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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 warned ye.

Take heed, for heaven’s sake take heed, lest at once The burden of my sorrows fall upon ye.

WOLSEY. Madam, this is a mere distraction; You turn the good we offer into envy.

QUEEN KATHARINE. Ye turn me into nothing. Woe upon ye, And all such false professors! Would you 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! 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.

CAMPEIUS. Your fears are worse.

QUEEN KATHARINE. Have I liv’d thus long-let me speak myself, Since virtue finds no friends-a wife, a true one?

A woman, I dare say without vainglory, Never yet branded with suspicion?

Have I with all my full affections

Still met the King, lov’d him next heav’n, obey’d him, Been, out of fondness, superstitious 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 honoura great patience.

WOLSEY. Madam, you wander from the good we aim at.

QUEEN KATHARINE. 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.

WOLSEY. Pray hear me.

QUEEN KATHARINE. Would I had never trod this English earth, Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it!

Ye have angels’ faces, but heaven knows your hearts.

What will become of me now, wretched lady?

I am the most unhappy woman living.

[To her WOMEN] Alas, poor wenches, where are now your fortunes?

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 My, That once was mistress of the field, and flourish’d, I’ll hang my head and perish.

WOLSEY. 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 ‘em.

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, peacemakers, friends, and servants.

CAMPEIUS. Madam, you’ll find it so. You wrong your virtues With these weak women’s fears. A noble spirit, As yours was put into you, ever casts Such doubts as false coin from it. The King loves you; Beware you lose it not. For us, if you please To trust us in your business, we are ready To use our utmost studies in your service.

QUEEN KATHARINE. Do what ye will my lords; and pray forgive me

If I have us’d myself unmannerly;

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 ACT III.SCENE 2.

 

London. The palace

 

Enter the DUKE OF NORFOLK, the DUKE OF SUFFOLK, the EARL OF SURREY, and the LORD CHAMBERLAIN

 

NORFOLK. 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 moe new disgraces With these you bear already.

SURREY. 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.

SUFFOLK. 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?

CHAMBERLAIN. 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 th’ King, never attempt Anything on him; for he hath a witchcraft Over the King in’s tongue.

NORFOLK. 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.

SURREY. Sir,

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

NORFOLK. Believe it, this is true:

In the divorce his contrary proceedings Are all unfolded; wherein he appears

As I would wish mine enemy.

SURREY. How came

His practices to light?

SUFFOLK. Most Strangely.

SURREY. O, how, how?

SUFFOLK. The Cardinal’s letters to the Pope miscarried, And came to th’ eye o’ th’ King; wherein was read How that the Cardinal did entreat his Holiness To stay the judgment o’ th’ 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.’

SURREY. Has the King this?

SUFFOLK. Believe it.

SURREY. Will this work?

CHAMBERLAIN. 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.

SURREY. Would he had!

SUFFOLK. May you be happy in your wish, my lord!

For, I profess, you have it.

SURREY. Now, all my joy

Trace the conjunction!

SUFFOLK. My amen to’t!

NORFOLK. An men’s!

SUFFOLK. There’s order given for her coronation; Marry, this is yet but young, and may be left To some ears unrecounted. But, my lords, She is a gallant creature, and complete In mind and feature. I persuade me from her Will fall some blessing to this land, which shall In it be memoriz’d.

SURREY. But will the King

Digest this letter of the Cardinal’s?

The Lord forbid!

NORFOLK. Marry, amen!

SUFFOLK. No, no;

There be moe wasps that buzz about his nose Will make this sting the sooner. Cardinal Campeius Is stol’n away to Rome; hath ta’en no leave; Has left the cause o’ th’ 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.

CHAMBERLAIN. Now, God incense him,

And let him cry ‘Ha!’ louder!

NORFOLK. But, my lord,

When returns Cranmer?

SUFFOLK. 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.

NORFOLK. This same Cranmer’s

A worthy fellow, and hath ta’en much pain In the King’s business.

SUFFOLK. He has; and we shall see him

For it an archbishop.

NORFOLK. So I hear.

SUFFOLK. ‘Tis so.

 

Enter WOLSEY and CROMWELL

 

The Cardinal!

NORFOLK. Observe, observe, he’s moody.

WOLSEY. The packet, Cromwell,

Gave’t you the King?

CROMWELL. To his own hand, in’s bedchamber.

WOLSEY. Look’d he o’ th’ inside of the paper?

CROMWELL. Presently

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.

WOLSEY. Is he ready

To come abroad?

CROMWELL. I think by this he is.

WOLSEY. Leave me awhile. Exit CROMWELL

[Aside] It shall be to the Duchess of Alencon, 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 Pembroke!

NORFOLK. He’s discontented.

SUFFOLK. May be he hears the King

Does whet his anger to him.

SURREY. Sharp enough,

Lord, for thy justice!

WOLSEY. [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 virtuous And well deserving? Yet I know her for A spleeny Lutheran; and not wholesome to Our cause that she should lie i’ th’ bosom of 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.

NORFOLK. He is vex’d at something.

 

Enter the KING, reading of a schedule, and LOVELL

 

SURREY. I would ‘twere something that would fret the string, The master-cord on’s heart!

SUFFOLK. The King, the King!

KING. What piles of wealth hath he accumulated To his own portion! And what expense by th’ hour Seems to flow from him! How, i’ th’ name of thrift, Does he rake this together?-Now, my lords, Saw you the Cardinal?

NORFOLK. 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.

KING. It may well be

There is a mutiny in’s mind. This morning Papers of state he sent me to peruse, As I requir’d; and wot you what I found Thereon 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.

NORFOLK. It’s heaven’s will;

Some spirit put this paper in the packet To bless your eye withal.

KING. 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.

[The KING takes his seat and whispers LOVELL, who goes to the CARDINAL]

WOLSEY. Heaven forgive me!

Ever God bless your Highness!

KING. Good, my lord,

You are full of heavenly stuff, 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.

WOLSEY. Sir,

For holy offices I have a time; a time To think upon the part of business which I bear i’ th’ state; and nature does require Her times of preservation, which perforce I, her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal, Must give my tendance to.

KING. You have said well.

WOLSEY. And ever may your Highness yoke together, As I will lend you cause, my doing well With my well saying!

KING. ‘Tis well said again;

And ‘tis a kind

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