But, to those men that sought him, sweet as summer.
And though he were unsatisfied in getting,
(Which was a sin,) yet in bestowing, madam,
He was most princely: Ever witness for him
Those twins of learning, that he rais'd in you,
Ipswich,5 and Oxford! one of which fell with him,
Unwilling to outlive the good that did it;
The other, though unfinish'd, yet so famous,
So excellent in art, and still so rising,
That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.
His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him;
For then, and not till then, he felt himself,
And found the blessedness of being little :
And, to add greater honours to his age
Than man could give him, he died, fearing God.
KATH. After my death I wish no other herald,
No other speaker of my living actions,
To keep mine honour from corruption,

5

Ipswich,]"The foundation-stone of the College which the Cardinal founded in this place, was discovered a few years ago. It is now in the Chapter-house of Christ-Church, Oxford.” Seward's Anecdotes of distinguished Persons, &c. 1795.

6

STEEVENS.

Unwilling to outlive the good that did it;] Unwilling to survive that virtue which was the cause of its foundation: or, perhaps," the good" is licentiously used for the good man; "the virtuous prelate who founded it." So, in The Winter's Tale: " a piece many years in doing."

Mr. Pope and the subsequent editors read-the good he did it; which appears to me unintelligible. to me unintelligible. "The good he did it," was laying the foundation of the building and endowing it: if therefore we suppose the college unwilling to outlive the good he did it, we suppose it to expire instantly after its birth.

"The college unwilling to live longer than its founder, or the goodness that gave rise to it," though certainly a conceit, is sufficiently intelligible. MALONE.

Good, I believe, is put for goodness. So, in p. 159:

May it please your highness

"To hear me speak his good now?" STEEVENS.

But such an honest chronicler as Griffith.
Whom I most hated living, thou hast made me,
With thy religious truth, and modesty,

Now in his ashes honour: Peace be with him!-
Patience, be near me still; and set me lower:
I have not long to trouble thee.-Good Griffith,
Cause the musicians play me that sad note
I nam'd my knell, whilst I sit meditating
On that celestial harmony I go to.

Sad and solemn musick.

GRIF. She is asleep: Good wench, let's sit down quiet,

For fear we wake her ;-Softly, gentle Patience.

7

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; at which, the other four make reverend court'sies; then the two, that held the garland, deliver the same to the other next two, who observe the same

7

solemnly tripping one after another,] This whimsical stage-direction is exactly taken from the old copy. Steevens. Of this stage-direction I do not believe our author wrote one word. Katharine's next speech probably suggested this tripping dumb-shew to the too busy reviver of this play. MALone.

8

-golden vizards-] These tawdry disguises are also mentioned in Hall's account of a maske devised by King Henry VIII: -thei were appareled &c. with visers and cappes of golde." STEEVENS.

order in their changes, and holding the garland over her head: which done, they deliver the same 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?"

GRIF. Madam, we are here.

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
I am not worthy yet to wear: I shall,
Assuredly.

GRIF. I am most joyful, madam, such good dreams Possess your fancy.

• And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye?] Perhaps Mr. Gray had this passage in his thoughts, when he made his Bard exclaim, on a similar occasion, (the evanescence of vision, ary forms):

"Stay, O stay! nor thus forlorn

"Leave me unbless'd, unpitied, here to mourn!"

STEEVENS.

Bid the musick leave,

KATH.

They are harsh and heavy to me. [Musick ceases.
PAT.
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 you her eyes?1
GRIF. She is going, wench; pray, pray.

i

Deserve we no more reverence?

GRIF. You are to blame, Knowing, she will not lose her wonted greatness, To use so rude behaviour: go to, kneel.2

MESS. I humbly do entreat your highness' pardon; My haste made me unmannerly: There is staying A gentleman, sent from the king, to see you.

1

Mark you her eyes?] The modern editors readMark her eyes. But in the old copy, there being a stop of interrogation after this passage, as after the foregoing clauses of the speech, I have ventured to insert the pronoun-you, which at once supports the ancient pointing, and completes the meaSTEEVENS.

sure.

2

-go to, kneel.] Queen Katharine's servants, after the divorce at Dunstable, and the Pope's curse stuck up at Dunkirk, were directed to be sworn to serve her not as a Queen, but as Princess Dowager. Some refused to take the oath, and so were forced to leave her service; and as for those who took it and stayed, she would not be served by them, by which means she was almost destitute of attendants. See Hall, fol. 219. Bishop Burnet says, all the women about her still called her Queen Burnet, p. 162. REED.

KATH. Admit him entrance, Griffith: But this

fellow

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.

ΚΑΤΗ. 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, The king's request that I would visit you; Who grieves much for your weakness, and by me Sends you his princely commendations,

And heartily entreats you take good comfort. KATH. O my good lord, that comfort comes too 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.