
The king cry'd, ha! at this.

Cham. Now, God incense him,
And let him cry ha, louder!
Nor. But, my lord,

When returns Cranmer?

Suf. He is return'd, in his opinions; which Have satisfied the king for his divorce, Together with all famous colleges Almost in Christendom: shortly, I believe, His second marriage shall be publish'd, and Her coronation. Katharine no more

Shall be call'd, queen; but princess dowager, And widow to prince Arthur.

Nor. This same Cranmer's

A worthy fellow, and hath ta'en much pain
In the king's business.

Suf. He has; and we shall see him
For it, an archbishop.

Nor. So I hear.

Suf. 'Tis so.

The cardinal

+ Enforce.

* Follow.

+ Made memor.dc.

Nor. He's discontented.

Suf. May be, he hears the king Does whet his anger to him. Sur. Sharp enough, Lord, for thy justice!

of

Wol. The late queen's gentlewoman; a knight's daughter,

To be her mistress mistress! the queen's
queen!-
[it;
This candle burns not clear: 'tis I must snuff
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' the bosom of
Our hard-rul'd king. Again, there is sprung
A heretic, an arch one, Cranmer; one [up
Hath crawl'd into the favour of the king,
And is his oracle.

Nor. He is vex'd at something.

Of your best graces in your mind; the which You were now running o'er; you have scares time

To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span, To keep your earthly audit: sure, in that I deem you an ill husband; and am glad To have you therein my companion.

Wol. Sir,

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

K. Hen. You have said well.

Wol. And ever may your highness yoke together,

As I will lend you cause, my doing well
With my well saying!

K. Hen. "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

fret the string,

The master-cord of his heart!

Enter the KING, reading a Schedule;* and
LOVELL.

Suf. The king, the king.

1 K. Hen. What piles of wealth hath he accumulated

[hour To his own portion! and what expense by the Seems to flow from him! How, i' the name of thrift,

Does he rake this together!-Now, my lords; Saw you the cardinal?

Nor. My lord, we have [motion Stood here observing him: Some strange comIs in his brain: he bites his lip, and starts; Stops on a sudden, looks 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.

K. Hen. It may well be;
There is a mutiny in his mind. This morning
Papers of state he sent me to peruse,
As I requir'd; And, wot‡ you, what I found
There; on my conscience, put unwittingly?
Forsooth, an inventory, thus importing,-
The several parcels of his plate, his treasure,
Rich stuffs, and ornaments of household; which
I find at such proud rate, that it out-speaks
Possession of a subject.

Nor. It's heaven's will;
Some spirit put this paper in the packet,
To bless your eye withal.

K. Hen. If we did think

His contemplation were above the earth,
And fix'd on spiritual object, he should still
Dwell in his musings: but I am afraid,
His thinkings are below the moon, not worth
His serious considering.

[He takes his seat, and whispers LOVELL,
who goes to WOLSEY.

Wol. Heaven forgive me!

Ever God bless your highness!

home,

But par'd my present havings, to bestow My bounties upon you.

Wol. What should this mean?

Sur. The Lord increase this business!

[Aside.

[me. K. Hen. Have I not made you The prime man of the state? I pray you, tell If what I now pronounce, you have found true: And, if you may confess it, say withal, If you are bound to us, or no. What say you? Wol. My sovereign, I confess, your royal

graces,

[could Shower'd on me daily, have been more, than 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 the good of your most sacred person, and The profit of the state. For your great graces Heap'd upon me, poor undeserver, I Can nothing render but allegiant thanks; My prayers to heaven for you; my loyalty, Which ever has, and ever shall be growing, Till death, that winter, kill it.

K. Hen. Fairly answer'd; A loyal and obedient subject is Therein illustrated; The honour of it Does pay the act of it; as, i' the contrary, The foulness is the punishment. I presume, That, as my hand has open'd bounty to you, My heart dropp'd love, my power rain'd hon

our, more

On you, than any; so your hand, and heart, Your brain, and every function of your power, Should, notwithstanding that your bond of As 'twere in love's particular, be more [duty, To me, your friend, than any.

Wol. I do profess.

That for yourhighness' good I ever labour'd More than mine own; that am, have, and will

be.

[to you, Though all the world should crack their duty And throw it from their soul: though perils did Abound, as thick as thought could make them, and

As doth a rock against the chiding flood, Should the approach of this wild river break, And stand unshaken yours.

Sur. I forgive him.

[him

Suf. Lord cardinal, the king's further pleasure is,

Because all those things, you have done of late
By your power legatinet within this kingdom,
Fall into the compass of a pramunire,‡—
That therefore such a writ be sued against you:
To forfeit all your goods, lands, tenements,
Chattels, and whatsoever, and to be [charge.
Out of the king's protection:-This is my
Nor. And so we'll leave you to your medi-
tations

How to live better. For your stubborn answer,
About the giving back the great seal to us,
The king shall know it, and, no doubt, shall
thank you.
So fare you well, my little good lord cardinal.
[Exeunt all but WOLSEY.
Wol. So farewell to the little good you bear

That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have;

And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,
Never to hope again.—

Enter CROMWELL, amazedly.
Why, how now, Cromwell?
Crom. I have no power to speak, Sir.
Wol. What, amaz'd

At my misfortunes? can thy spirit wonder,
A great man should decline? Nay, an you
I am fallen indeed.
[weep,

Crom. How does your grace?
Wol. Why, well;

Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell.
I know myself now; and 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 pillars, out of pity, taken
A load would sink a navy, too much honour:
O, 'tis a burden, Cromwell, 'tis a burden,
Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven.
Crom. I am glad, your grace has made that
right use of it.

Wol. I hope, I have: I am able now, me (Out of a fortitude of soul I feel,) [thinks, To endure more miseries, and greater far, Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer. What news abroad?

Crom. The heaviest, and the worst, Is your displeasure with the king. Wol. God bless him!

Crom. The next is, that Sir Thomas More is Lord chancellor in your place.

[chosen

Wol. That's somewhat sudden : But he's a learned man. May he continue Long in his highness' favour, and do justice For truth's sake, and his conscience; that his bones,

When he has run his course, and sleeps in blessings, Cem May have a tomb of orphan's tears* wept on What more?

Crom. That Cranmer is return'd with wel come,

Install'd lord archbishop of Canterbury.
Wol. That's news indeed.

Crom. Last, that 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.

Wol. 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 me, Cromwell;

him

I am a poor fallen man, unworthy now To be thy lord and master: Seek the king; That sun, I pray, may never set! I have told [thee; What, and how true thou art: he will advance 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 uset now, and provide For thine own future safety.

* The chancellor is the guardian of orphans. + Interest.