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[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, (O fate!)
A very fresh fish here, (fie, fie upon

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

Anne.

Old L. How tastes it? is it bitter? forty pence, no.
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: Honour's train
Is longer than his foreskirt. By this time,
I know, your back will bear a duchess ;-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
In our long absence: Pray, do not deliver
What here you have heard, to her.
Old L.

What do you think me?
[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. A Hall in Blackfriars. Trumpets, Sennet, and Cornets. Enter two Vergers, with short Silver Wands; next them, two Scribes, in the Habits of Doctors; after them, the Archbishop of Canterbury alone; after him, the Bishops of Lincoln, Ely, Rochester, and St. Asaph; next them, with some small distance, follows 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 Sergeant at Arms, bearing a Silver Mace; then two Gentlemen, bearing two great Silver Pillars; after them, side by side, the two Cardinals Wolsey and Campeius: two Noblemen with the Sword and Mace. Then

The

enter the King and Queen, and their Trains. The King takes Place under the Cloth of State; the two Cardinals sit under him as Judges. Queen takes Place, at some distance from the King The Bishops place themselves on each side the Court, in manner of a Consistory; between them, the Scribes. The Lords sit next the Bishops. The Crier and the rest of the Attendants stand in convenient order about the Stage.

Wol. Whilst our commission from Rome is read, Let silence be commanded. What's the need?

K. Hen.

It bath already publicly been read,
And on all sides the authority allow'd:
You may then spare that time.

Wol.

Be't so: Proceed.

Scribe. Say, Henry, king of England, come into the court.

Crier. Henry, king of England, &c.

K. Hen. Here.

Scribe. Say, Katharine, queen of England, come

into court.

Crier. Katharine, queen of England, &c. [The Queen makes no Answer, risesout of her Chair, goes about the Court, comes to the King, and kneels at his Feet; then speaks.]

Q. Kath. 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 comformable:
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
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
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 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 hum-
Beseech you, sir, to spare me, till I may [bly
Be by my friends in Spain advis'd; whose council
I will implore: if not, i'the name of God,
Your pleasure be fulfill'd!
Wol.
You have here, lady
(And of your choice), these reverend fathers; men
Of singular integrity and learning,

Yea, the elect of the land, who are assembled
To plead your cause: It shall be therefore bootless,
For your own quiet, as to rectify
That longer you desire the court; as well
What is unsettled in the king.

Cam.

Hath spoken well, and justly: Therefore, madam,
His grace
It's fit this royal session do proceed;
And that, without delay, their arguments
Be now produc'd, and heard.
Q. Kath.
To you I speak.
Wol.

Q. Kath.

Lord cardinal,

Sir,

Your pleasure, madam? I am about to weep; but, thinking that We are a queen (or long have dream'd so), certain, I'll turn to sparks of fire. The daughter of a king, my drops of tears

Wol. Be patient yet. Or God will punish me. I do believe, Q. Kath. I will, when you are humble; nay, before, 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
I have no spleen against you nor injustice [wrong:
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. Kath.
My lord, my lord,
I am a simple woman, much too weak [mouth'd;
To oppose your cunuing. You are meek, and humble-
You sign your place and calling, in full seeming,
With meekness and humility: but your heart
Is eramm'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.

Cam.

[She courtesies to the King, and offers to depart. The queen is obstinate, Stubborn to justice, apt to accuse it, and Disdainful to be tried by it; 'tis not well. She's going away.

K. Hen.

Call her again. [court. Crier. Katharine, queen of England, come into the Grif. Madam, you are call'd back. [your way: Q. Kath. What need you note it? pray yon, keep 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 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 is noble born;
And, like her true nobility, she has
Carried herself towards me.

Wol.

Most gracious sir, In humblest manner 1 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 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'tI 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 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 fore'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

The grave does to the dead for her male issue
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 fai!; 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.

Lin.

Very well, my liege. K. Hen. I have spoke long; be pleas'd yourself to How far you satisfied me. [say

Lin.

