God save you, sir! Where have you been broiling? 3 Gent. Among the crowd i' the Abbey; where a finger Could not be wedged in more: I am stifled With the mere rankness of their joy. 2 Gent. You saw the ceremony? 3 Gent. 1 Gent. How was it? 3 Gent. That I did. Well worth the seeing. 2 Gent. Good sir, speak it to us. The rich stream 3 Gent. As well as I am able. A distance from her; while her grace sat down As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest, That had not half a week to go, like rams In the old time of war, would shake the press, Could say, 'This is my wife,' there; all were Woven So strangely in one piece. 2 Gent. But what followed? 3 Gent. At length her grace rose, and with modest paces Came to the altar; where she kneeled and saint like Cast her fair eyes to heaven, and prayed devoutly. The rod, and bird of peace, and all such emblems And with the same full state paced back again To York Place, where the feast is held. 1 Gent. Sir, You must no more call it York Place, that 's past; For, since the Cardinal fell, that title's lost: 'Tis now the King's, and called White Hall. 3 Gent. I know it; But 't is so lately altered, that the old name 2 Gent. What two reverend Bishops Were those that went on each side of the Queen? 3 Gent. Stokesly and Gardiner; the one, of Winchester, Newly preferred from the King's Secretary; 2 Gent. He of Winchester Is held no great good lover of the Archbishop's, 3 Gent. All the land knows that: However, yet there's no great breach; when it comes, Cranmer will find a friend will not shrink from him. 2 Gent. Who may that be, I pray you ? 3 Gent. Thomas Cromwell; A man in much esteem with the King, and truly A worthy friend.-The King Has made him master of the jewel-house, 2 Gent. He will deserve more. Yes, without all doubt. Come, gentlemen, ye shall go my way, which As I walk thither, Enter KATHARINE, Dowager, sick; led between GRIFFITH and PATIENCE. Grif. How does your grace? Kath. O Griffith, sick to death: My legs, like loaden branches, bow to the earth, Willing to leave their burden: reach a chair :— So, now, methinks, I feel a little ease. Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou ledd'st me, That the great child of honour, Cardinal Wolsey, Was dead? Grif. Yes, madam; but, I think, your grace, Out of the pain you suffered, gave no ear to't 152 KING HENRY VIII. Kath. Pr'ythee, good Griffith, tell me how he died: If well, he stepped before me, happily, For my example. Grif. Well, the voice goes, madam : For after the stout Earl Northumberland Arrested him at York, and brought him forward, As a man sorely tainted, to his answer, He fell sick suddenly, and grew so ill He could not sit his mule. Kath. Alas, poor man ! came to Grif. At last, with easy roads, he Leicester; Lodged in the Abbey, where the reverend Abbot, So went to bed, where eagerly his sickness |