The vision. Enter, solemnly tripping one after another, six personages, clad in white robes, wearing on their heads garlands of bays, and golden vizards on their faces; branches of bays, or palm, in their hands. They first congee unto her, then dance; and, at certain changes, the first two hold a spare garland over her head; ut which, the other four make reverent court'sies; then the two that held the garland, deliver the same to the other next two, who observe the same order in their changes, and holding the garland over her head: which done, they deliver the sume garland to the last two, who likewise observe the same order: at which (as it were by inspiration), she makes in her sleep signs of rejoicing, and holdeth up her hands to heaven: and so in their dancing they vanish, carrying the garland with them. The musick continues. Kath. Spirits of peace, where are ye? Are ye all gone? And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye? It is not you I call for: None, madam. Saw ye none enter, since I slept? Grif. Kath. No? Saw you not, even now, a blessed troop Invite me to a banquet; whose bright faces Cast thousand beams upon me, like the sun? They promis'd me eternal happiness; And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel Assuredly. Grif. I am most joyful, madam, such good dreams Possess your fancy. Kath. Bid the musick leave, [Musick ceases. Do you note, They are harsh and heavy to me. Pat. How much her grace is alter'd on the sudden? Pat. Heaven comfort her! Enter a Messenger. Mess. An't like your grace,— Kath. You are a saucy fellow: Deserve we no more reverence? Mess. I humbly do entreat your highness' pardon; Let me ne'er see again. [Exeunt Griffith and Messenger. Re-enter Griffith, with Capucius. If my sight fail not, You should be lord ambassador from the emperor, My royal nephew, and your name Capucius. Cap. Madam, the same, your servant. Kath. O my lord, The times, and titles, now are alter'd strangely With me, since first you knew me. But, I pray you, What is your pleasure with me? -Cap. Noble lady, First, mine own service to your grace; the next, Who grieves much for your weakness, and by me And heartily entreats you take good comfort. late; 'Tis like a pardon after execution: That gentle physick, given in time, had cur'd me; But now I am past all comforts here, but prayers. How does his highness? Cap. Madam, in good health. Kath. So may he ever do! and ever flourish, When I shall dwell with worms, and my poor name Banish'd the kingdom!-Patience, is that letter, I caus'd you write, yet sent away? · Pat. No, madam. [Giving it to Katharine. Kath. Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliverThis to my lord the king. Cap. Most willing, madam. Kath. In which I have commended to his good ness The model of our chaste loves, his young daughtert: The dews of heaven fall thick in blessings on her!- A right good husband, let him bet a noble ; them. The last is, for my men:-they are the poorest, * Image. + Afterwards Queen Mary. And something over to remember me by ; If Heaven had pleas'd to have given me longer life, And able means, we had not parted thus. These are the whole contents:-And, good my lord, By that you love the dearest in this world, As you wish Christian peace to souls departed, Stand these poor people's friend, and urge the king To do me this last right. Cap. By heaven, I will; Or let me lose the fashion of a man! Kath. I thank you, honest 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, [Exeunt, leading Katharine, ACT V. SCENE I. A gallery in the palace. Enter Gardiner bishop of Winchester; a Page with a torch before him, met by Sir Thomas Lovell. Gar. It's one o'clock, boy, is't not? Boy. It hath struck. Gar. These should be hours for necessities, Not for delights; times to repair our nature To waste these times.-Good hour of night, sir Tho mas! Whither so late? Lov. Came you from the king, my lord? Gar. I did, sir Thomas; and left him at primero With the duke of Suffolk. Lov. I must to him, too, Before he go to bed. I'll take my leave. Gar. Not yet, sir Thomas Lovell. What's the matter? It seems, you are in baste: an if there be No great offence belongs to't, give your friend In them a wilder nature, than the business Lov. My lord, I love you ; And durst commend a secret to your ear Much weightier than this work. The queen's in la. bour, They say, in great extremity; and fear'd, She'll with the labour end. Gar. The fruit, she goes with, I pray for heartily; that it may find Good time, and live: but for the stock, sir Thomas, I wish it grubb'd up now. Lov. Methinks, I could Cry the amen; and yet my conscience says, Gar. But, sir, sir, Hear me, sir Thomas: You are a gentleman *A game at cards. + Hint. |