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 bands 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, Katharine our queen, before the primest creature That's paragon'd o'the world.

K. Hen.

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

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Wol.

Enter Wolsey and Campeius.

Peace to your highness! Q. Kath. Your graces find me here part of a housewife;

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 withdraw
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 soul as I do!
My lords, I care not (so much I am happy
Above a number), if my actious

Were tried by every tongue, every eye saw them, Envy and base opinion set against them,

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 serenissima,----

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, suspicious;

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

Wol.

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.

Cam.
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 censt e
Both of his truth and him (which was too far),-
Offers, as I do, in a sign of peace,
His service and his counsel.

Q. Kath. To betray me. [Aside. My lords, I thank you both for your good wills, Ye speak like honest men, (pray God, ye prove so !) But how to make you 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 meu 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 Your hopes and friends are infinite. [lears; Q. Kath. In England, But little for my profit: Can you think, lords, That any Englishman dare give me counsel? Or be a known friend, 'gainst his highness' pleasure (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.

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Your rage mistakes us.

Q Kath. The more shame for ye; holy men I thought
Upon my soul, two reverend cardinal virtues: [ye,
But cardinal sins, and hollow hearts, I fear ye:
Mend them for shame, my lords. Is this your comfort?
The cordial that ye bring a wretched lady?
A woman lost among ye, laugh'd at, scorn'd?
I will not wish ye half my miseries,

I have more charity: But say, I warn'd ye;
Take heed, for heaven's sake, take heed, lest at once
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 ye have me (If you 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! he has banish'd me his bed already
His love, too long ago: I am old, my lords,
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.
Your fears are worse.

Cam.

[him?

Q. Kath. Have I liv'd thus long-(let me speak myself, Since virtue finds no friends), a wife, a true one? A woman (1 dare say, without vain-glory), Never yet branded with suspicion ! Have I with all my full affections Still met the king lov'd him next heaven? obey'd Been, out of fondness, superstitions to him? Almost forgot my prayers to content him? And am I thus rewarded? 'tis not well, lords. Bring me a constant woman to her husband, One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure; And to that woman, when she has done most, Yet will I add an honour, a great patience.

Wol. Madam, you wander from the good we aim at. Q. Kath. My lord, I dare not make myself so guilty, To give up willingly that noble title

Your master wed me to nothing but death
Shall e'er divorce my dignities.

Wol.

'Pray, hear me.

Q. Kath. 'Would I had never trod this English
Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it! [earth,
Ye have angeis' faces, but heaven knows your hearts.
What will become of me now, wretched lady?
I am the most unhappy woman living.-
Alas! poor wenches, where are now your fortunes?
To her Women.
Shipwreck'd upon a kingdom, where no pity,
No friends, no hope; no kindred weep for me,
Almost, no grave allow'd me:-Like the lily,
That once was mistress of the field, and tourish'd,
I'll hang my head, and perish.
Wol.
If your grace
Could but be brought to know, our ends are honest,
You'd feel more comfort: why should we, good lady,
Upon what cause, wrong you? alas! our places,
The way of our profession, is against it;
We are to cure such sorrows, not to sow them.
For goodness' sake, consider what you do;
How you may hurt yourself, ay, utterly
Grow from the king's acquaintance, by this carriage.
The hearts of princes kiss obedience,

So much they love it; but, to stubborn spirits,
They swell, and grow as terrible as storms.
I know you have a gentle, noble temper,
A soul as even as a calm: Pray, think us
Those we profess, peace-makers, friends, and servants.
Cam. Madam, you'll find it so.
You wrong your

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To trust us in your business, we are ready
To use our utmost studies in your service.
Q. Kath. Do what ye will, my lords: And, pray,
If I have us'd myself unmannerly: [forgive me,
You know, I am a woman, lacking wit
To make a seemly answer to such persons.
Pray, do my service to his majesty:
He has my heart yet; and shall have my prayers,
While I shall have my life. Come, reverend fathers,
Bestow your counsels on me she now begs,
That little thought, when she set footing here,
She should have bought her dignities so dear.

