Suf. How is the king employ'd? Cham. i left him private,
Full of sad thoughts and troubles.
Nor. What's the cause?
Cham. It seems, the marriage with his brother's 5 Has crept too near his conscience. Suf. No, his conscience
Has crept too near another lady. Nor. Tis so;
This is the cardinal's doing, the king-cardinal: 10 That blind priest, like the eldest son of fortune, Turns what he lists. This king will know him
Suf. Pray God, he do! he'll never know himself [else. Nor. How holly he works in all his business! 15 And with what zeal! For, now he has crack'd the league Between us and the emperor, the queen's great nephew,
Nor. Thanks, my good lord chamberlain [Exit Lord Chambe A door opens, and discovers the King sittin reading pensively.
Suf. How sad he looks! sure, he is r afflicted.
King. Who's there? ha?
Nor. Pray God, he be not angry! King. Who's there, I say? How dare you t yourselves
Into my private meditations? Who am I? ha?
Nor. A gracious king, that pardons all offer Is business of estate; in which, we come Malice ne'er meant: our breach of duty, this w To know your royal pleasure.
He dives into the king's soul; and there scatters 20 Doubts, dangers, wringing of the conscience, Fears, and despairs, and all these for his marriage: And, out of all these to restore the king, He counsels a divorce: a loss of her, That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years About his neck, yet never lost her lustre; Of her, that loves him with that excellence That angels love good men with; even of her, That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls, Will bless the king: And is not this course pious? 30I Cham. Heaven keep me from such counsel!
'Tis most true, These news are every where; every tongue speaks ['em, And every true heart weeps for 't: All, that dare Look into these affairs, see his main end, The French king's' sister. Heaven will one day [open 35 The king's eyes, that so long have slept upon This bold bad man.
Suf. And free us from his slavery. Nor. We had need pray,
And heartily, for our deliverance; Or this imperious man will work us all
From princes into pages: all men's honours Lie like one lump before him, to be fashion'd Into what pitch he please.
I love him not, nor fear him; there's my creed:
As I am made without him, so I'll stand,
If the king please; his curses and his blessings
Go to; I'll make ye know your times of busin King. You are too bold: Enter Wolsey, and Campeius with a Commiss Is this an hour for temporal affairs? ha? Who's there? my good lord cardinal?————O Wolsey,
The quiet of my wounded conscience, Thou art a cure fit for a king,-You're welcom Most learned reverend sir, into our kingdom; [To Campei Use us, and it :-My good lord, have great c I be not found a talker. would, your grace would give us but an hou Wol. Sir, you cannot. [To Wols private conference.
King. We are busy; go. Nor. This priest has no pride in him? Suf. Not to speak of;
I would not be so sick though, for his place:
But this cannot continue.
Nor. If it do,
I'll venture one heave at him.
40 Suf. I another. [Exeunt Norf. and Suf. Wol. Your grace has given a precedent wisdom
Above all princes, in committing freely. Your scruple to the voice of Christendom: 45 Who can be angry now? what envy reach you The Spaniard, ty'd by blood and favour to her, Must now confess, if he have any goodness, The trial just and noble. All the clerks, I mean, the learned ones, in christian kingdoms
Touch me alike, they are breath I not believe in. 50 Have their free voices: Rome, the nurse of judge
I knew him, and I know him; so I leave him
To him that made him proud,-the popc.
And, with some other business, put the king
Invited by your noble self, hath sent
One general tongue unto us, this good man, This just and learned priest, cardinal Campeius;
From these sad thoughts, that work too much 55 Whom, once more, I present unto your highness.
2 Meaning, that the cardinal
Cardinal of York, are join'd with me their servant, In the unpartial judging of this business, King. Two equal men. The queen shall be acquainted [diner? Forthwith, for what you come:- :-Where's Gar- Wol. I know, your majesty has always lov'd 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. Ay, and the best, she shall have; and my favour
She never knew harm-doing; 5 So many courses of the sun e Still growing in a majesty and To leave is a thousand-fold m Tis sweet at first to acquire,To give her the avaunt it is Would move a monster.
To him that does best, God forbid else. Cardinal, 15 Pr'ythee, call Gardiner to me, my new secretary ;] I find him a fit fellow.
Cardinal goes out, and re-enters with Gardiner. Wol. Give me your hand: much joy and favour You are the king's now.
Gard. But to be commanded For ever by your grace, whose hand has raised [Aside.
King.Comehither, Gardiner. [Walksandwhispers. Cam. My lord of York, was not one doctor Pace 25 In this man's place before him? Wol. Yes, he was.
