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Remove these thoughts from you: the which

Turn me away; and let the foul'st contempt
Shut door upon me, and so give me up
To the sharp'st 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 judgment: 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
I humbly

His highness shall speak in, I do beseech
You, gracious madam, to unthink your speaking,
And to say so no more.
Q. Kath.
My lord, my lord,
I am a simple woman, much too weak
To oppose your cunning. You're meek and



Beseech you, sir, to spare me, till I may
Be by my friends in Spain advis'd, whose counsel
I will implore: if not, i' the name of God,
Your pleasure be fulfill'd!

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I do profess
You speak not like yourself; who ever yet
Have stood to charity, and display'd the effects
Of disposition gentle, and of wisdom
O'ertopping woman's power. Madam, you do

me wrong:


I have no spleen against you; nor injustice
For you or any: how far I have proceeded,
Or how far further shall, is warranted
By a commission from the consistory,
Yea, the 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 deed, how may he wound,
And worthily, my falsehood; yea, as much
As you have done my truth. If he know
That I am free of your report, he knows
I am not of your wrong. Therefore in him
It lies to cure me; and the cure is, to


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,
Gone slightly o'er low steps, and now are mounted
Where powers are your retainers, 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 court'sies to the KING, and offers to depart. The queen is obstinate, Stubborn to justice, apt to accuse it, and Disdainful to be tried by 't: 'tis not well. She's going away.

K. Hen.

Call her again.

Crier. Katharine Queen of England, come into the court.

Griffith. Madam, you are call'd back.

Q. Kath. What need you note it? pray you, keep your way:


When you are call'd, return. Now the Lord help!
They vexme past my patience. Pray you, pass on:
I will not tarry; no, nor ever more
Upon this business my appearance make
In any of their courts.


Exeunt QUEEN and her Attendants.
K. Hen.
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,
The queen of earthly queens. She's noble born;
And, like her true nobility, she has
Carried herself towards me.



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'dand bound
There must I be unloos'd, although not there
At once and fully satisfied, whether ever I 150
Did broach this business to your highness, or
Laid 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 that might
Be to the prejudice of her present state,
Or touch of her good person?

K. Hen.

My lord cardinal,
I do excuse you; yea, upon mine honour,
I free you from 't. You are not to be taught
That you have many enemies, that know not
Why they are so, but, like to village curs,


Bark when their fellows do: by some of these
The queen is put in anger. You're excus'd:
But will you be more justified? you ever
Have wish'd the sleeping of this business; never

It to be stirr'd; but oft have hinder'd, oft,
The passages made toward it. On my honour,
I speak my good lord cardinal to this point,
And thus far clear him. Now, what mov'd me 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,
Scruple, and prick, on certain speeches utter'd
By the Bishop of Bayonne, then French ambas-

Who had been hither sent on the debating
A marriage 'twixt the Duke of Orleans and
Our daughter Mary. I' the progress of this



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
The grave does to the dead; for her male issue
Or died where they were made, or shortly after
This world hadair'dthem. Hence I took a thought
This was a judgment on me; that my kingdom,
Well worthy the best heir o' the world, should 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 fail; and that gave to me
Many a groaning throe. Thus hulling in
The wild sea of my conscience, I did steer
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,
By all the reverend fathers of the land
And doctors learn'd. First, I began in private
With you, my lord of Lincoln; you remember
How under my oppression I did reek,

When I first mov'd you.

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 dowager,
Sometimes our brother's wife. This respiteshook
The bosom of my conscience, enter'd me,
Yea, with a splitting power, and made to tremble SCENE I.-The Palace at Bridewell. A Room in
The region of my breast; which forc'd such way,
That many maz'd considerings did throng,
And press'd in with this caution. First, me-

the QUEEN'S Apartment.

The QUEEN and her Women at work.

Q. Kath. Take thy lute, wench: my soul grows sad with troubles;

Sing, and disperse 'em, if thou canst. Leave working,




Very well, my liege. K. Hen. I have spoke long: be pleas'd yourself to say

How far you satisfied me.
So please your highness,
The question did at first so stagger me,
Bearing a state of mighty moment in 't,
And consequence of dread, that I committed
The daring'st counsel which I had to doubt;
And did entreat your highness to this course
Which you are running here.


K. Hen.
I then mov'd you,
My lord of Canterbury, and got your leave
To make this present summons. Unsolicited
I left no reverend person in this court;

But by particular consent proceeded
Under your hands and seals: therefore, go on;
For no dislike i' the world against the person
Of the good queen, but the sharp thorny points
Of my alleged reasons drive this forward.
Prove but our marriage lawful, by my life
And kingly dignity, we are contented
To wear our mortal state to come with her, 230
Katharine our queen, before the primest creature
That's paragon'd o' the world.

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.

K. Hen. Aside.
I may perceive
These cardinals trifle with me: I abhor
This dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome.
My learn'd and well-beloved servant, Cranmer,
Prithee, return: with thy approach, I know, 241
My comfort comes along. Break up the court:
I say, set on. Exeunt in manner as they entered.

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I would be all, against the worst may happen.
What are your pleasures with me, reverend lords?
Wol May it please you, noble madam, to

Into your private chamber, we shall give you
The full cause of our coming.