[Exeunt.
SCENE II. Antechamber to the King's Apartment.
Enter the Duke of Norfolk, the Duke of Suffolk, the
Earl of Surry, and the Lord Chamberlain.
Nor. If you will now unite in your complaints
And force them with a constancy, the cardinal
Cannot stand under them: If you omit
The offer of this time, I cannot promise,

But that you shall sustain more new disgraces,
With these you bear already.

Surry.

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.

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

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 his tongue.

Nor.

O, fear him not; His spell in that is out: the king hath found Matter against him, that for ever mars

The honey of his language. No, he's settled, Not to come off, in his displeasure.

Surry.

I should be glad to Once every hour.

Nor.

Sir,

hear such news as this

Believe it, this is true.

In the divorce, his contrary proceedings

Are all unfolded; wherein he appears, As I could wish mine enemy.

Surry.

How came

Most strangely.

His practices to light?
Suff.
Surry.
O, how, how?
Suff. The cardinal's letter 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.
Surry. Has the king this?
Suff.

Surry.

Believe it.

Will this work?

Cham. The king in this perceives him, how he

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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 virtuous
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
Our hard-ral'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.

Nor.

He is vex'd at something. Suff. I would, 'twere something that would fret the The master-cord of his heart! [string,

Enter the King, reading a Schedule; and Lovell. The king, the king.

K. Hen. What piles of wealth hath he accumulated To his own portion! and what expense by the hour Seems to flow from him! How, i'the name of thrift, Does he rake this together?-Now, my lords: Saw you the cardinal?

Nor.

My lord, we have Stood here observing him: Some strange commotion Is in his brain he bites his lip, and starts; Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground, 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 We have seen him set himself.

K. Hen.

It may well be; There is mutiny in his mind. This morning, 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,

NN

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Wol.

[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 staff, and bear the inventory
Of your best graces in your mind the which
You were now running o'er; you have scarce time.
To steal from spiritual leisure, a brief span,
To keep your earthly audit: Sure, in that
I deem you an ill husband; and am glad
To have you therein my companion.
Wol.

Sir, For holy offices I have a time a time To think upon the part of business, which I bear i'the state; and nature does require Her times of preservation, which, perforce, I her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal, Must give my tendance to. K. Hen. You have said well. Wol. And ever may your highness yoke together, As I will lend you canse, my doing well With my well saying!

K. Hen.

'Tis well said again;
And 'tis a kind of good deed, to say well:
And yet words are no deeds. My father lov'd you;
He said, he did; and with his deed did crown
His word upon you. Since I had my office,

I have kept you next my heart; have not alone
Employ'd you where high profits might come home,
But par'd my present havings, to bestow
My bounties upon you.

Wol.

What should this mean?
Surry. The Lord increase this business! [Aside.
K. Hen.
Have I not made you
The prime man of the state? I pray you, tell me,
If what I now pronounce, you have found true:
And, if yon may confess it, say withal,

If you are bound to us, or no. What say you?
Wol. My sovereign, I confess, your royal graces
Shower'd on me daily, have been more, than could
My studied purposes requite; which went
Beyond all man's endeavours:-my endeavours
Have ever come too short of my desires,
Yet, fill'd with my abilities: Mine own ends.
Have been mine so, that evermore they pointed
To the good of your most sacred person, and
The profit of the state. For your great graces
Heap'd upon me, poor undeserver, I
Can nothing render but allegiant thanks;
My prayers to heaven for you; my loyalty,
Which ever has, and ever shall be growing,
Till death, that winter, kill it.

K. Hen.

Fairly answer'd;

A loyal and obedient subject is
Therein illustrated: The honour of it
Does pay the act of it; as, i'the contrary,
The foulness is the punishment. I presume,
That, as my hand has open'd bounty to you,

My heart dropp'd love, my power rain'd honour, more
On you, than any; so your hand, and heart,
Your brain, and every function of your power,
Should, notwithstanding that your bond of duty,
As 'twere in love's particular, be more
To me, your friend, than any.
Wol.
I do profess,
That for your highness' good I ever labour'd
More than mine own; that am, have, and will be.
Though all the world should crack their duty to you,
And throw it from their soul: though perils did
Abound, as thick as thought could make them, and
Appear in forms more horrid; yet my duty,
As doth a rock against the chiding flood,
Should the approach of this wild river break,
And stand unshaken yours.