Cam. Was he not held a learned man? Wol. Yes, surely.
Cam. Believe me, there's an ill opinion spread 30 Even of yourself, lord cardinal. Wol. How! of me?
Cam. They will not stick to say, you envy'd And, fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous, Kept him a foreign man still; which so griev'd 35 That he ran mad, and dy'd.
Wol. Heaven's peace be with him! That's christian care enough for living murmurers, There's places of rebuke. He was a fool;
For he would needs be virtuous: that good fellow, 40 If I command him, follows my appointment; I will have none so near else. Learn this, brother, We live not to be grip'd by meaner persons. King. Deliver this with modesty to the queen. [Exit Gardiner The most convenient place that I can think of, For such receipt of learning, is Black-friars; There ye shall meet about this weighty business:- My Wolsey, see it furnish'd.-O my lord, Would it not grieve an able man, to leave Sosweeta bedfellow?but,conscience, conscience,--| O,'tis a tender place, and I must leave her. [Exeunt. SCENE III.
An Antichamber of the Queen's Apartments. Enter Anne Bullen, and an old Lady. Anne. Not for that neither;-Here's the pang
Old L. Hearts of most hard Melt and lament for her.
Anne. O, God's will! much She ne'er had known pomp: the Yet, if that quarrel, fortune, It from the bearer, 'tis a suffer As soul and body's severing. Old L. Alas, poor lady! She's stranger now again *. Anne. So much the more Must pity drop upon her. Vo swear, 'tis better to be lowly And range with humble livers i Than to be perk'd up in a glist And wear a golden sorrow, Old L. Our content, Is our best having".
Anne. By my troth, and mai would not be a queen.
Old L. Beshrew me, I would, And venture maidenhead for't; For all this spice of your hypoc You, that have so fair parts of y Have too a woman's heart; whi Affected eminence, wealth, sov Which, to say sooth, are bless (Saving your mincing) the capa Of your soft cheveril conscienc If you might please to stretch it. Anne. Nay, good troth.- Old L. Yes, troth and troth,- Anne. No, not for all the rich Old L. 'Tis strange; a three-per hire me, Old, as I am, to queen it: but, I What think you of a dutchess? h To bear that load of title:
Anne. No, in truth.
Old L. Then you are weakly n 50I would not be a young count in For more than blushing comes to Cannot vouchsafe this burden, 't Ever to get a boy.
Anne, How you do talk! 55I swear again, I would not be a d For all the world.
Old L. In faith, for little Engla
1i. e. kept him out of the king's presence, by employing him in foreign embassies, her away contemptuously. Dr. Warburton says, 66 she calls fortune a quarrel or a striking so deep and suddenly. Quarrel was large arrow so called."-Dr, Joh thinks the poet may be easily supposed to use quarrel for quarreller, as murder for mu for the agent. í. e. she is again an alien; not only no longer queen, but no long woman. i. e. our best possession. • Cheveril, kid-skin, soft leather, i. e. still lower, and more upon a level with your own quality.
Anne. Now I pray God, Amen! Cham. You bear a gentle mind, and heavenly Follow such creatures. That you may, fair lady, Perceive I speak sincerely, and high notes Ta'en of your many virtues, the king's majesty Commends his good opinion to you, and Does purpose honour to you no less flowing Than marchioness of Pembroke; to which title A thousand pounds a year, annual support, Out of his grace he adds.
What kind of my obedience I should tender: lore than my all is nothing: nor my prayers Are not words duly hallow'd, nor my wishes More worth than empty vanities; yet prayers, and wishes,
Are all I can return. 'Beseech your lordship, Vouchsafe to speak my thanks, and my obedience, As from a blushing handinaid, to his highness; Whose health, and royalty, I pray for.
I shall not fail to approve the fair conceit The king hath of you.-I have perus'd her well; Beauty and honour in her are so mingled, [Aside. That they have caught the king: and who knows
A thousand pounds a year! for pure respect; No other obligation: by my life,
That promises more thousands: honour's train Is longer than his fore-skirt. By this time, I know, your back will bear a dutchess;—say, Are you not stronger than you were? Anne. Good lady,
Make yourself mirth with your particular fancy, And leave me out on't. 'Would I had no being If this salute my blood a jot; it faints me, To think what follows.
The queen is comfortless, and we forgetful 25 In our long absence: pray, do not deliver What here you have heard, to her. Old L. What do you think me?