Q. Kath.

Speak it here;
There's nothing I have done yet, o'my conscience,
Deserves a corner: would all other women
Could speak this with as free a soul as I do!
My lords, I care not, so much I am happy
Above a number, if my actions

Were tried by every tongue, every eye saw 'em,
Envy and base opinion set against 'em,
I know my life so even. If your business
Seek me out, and that way I am wife in,
Out with it boldly truth loves open dealing.
Wol. Tanta est erga te mentis integritas, regina




Q. Kath. O good my lord, no Latin;
I am not such a truant since my coming,
As not to know the language I have liv'd in:
A strange tongue makes my cause more strange,

Pray, speak in English: here are some will
thank you,

If you speak truth, for their poor mistress' sake:
Believe me, she has had much wrong. Lord


The willing'st sin I ever yet committed
May be absolv'd in English.


Noble lady,
I am sorry my integrity should breed,
And service to his majesty and you,
So deep suspicion, where all faith was meant.
We come not by the way of accusation,
To taint that honour every good tongue blesses,
Nor to betray you any way to sorrow,
You have too much, good lady; but to know
How you stand minded in the weighty difference
Between the king and you; and to deliver,
Like free and honest men, our just opinions
And comforts to your cause.
Most honour'd madam,
My lord of York, out of his noble nature,
Zeal and obedience he still bore your grace,
Forgetting, like a good man, your late censure
Both of his truth and him, which was too far,
Offers, as I do, in a sign of peace,

His service and his counsel.

Or be a known friend, 'gainst his highness'

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

The cordial that ye bring a wretched lady, 50 A woman lost among ye, laugh'd at, scorn'd! I will not wish ye half my miseries,

Q. Kath. Aside.


To betray me.
My lords, I thank you both for your good wills;
Ye speak like honest men, pray God ye prove so!
But how to make ye 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:


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.


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 100
That no king can corrupt.

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 ?


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 'em, for shame, my lords. Is this your



The burden of my sorrows fall upon ye.
Wol. Madam, this is a mere distraction;
You turn the good we offer into envy.


Q. Kath. Ye turn me into nothing: woe upon ye,
And all such false professors! Would you have me,
If ye have any justice, any pity,
If ye be any thing but churchmen's habits,
Put my sick cause into his hands that hates me!
Alas! has banish'd me his bed already,
His love, too long ago. I am old, my lords, 120
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.

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


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To give up willingly that noble title
Your master wed me to: nothing but death
Shall e'er divorce my dignities.


But that you shall sustain more new disgraces
With these you bear already.
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.
Which of the peers


Have uncontemn'd gone by him, or at least 10
Strangely neglected? when did he regard
The stamp of nobleness in any person
Out of himself?


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

What will become of me now, wretched lady?
I am the most unhappy woman living.
Alas! poor wenches, where are now your for-

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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 's tongue.


O! fear him not; His spell in that is out: the king hath found 20 Matter against him that for ever mars The honey of his language. No, he's settled, Not to come off, in his displeasure.



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

Nor. Believe it, this is true: In the divorce his contrary proceedings Are all unfolded; wherein he appears As I would wish mine enemy.


How came

His practices to light?

Most strangely.

O! how? how? Suf. The cardinal's letters to the pope miscarried,


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

A creature of the queen's, Lady Anne Bullen.'
Sur. Has the king this?



Believe it. Will this work? Cham. The king in this perceives him, how he coasts

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


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

Is stol'n 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 cried Ha! at this.

Now, God incense him,
And let him cry Ha! louder.

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.



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


For it an archbishop.



The cardinal!

'Tis so.

Is in his brain: he bites his lip and starts; Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground, 70 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


Observe, observe; he's moody.
Wol. The packet, Cromwell,
Gave 't you the king?

Crom. To his own hand, in 's bedchamber.
Wol. Look'd he o' the inside of the paper?

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.


Is he ready

To come abroad?

I think by this he is.
Wol. Leave me awhile. Exit CROMWELL.
Aside. It shall be to the Duchess of Alençon,
The French king's sister: he shall marry her.
Anne Bullen! No; I'll no Anne Bullens for him:
There's more in 't than fair visage. Bullen!
No, we'll no Bullens. Speedily I wish

To hear from Rome. The Marchioness of Pem-
broke !

Nor. He's discontented.
May be he hears the king
Does whet his anger to him.

Sharp enough,

He has; and we shall see him We have seen him set himself.
K. Hen.
It may well be
So I hear.
There is a mutiny in 's mind. This morning 15
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 outspeaks
Possession of a subject.



Suf. I would 'twere something that would fret the string,

The master-cord on's heart!

Lord, for thy justice!
Wol. Aside. The late queen's gentlewoman, a
knight's daughter,

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

Enter the KING, reading a schedule; and LOVELL
The king, the king!

K. Hen. What piles of wealth hath he accu-

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

Does he rake this together? Now, my lords,
Saw you the cardinal?.

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 100
Our hard-rul'd king. Again, there is sprung up
An heretic, an arch one, Cranmer; one
Hath crawl'd into the favour of the king,
And is his oracle.


He is vex'd at something.


My lord, we have
Stood here observing him; some strange com-


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.
Heaven forgive me!
Ever God bless your highness!
K. Hen.
Good my lord,
You are full of heavenly stuff, and bear the in-


Of your best graces in your mind, the which You were now running o'er: you have scarce time

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