K. Hen.
'Tis nobly spoken:
Take notice, lords, he has a loyal breast,
For you have seen him open't.-Read o'er this;

【Giving him Papers.

And, after, this: and then to breakfast, with What appetite you have.

[Exit King, frowning upon Cardinal Wolsey ; the Nobles throng after him, smiling, and whispering. Wol. What should this mean? What sudden anger's this? how have I reap'd it? He parted frowning from me, as if ruin

Leap'd from his eyes: So looks the chafed lion
Upon the daring huntsman that has gall'd him;
Then makes him nothing. I must read this paper;
I fear, the story of his anger.-"Tis so;
This paper has undone me:"Tis the account
Of all that world of wealth I have drawn together
For mine own ends; indeed, to gain the popedom,
And fee my friends in Rome. O negligence,
Fit for a fool to fall by! What cross devil
Made me put this main secret in the packet,
I sent the king? Is there no way to cure this?
No new device to beat this from his brains?
I know, 'twill stir him strongly; Yet I know
A way, if it take right, in spite of fortune,
Will bring me off again. What's this-To the Pope?
The letter, as I live, with all the business

I writ to his holiness. Nay, then, farewell!

I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness;
And, from that full meridian of my glory,

I haste now to my setting: I shall fall
Like a bright exhalation in the evening,
And no man see me more.

Stav,

Re-enter the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, the Earl of Surry, and the Lord Chamberlain. Nor. Hear the king's pleasure, cardinal: who comTo render up the great seal presently [mands you Into our hands; and to confine yourself To Asher-house, my lord of Winchester's, Till you hear further from his highness. Wol. Where's your commission, lords? words cannot carry Authority so weighty. Suff Who dare cross them? Bearing the king's will from his mouth expressly! Wol. Till I find more than will, or words, to do it (I mean, your malice), know, officions lords, I dare, and must deny it. Now I feel Of what coarse metal ye are moulded,-envy. How eagerly ye follow my disgraces, As if it fed ye! and how sleek and wanton Ye appear in every thing may bring my rain! Follow your envious courses, men of malice; You have Christian warrant for them, and, no doubt, In time will find their fit rewards. That seal, You ask with such a violence, the king (Mine, and your master), with his own hand gave me : Bade me enjoy it, with the place and honours, During my life; and, to confirm his goodness, Tied it by letters patents: Now, who'll take it? Surry. The king, that gave it. Wol. It must be himself then. Surry. Thou art a proud traitor, priest. Wol. Proud lord, thou liest; Within these forty hours Surry durst better Have burnt that tongue, than said so.

Surry.
Thy ambition,
Thou scarlet sin, robb'd this bewailing land
Of noble Buckingham, my father-in-law:
The heads of all thy brother cardinals
(With thee, and all thy best parts bound together),
Weigh'd not a hair of his. Plague of your policy!
You sent me deputy for Ireland;

Far from his succour, from the king, from all
That might have mercy on the fault thou gav'st him;
Whilst your great goodness, out of holy pity,
Absolv'd him with an axe.

Wol.
This, and all else
This talking lord can lay upon my credit,
I answer, is most false. The duke by law
Found his deserts; how innocent I was
From any private malice in his end,
His noble jury and foul cause can witness.
If I lov'd many words, lord, I should tell you,
You have as little modesty as honour;
That I, in the way of loyalty and truth
Toward the king, my ever royal master,
Dare mate a sounder man than Surry can be,
And all that love his follies.

By my soul,

[feel

Surry. Your long coat, priest, protects you; thou shouldst My sword i'the life-blood of thee else.-My lords, Can ye endure to hear this arrogance?

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