A Hall in Black-Fryars. Trumpets, Sennet, and Cornets. Enter two Vergers, with short Silver Wands; next them, two Scribes, in the hahits of Doctors; after them, the Archbishop of Canterbury alone; after him, the Bishops of Lincoln, Ely, Rochester, and Saint Asaph; next them, with some small distance, follows a Gentleman bearing the Purse, with the Great Seal, and a Cardinal's Hat; then two Priests, bearing each a Silver Cross; then a Gentleman-usher bareheaded, accompanied with a Serjeant at Arms, bearing a Silver Mace; then two Gentlemen, bear ing two great Silver Pillars'; after them, side by side, the two Cardinals; two Noblemen with the Sword and Mace. 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 side the Court, in manner of a Consistory; below them, the Scribes. The Lords sit next the
The meaning, according to Dr. Johnson, is, "You would venture to be distinguished by the ball, the ensign of royalty.' Mr. Toilet, however, says, " Dr. Johnson's explanation cannot be right, because a queen-consort, such as Anne Bullen was, is not distinguished by the ball, the ensign of royalty, nor has the poet expressed that she was so distinguished." 2 From this and many other artful strokes of address, the poet has thrown in upon queen Elizabeth and her mother, it should seem, that this play was written and performed in his royal mistress's time; if so, some lines were added by him in the last scene, after the accession of her successor, king James. 3 Mr. Steevens on this passage remarks," Forty pence was in those days the proverbial expression of a small wager, or a small sum. Money was then reckoned by pounds, marks, and nobles. Forty pence is half a noble, or the sixth part of a pound. Forty pence, or three and four pence, still remains in many offices the legal and established fee." Dr. Burney in his General History of Music conjectures, that sennet may mean a flourish for the purpose of assembling chiefs, or apprizing the people of their approach. Mr. Steevens adds, that he has been informed that seneste is the name of an antiquated French tune. › Pillars were some of the ensigns of dignity carried before cardinals. Wolsey had two great silver pillars isually borne before him by two of the tallest priests that he could get within the realm. This remarkable piece of pageantry did not escape the notice of Shakspeare,
Let silence be commanded.
King. What's the need?
It hath already publicly been read, And on all sides the authority allow'd; You may then spare that time.
Your pleasure be fulfill'd! Wol. You have here, lady, (And of your choice) these rev Of singular integrity and learn Yea, the elect of the land, wh To plead your cause: It shall be
Scribe. Say, Henry king of England, come into 10 That longer you defer the cov
Crier. Henry king of England, &c. King. Here.
Scribe. Say, Katharine queen of England, come
Crier. Katharine, queen of England, &c. [The Queen makes no answer, rises out of her chair, goes about the Court, comes to the King, and kneels at his feet; then speaks.]
For your own quiet, as to recu What is unsettled in the king.
Cam. His grace
Hath spoken well, and justly: 7 15 It's fit this royal session do pro And that, without delay, their Be now produc'd, and heard. Queen. Lord cardinal,- To you I speak.
Wol. Your pleasure, madam Queen. Sir,
I am about to weep; but, think We are a queen, (or long have di The daughter of a king, my dro 25 I'll turn to sparks of fire.
Queen. Sir, I desire you, do me right and justice; 20 And to bestow your pity on me: for I am a most poor woman, and a stranger, Born out of your dominions: having here No judge indifferent, nor no more assurance Of equal friendship and proceeding. Alas, sir, 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 wit- I have been to you a true and humble wife, [ness, 30 At all times to your will conformable: Ever in fear to kindle your dislike,
Yea, subject 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 love, although I knew He were mine enemy? what friend of mine, That had to him deriv'd your anger, did I Continue in my liking? nay, gave not notice He was from thence discharg'd? Sir, call to mind, That I have been your wife, in this obedience, Upwards of twenty years, and have been blest With many children by you: If, in the course And process of this time, you can report, And prove it too, against mine honour aught, My bond to wedlock, or my love and duty Against your sacred person, in God's name, Turn me away; and let the foul'st contempt Shut door upon me, and so give me up To the sharpest kind of justice. Please you, sir, The king, your father, was reputed for A prince most prudent, of an excellent And unmatch'd wit and judgement: Ferdinand, My father, king of Spain, was 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 realm, that did debate this business, Who deem'd our marriage lawful; Wherefore 160 humbly
Wol. Be patient yet.
Queen. I will, when you are 1 Or God will punish me. I do Induc'd by potent circumstance You are mine enemy; and mak You shall not be my judge: for Have blown this coal betwixt m Which God's dew quench!- I utterly abhor, yea, from my so Refuse you for my judge; whom I hold my most malicious foe, a At all a friend to truth.
