-

Speak, how I fell! — I have done; and God forgive me!
[Exeunt Buckingham and Train.

1 Gent. O, this is full of pity!-- Sir, it calls,
I fear, too many curses on their heads,
That were the authors.

But those, that sought it, I could wish more christians. And when you would say something, that is sad,
Be what they will, I heartily forgive them:
Yet let them look, they glory not in mischief,
Nor build their evils on the graves of great men!
For then my guiltless blood must cry against them.
For further life in this world I ne'er hope,
Nor will I sue, although the king have mercies
More, than I dare make faults. You few, that lov'd me,
And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham,
His noble friends, and fellows, whom to leave
Is only bitter to him, only dying,

Go with me, like good angels, to my end;
And, as the long divorce of steel falls on me,
Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice,

And lift my soul to heaven! - Leadon, o'God's name!
Lov. I do beseech your grace, for charity,
If ever any malice in your heart

Were hid against me, now to forgive me frankly.
Buck. Sir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive you,
As I would be forgiven: I forgive all ;
There cannot be those numberless offences
'Gainst me, I can't take peace with: no black envy
Shall make my grave.
Commend me to his grace
And, if he speak of Buckingham, pray, tell him,
You met him half in heaven: my vows and prayers
Yet are the king's; and, till my soul forsake me,
Shall cry for blessings on him. May he live
Longer, than I have time to tell his years!
Ever belov'd, and loving, may his rule be!
And, when old time shall lead him to his end,
Goodness and he fill up one monument!

Lov. To the water side I must conduct your grace;
Then give my charge up to sir Nicholas Vaux,
Who undertakes you to your end.

Vaux. Prepare there,

The duke is coming: see, the barge be ready,
And fit it with such furniture, as suits
The greatness of his person!

Buck. Nay, sir Nicholas,

2 Gent. If the duke be guiltless,
'Tis full of woe: yet I can give you inkling
Of an ensuing evil, if it fall,
Greater than this,

1 Gent. Good angels keep it from us!
Where may it be? You do not doubt my faith, sir?
2 Gent. This secret is so weighty, 'twill require
A strong faith to conceal it.

1 Gent. Let me have it!

I do not talk much.

2 Gent. I am confident,

You shall, sir. Did you not of late days hear
A bucing of a separation

Between the king and Catharine?
1 Gent. Yes, but it held not:
For when the king once heard it, out of anger
He sent command to the lord mayor, straight
To stop the rumour, and allay those tongues,
That durst disperse it.

Let it alone! my state now will but mock me.
When I came hither, I was lord high constable
And duke of Buckingham; now, poor Edward Bohun:
Yet I am richer, than my base accusers,
That never knew, what truth meant I now seal it:
And with that blood will make them one day groan for't.
My noble father, Henry of Buckingham,
Who first rais'd head against usurping Richard,
Flying for succour to his servant Banister,
Being distress'd, was by that wretch betray'd,
And without trial fell; God's peace be with him!
Henry the seventh succeeding, truly pitying
My father's loss, like a most royal prince,
Restor'd me to my houours, and, out of ruins,
Made my name once more noble. Now his son,
Henry the eighth, life, honour, name, and all
That made me happy, at one stroke has taken
For ever from the world. I had my trial,

2 Gent. But that slander, sir,

Is found a truth now: for it grows again
Fresher, than e'er it was, and held for certain,
The king will venture at it. Either the cardinal,
Or some about him uear, have, out of malice
To the good queen, possess'd him with a scruple,
That will undo her: to confirm this too,
Cardinal Campeius is arriv'd, and lately;
As all think, for his business.
1 Gent. 'Tis the cardinal;
And merely to revenge him on the emperor,
For not bestowing on him, at his asking,
The archbishoprick of Toledo, this is purpos'd.
2 Gent. I think, you have hit the mark: but is't
not cruel,

That she should feel the smart of this? The cardinal
Will have his will, and she must fall.
1 Gent. 'Tis woful.

We are too open here to argue this;
Let's think in private more!

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. - An antechambre in the palace. Enter the Lord Chamberlain, reading a letter. Cham. My lord, The horses your lordship sent for, with all the care I had, I saw well chosen,ridden, and furnish'd. They were young, and handsome, and of the best breed in the north. When they were ready to set out for London, a man of my lord cardi nal's, by commission, and main power, took 'em from me, with this reason, his master would be served before a subject, if not before the king: which stopped our mouths, sir.

And, must needs say, a noble one; which makes me I fear, he will, indeed! Well, let him have them!

Fell by our servants, by those men, we lov'd most;
A most unnatural and faithless service!
Heaven has an end in all. Yet you that hear me,
This from a dying man receive as certain:
Where you are liberal of your loves, and counsels,
Be sure, you be not loose; for those you make friends,
And give your hearts to, when they once perceive
The least rub in your fortunes, fall away
Like water from ye, never found again

But where they mean to sink ye. All good people,
Pray for me! I must now forsake ye; the last hour
Of my long weary life is come upon me.
Farewell!

He will have all, I think.

Enter the Dukes of NORFOLK and SUFFOLE. Nor. Well met, my good

Lord chamberlain!

