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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

heed to't:-
My conscience first received a tenderness,
Scruple, and prick, on certain speeches utter'd
By the bishop of Bayonne, then French ambassador;
Who had been bither sent on the debating
A marriage, 'twixt the duke of Orleans and...
Our daughter Mary : l'the progress of this business,
Ere a determinate resolution, he
(I mean the bisbop) 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 couscience, 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,
Aud press'd in with tliis caution, First, methought,
I stood not in the smile of heaven; who had
Commanded nature, that my lady's womb,
If pot 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 judgement 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 tin
The wild sea of my conscience, I did steer

* Closed or fastened. + Floating without guidance.

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 privato
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 say How far you satisfied me. 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 :-Upsolicited I left no reverend person in tbis court; But by particular consent proceeded, Under your hands 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'dt o'the world, Cam.

So please your highness, The queen being absent, 'tis a needful fitness That we adjourn this court till further day:

• Waste, or wear away.
+ Without compare,

Meanwbile must be an earnest motion
Made to the queen, to call back her appeal
She intends unto his holiness.

[They rise to depart. K. Hen.

I may perceive, (Aside. These cardinals trifle with me: I abbor This dilatory sloth, and tricks of Rome. My learn'd and well-beloved servant, Cranmer, Prythee return* ! with thy approach, I know, My comfort comes along. Break up the court: I say, set on.

[Exeunt, in manner as they entered.

ACT III.

SCENE I. Palace at Bridewell.

A room in the Queen's apartment.

The Queen, and some of her Women, at work.

Q. Kath. Take thy lute, wench: my soul grows

sad with troubles ; Sing, and disperse them, if thou canst: leave work

ing.

SONG.

Orpheus with his lute made trees,
And the mountain-tops, that freeze,

Bow themselves, when he did sing
To his musick, plants, and flowers,
Ever sprung; as sun, and showers,

There had been a lasting spring.

· * An apostrophe to the absent bishop.

Every thing that heard him play,
Even the billows of the sea,

Hung their heads, and then lay by.
In sweet musick is such art;
Killing care, and grief of heart,

Fall asleep, or, hearing, die.

Enter a Gentleman.

Q. Kath. How now?
Gent. An't please your grace, the two great car-

dinals
Wait in the presence*.
Q. Kath.

Would they speak with me? Gent. They will'd me say so, madam. Q. Kath.

Pray their graces To come near. [Exit Gent.] What cau be their bu

siness With me, a poor weak woman, fallen from favour? I do not like their coming, now I think on't. They shouldbe good men; their affairst are right

eous : But all hoods make not monks.

Enter Wolsey and Campeius. Wol.

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 with.

draw
Into your private chamber, we shall give you
The full cause of our coming.
Q. Kath.

Speak it here;

* Presence-chamber. ;.

Professions.

There's nothing I have done get, omy conscience,
Deserves a corner: 'Would, all other women
Could speak this with as free a soul as I do!
My Jords, I care not so much I am happy
Above a number), if my actions in
Were tried by every tongue, every eye saw them,
Envy and base opinion set against then,
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 pot to know the language I have liv'd in:
A strange tongue makes my cause more strange, sus-

picious; Pray, speak in Euglish: here are some will thank

you, If you speak truth, for their poor mistress' sake; Believe me, she has had much wrong: Lord cardi.

nal,
The willing'st sin I ever get 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 censure
Both of his truth and him (which was too far),

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