Wol. I do profess,
You speak not like yourself; wh 40 Have stood to charity, and disp Of disposition gentle, and of wis O'er-topping woman's power. M I have no spleen against you; n For you, or any: how far I have 45 Or how far further shall, is warra By a commission from the consist Yea, the whole consistory of Ro That I have blown this coal: I do The king is present: If it be kno 50That I gainsay my deed, how n And worthily, my falsehood? ye As you have done my truth. If That I am free of your report, he I am not of your wrong. Theref 55 It lies, to cure me; and the cure is Remove these thoughts from y His highness shall speak in, I do l You, gracious madam, to unthink And to say so no more.
Queen. My lord, my lord, I am a simple woman, much too
Challenge is here a verbum juris, a law term. The criminal, when he refuses a ju challenge him,
To oppose your cunning. You are meek, and humble-mouth'd;
You sign your place and calling, in full seeming, With meekness and humility: but your heart Is cramm'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride. You have, by fortune, and his highness' favours, Goneslightly o'er low steps; andnoware mounted, Where powers are your retamers: and your words, Domestics to you, serve 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 all, appeal unto the Pope, To bring my whole cause 'fore his holiness, And to be judg'd by him,
[She curt'sies to the King, and offers to depart. Cam. The queen is obstinate, Stubborn to justice, apt to accuse it, and Disdainful to be try'd by it; 'tis not well. She's going away.
[the court. Crier. Katharine, queen of England, come into Usher. Madam, you are call’u back. Queen. What need you note it? pray you, keep
When you are call'd, return.-Now the Lord help, They vex me past my patience!-pray you, pass I will not tarry; no, nor ever more, Upon this business, my appearance make In any of their courts.
[Exeunt Queen and her Attendants.
King. Go thy ways, Kate: That man i' the world, who shall report he has A better wife, let him in nought be trusted, For speaking false in that: Thou art, alone, (If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness, Thy meekness saint-like,wife-like government,- Obeying in commanding,-and thy parts Sovereign and pious else, could speak thee out 1) The queen of earthly queens:-She is noble born; And like her true nobility, she has Carried herself towards me.
Or touch of her good person? King. My lord cardinal,
I do excuse you; yea, upon mine honour, I free you from 't. You are not to be taugh That you have many enemies, that know no Why they are so, but, like to village curs, Bark when their fellows do: by some of the The queen is put in anger. You are excus' But will 10 Have wish'd the sleeping of this business; ne you be more justified? you ever Desir'd it to be stirr'd: but oft have hindred, The passages made toward it:-' on my hon I speak my good lord cardinal to this point, And thus far clear him. Now, what mov'd 15 to 't,-
I will be bold with time, and your attention Then mark the inducement. Thus it came give heed to 't:
My conscience first receiv'd a tenderness, 20 >cruple, and prick", on certain speeches utt By the bishop of Bayonne, then French amba Who had been hither sent on the debating [ A marriage, 'twixt the duke of Orleans and Our daughterMary: I' the progress of this busin 25 Ere a determinate resolution, he
(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 dowag 30 Sometime our brother's wife. This respite sh The bosom of my conscience, enter'd me, Yea, with a splitting power, and made to trem The region of my breast; which fore'd such v That 35 And press'd in with this caution. First,methoug many maz'd considerings did throng, I stood not in the smile of heaven; who had Commanded nature, that my lady's womb, If it conceiv'd a male child by me, should Do no more offices of life to 't, than 40 The grave does to the dead: for her male-iss Or died where they were made, or shortly at This world had air'd them: Hence I took a thou This was a judgement on me; that my kingdo Well worthy the best heir o'the world, should 45 Be gladded in't by me: Then follows, that
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'd; although not there At once and fully satisfied *) whether ever I Did broach this business to your highness; or Lay'd any scruple in your way, which might Induce you to the question on't? or ever Have to you, but with thanks to God for such A royal lady, spake one the least word, thatmnight 55 Be to the prejudice of her present state,
weigh'd the danger which my realms stood By this my issue's fail; and that gave to me Many a groaning throe. Thus hulling' in The wild sea of my conscience, I did steer 50 Toward this remedy, whereupon we are Now present here together; that's to say, I meant to rectify my conscience,-which I then did feel full sick, and yet not well,— And doctors learn'd.-First, I began in privat By all the reverend fathers of the land, With you, my lord of Lincoln; you rememb
2 That is, Having now got power, you do not regard your wo i. e. if thy several qualities could speak thy praise. innocence, as to clear up my character, though I do not expect my wrongers will do me justic The sense is, "I owe so much to my o • The king, having first addressed Wolsey, breaks off; and declares upon his honour to the who court, that he speaks the candinal's contine
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