T

T

T

B

H

D

K. Hen. Who's there, I say? How dare you thrust You are the king's now. yourselves

Gard. But to be commanded

For ever by your grace, whose hand has rais'd me.

K. Hen. Come hither, Gardiner!

Kept him a foreign man still; which so griev'd him,
That he ran mad and died.

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,
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.
K. Hen. 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

I would not be a young count in your way,
For more than blushing comes to: if your back
Cannot vouchsafe this burden, 'tis too weak
Ever to get a boy.

Anne. How do you talk!

I swear again, I would not be a queen
For all the world.

Old L. In faith, for little England
You'd venture an emballing: I myself
Would for Carnarvonshire, although there 'long'd
No more to the crown but that. Lo! who comes here?
Enter the Lord Chamberlain.

Cham. Good morrow, ladies! What wer't worth to
know

The secret of your conference?
Anne. My good lord,

Our mistress' sorrows we were pitying.

So sweet a bedfellow? But,conscience, conscience,-Not your demand; it values not your asking:
O, 'tis a tender place, and I must leave her! [Exeunt.
S ENE III. An antechamber in the Queen's
apartments.

Enter ANNE BULLEN, and an old Lady.
Anne. Not for that neither; here's the pang that
pinches:

His highness having lived so long with her; and she
So good a lady, that no tongue could ever
Pronounce dishonour of her,- by my life,
She never knew harm-doing; O now, after
So many courses of the sun enthron'd,
Still growing in a majesty and pomp,

the which

To leave is a thousand-fold more bitter, than
"Tis sweet at first to acquire, after this process,
To give her the avaunt! it is a pity
Would move a monster.

Old L. Hearts of most hard temper
Melt and lament for her.

Anne. O, God's will! much better,

She ne'er had known pomp: though it be temporal,
Yet, if that quarrel, fortune, do divorce

It from the bearer, 'tis a sufferance, panging
As soul and body's severing.

Old L. Alas, poor lady!
She's a stranger now again.
Anne. So much the more

Must pity drop upon her. Verily,

I swear, 'tis better to be lowly born,
And range with humble livers in content,

Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief,
And wear a golden sorrow.

Old L. Our content

Is our best having.

Anne. By my troth, and maidenhead,

I would not be a queen.

Old L. Beshrew me, would,

Cham. It was a gentle business, and becoming
The action of good women: there is hope,
All will be well.

And venture maidenhead for't; and so would you,
For all this spice of your hypocrisy:

Anne. Now I pray God, amen!

Cham. You bear a gentle mind, and heavenly bles-
.sings

Follow such creatures. That you may, fair lady,
Perceive I speak sincerely, and high note's
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 pound a-year, annual support,
Out of his grace he adds.

You, that have so fair parts of woman on you,
Have too a woman's heart; which ever yet
Affected eminence, wealth, sovereignty;
Which, to say sooth, are blessings: and which gifts
(Saving your mincing) the capacity

Of your soft cheveril conscience would receive,
If you might please to stretch it.

Anne. Nay, good troth,

Anne. I do not know,

What kind of my obedience I should tender;
More 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,

Old L. Yes, troth, and troth, - You would not be
a queen?

Anne. No, not for all the riches under heaven.
Old L. 'Tis strange; a three-pence bowed would
hire me,

Old as I am, to queen it: but, I pray you,
What think you of a dutchess? have you limbs
To bear that load of title?

Anne. No, in truth.

Are all I can return. 'Beseech your lordship,
Vouchsafe to speak my thanks, and my obedience,
As from a blushing handmaid, to his highness;
Whose health, and royalty, I pray for.

Cham. Lady,

I shall not fail to approve the fair conceit
The king hath of you.-I have perus'd her well.

[Aside.

Beauty and honour in her are so mingled,
That they have caught the king: and who knows yet,
But from this lady may proceed a gem,
To lighten all this isle? I'll to the king,
And say, I spoke with you.

Anne. My honour'd lord! [Exit Lord Chamberlain,
Old L. Why, this it is; see, see!

I have been begging sixteen years in court,
(Am yet a courtier beggarly,) nor could
Come pat betwixt too early and too late,
For

any suit of pounds: and you, (0 fate!)
A very freshfish here, (fye, fye upon

This compell'd fortune!) have your mouth fill'd up,
Before you open it.

Anne. This is strange to me.

no.

Old L. How tastes it? is it bitter? forty pence,
There was a lady once, ('tis an old story,)
That would not be a queen, that would she not,
For all the mud in Egypt: have you heard it?
Anne. Come, you are pleasant.
Old L. With your theme, I could
O'ermount the lark. The marchioness of Pembroke!
A thousand pounds a-year! for pure respect;
No other obligation: by my life,
That promises more thousands. Honours train
Is longer than his foreskirt. By this time,

Old L. Then you are weakly made: pluck off a little; I know, your back will bear a dutchess; — say,

A

N

A

T

1 I

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
In our long absence. Pray, do not deliver
What here you have heard, to her.
Old L. What do you think me?

That I have been your wife, in this obedience, Upward 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 [Exeunt. To the sharpest kind of justice. Please you, sir! The king, your father, was reputed for SCENE IV. A hall in Black-Friars. A prince most prudent, of an excellent Trumpets, sennet, and cornets. Enter two Vergers, And unmatch'd wit and judgment: Ferdinand, with short silver wands; next them, two Scribes, in My father, king of Spain, was reckon'd one the habits of doctors; after them, the Archbishop The wisest prince, that there had reign'd by many of CANTERBURY alone; after him, the Bishops of LIN- A year before. It is not to be question'd, COLN, ELY, ROCHESTER, and SAINT ASAPH; next them, That they had gather'd a wise council to them with some small distance, follows a Gentleman, Of every realm, that did debate this business, bearing the purse, with the great seal, and a car- Who deem'd our marriage lawful. Wherefore I dinal's hat; then two Priests, bearing each a sil- humbly ver cross; then a Gentleman-Usher bare-headed, Beseech you, sir, to spare me, till I may accompanied with a Sergeant at Arms, bearing a Be by my friends in Spain advis'd; whose counsel silver mace; then two Gentlemen, bearing two great I will implore: if not, i'the name of God, silver pillars; after them, side by side, the two Your pleasure be fulfill'd! Cardinals WOLSEY and CAMPEIUS; two Noblemen Wol. You have here, lady, with the sword and mace. Then enter the King and (And of your choice,) these reverend fathers; men Queen, and their Trains. The King takes place un- Of singular integrity and learning,

der the cloth of state; the two Cardinals sit under Yea, the elect of the land, who are assembled him as judges. The Queen takes place at some dis- To plead your cause: it shall be therefore bootless, tance from the King. The Bishops place themselves That longer you desire the court; as well on each side the court, in manner of a consistory; For your own quiet, as to rectify between them the Scribes. The Lords sit next the What is unsettled in the king. Bishops. The Crier and the rest of the Attendants Cam. His grace stand in convenient order about the stage. Wol. Whilst our commission from Rome is read, Let silence be commanded.

K. Hen. What's the need?

It hath already publicly been read,

And on all sides the authority allow'd;

You may then spare that time.

Wol. Be't so. - Proceed!

Hath spoken well, and justly: 'therefore, madam,
It's fit this royal session do proceed;
And that, without delay, their arguments
Be now produc'd, and heard.

Q. Cath. Lord cardinal,

To you I speak.

Wol. Your pleasure, madam?
Q. Cath. Sir!

Scribe. Say, Henry king of England, come into the I am about to weep; but, thinking that

court.

Crier. Henry king of England, etc.

K. Hen. Here,

Scribe. Say, Catharine queen of England, come into

court.

Crier. Catharine, queen of England, etc.
[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.]

Q. Cath. Sir, I desire you, do me right and justice;
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 witness,
I have been to you a true and humble wife,
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 notice
He was from thence discharg'd? Sir, call to mind,

We are a queen, (or long have dream'd so,) certain,
The daughter of a king, my drops of tears
I'll turn to sparks of fire.
Wol. Be patient yet!

Q. Cath. I will, when you are humble; nay, before,
Or God will punish me. I do believe,
Induc'd by potent circumstances, that
You are mine enemy; and make my challenge,
You shall not be my judge; for it is you
Have blown this coal betwixt my lord and me,-
Which God's dew quench! Therefore, I say again,
I utterly abhor, yea, from my soul,

Refuse you for my judge; whom, yet once more,
I hold my most malicious foe, and think not
At all a friend to truth.

Wol. 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. But, 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
Remove these thoughts from you: the which before
His highness shall speak in, I do beseech
You, gracious madam! to unthink your speaking,
And to say so no more.

Q. Cath. My lord, my lord!

I am a simple woman, much too weak

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,
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.

Ca

TH

C

The queen is put in anger. You are excus'd:
But will you be more justified? you ever
Have wish'd the sleeping of this business; never
Desir'd 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

[She court'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't; 'tis not well.
She's going away.

K. Hen. Call her again.

heed to't:

My conscience first receiv'd a tenderness,
Scruple, an prick, on certain speeches utter'd
By the bishop of Bayonne, then French ambassador;
Who had been hither sent on the debating
A marriage, 'twixt the duke of Orleans and
Our daughter Mary. I'the progress of this business,
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 respite shook
The bosom of my conscience, enter'd me,
Yea, with a splitting power, and made to tremble
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, methought,
I stood not in the smile of heaven; who had
Commanded nature, that my lady's womb,
If not conceiv'd a male child by me, should
Do no more offices of life to't, than

Crier. Catharine queen of England, come into the The grave does to the dead: for her male issue

court!

Grif. Madam, you are call'd back!

Q. Cath. What need you note it? pray you, keep

your way:

Or died where they were made, or shortly after
This world had air'd them. 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
At-Toward this remedy, whereupon we are

When you are call'd, return. — Now the Lord help,
They vex me 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, GRIFFITH, and her other

tendants.

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 is noble born;
And, like her true nobility, she has
Carried herself towards me.

Wol. 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'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
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, 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

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 1 did reek,
When I first mov'd you.

Lin. Very well, my liege!

K. Hen. I have spoke long; be pleas'd yourself