3 GENT. At length her grace rose, and with modest paces

Came to the altar; where she kneel'd, and, saintlike,

Cast her fair eyes to heaven, and pray'd devoutly.
Then rose again, and bow'd her to the people:
When by the archbishop of Canterbury
She had all the royal makings of a queen;
As, holy oil, Edward Confessor's crown,
The rod, and bird of peace, and all such emblems
Laid nobly on her: which perform'd, the choir,
With all the choicest music of the kingdom,
Together sung Te Deum. So she parted,
And with the same full state pac'd back again
To York-place, where the feast is held.

1 GENT. Sir, you must no more call it Yorkplace, that is past :

I know it;

For, since the cardinal fell, that title's lost; 'Tis now the king's, and call'd Whitehall. 3 GENT. But 't is so lately alter'd, that the old name Is fresh about me.

A man in much esteem with the king, and truly

A worthy friend.—The king

Has made him master o' the jewel-house,

And one, already, of the privy-council.

2 GENT. He will deserve more. 3 GENT.

Yes, without all doubt.Come, gentlemen, ye shall go my way, which Is to the court, and there ye shall be my guests;

a Scene II.] "This scene is above any other part of Shakspeare's tragedies, and perhaps above any scene of any other poet, tender and pathetick, without gods, or furies, or poisons, or precipices, without the help of romantic circumstances, without improbable sallies of poetical lamentation, and without any throes of tumultuous misery."-JOHNSON.

SCENE II.-Kimbolton.

Enter KATHARINE, Dowager, sick; led between GRIFFITH and PATIENCE, one of her women.

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 suffer'd, gave no ear to 't. KATH. Pr'ythee, good Griffith, tell me how he died:

If well, he stepp'd 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.

Alas, poor man !

KATH.
GRIF. At last, with easy roads, he came to

Leicester,

Lodg'd in the abbey; where the reverend abbot,
With all his covent, honourably receiv'd him ;
To whom he gave these words,-0, father abbot,
An old man, broken with the storms of state,
Is come to lay his weary bones among ye;
Give him a little earth for charity Į (1)
So went to bed; where eagerly his sickness
Pursu'd him still; and, three nights after this,
About the hour of eight, (which he himself
Foretold should be his last) full of repentance,
Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows,
He gave his honours to the world again,
His blessed part to heaven,(2) and slept in peace.
KATH. So may he rest; his faults lie gently on
him!

Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak him,
And yet with charity. He was a man
Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking
Himself with princes; one that, by suggestion,

This cardinal,

GRIF. Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly Was fashion'd to much honour from his cradle.b He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one; Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and persuading: Lofty and sour to them that lov'd him not; But to those men that sought him, sweet as summer. And though he were unsatisfied in getting,

a Tied all the kingdom:] Hanmer reads, "t; th'd all the kingdom;" we incline to believe, rightly.

b Was fashion'd to much honour from his cradle.] The old text has a full point after honour, beginning a new sentence with,

"From his cradle

He was a scholar."

The good that rear'd it;] The old copies have, "the good that did it;" which Pope altered to, the good he did it;" and Mr. Col

(Which was a sin) yet in bestowing, madam,
He was most princely: ever witness for him
Those twins of learning, that he rais'd in you,
Ipswich and Oxford! one of which fell with him,
Unwilling to outlive the good that rear'd it;
The other, though unfinish'd, yet so famous,
So excellent in art, and still so rising,
That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.
His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him;
For then, and not till then, he felt himself,
And found the blessedness of being little:
And, to add greater honours to his age
Than man could give him, he died fearing God.
KATH. After my death I wish no other herald,
No other speaker of my living actions,
To keep mine honour from corruption,
But such an honest chronicler as Griffith.
Whom I most hated living, thou hast made me,
With thy religious truth and modesty,
Now in his ashes honour: peace be with him!—
Patience, be near me still, and set me lower:
I have not long to trouble thee.-Good Griffith,
Cause the musicians play me that sad note

lier's annotator to, "the good man did it." The slight change we have made, conceiving did to be a misprint for rear'd, may perhaps be thought to give a better sense, and to be more like the phraseology of Shakespeare. By good, must be understood the personification of goodness; the word occurs again in "Pericles," with the same meaning, Act II. (Gower)

"The good, in conversation Is still at Tharsus," &c.

I nam'd my knell, whilst I sit meditating
On that celestial harmony I go to.

[Sad and solemn music.

GRIF. She is asleep:-good wench, let's sit down quiet,

For fear we wake her ;-softly, gentle Patience.

The vision. Enter, solemnly tripping one after

another, six personages, clad in white robes, wearing on their heads garlands of bays, and golden vizards on their faces; branches of bays or palm in their hands. They first congee unto her, then dance; and, at certain changes, the

a The vision.] The elaborate stage directions in this play exhibit no traces of Shakespeare's hand, and are foreign to his custom. They were most likely the work of some one upon whom

first two hold a spare garland over her head: at which, the other four make reverend curtsies; then the two that held the garland deliver the same to the other next two, who observe the same order in their changes, and holding the garland over her head: which done, they deliver the same garland to the last two, who likewise observe the same order: at which, (as it were by inspiration) she makes in her sleep signs of rejoicing, and holdeth up her hands to heaven: and so in their dancing they vanish, carrying the garland with them. The music continues.

devolved the arrangement of the pageantry. Of the present "vision," Malone remarks, "I do not believe the author wrote one word."

KATH. Spirits of peace, where are ye? are ye all gone?

And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye?
GRIF. Madam, we are here.
KATH.
It is not you I call for:
Saw ye none enter since I slept?
GRIF.

None, madam. KATH. No! Saw you not, even now, a blessed troop

Invite me to a banquet; whose bright faces
Cast thousand beams upon me, like the sun?
They promis'd me eternal happiness;

And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel
I am not worthy yet to wear: I shall, assuredly.
GRIF. I am most joyful, madam, such good
dreams

Possess your fancy.

KATH. Bid the music leave, They are harsh and heavy to me. [Music ceases. PAT. Do you note How much her grace is alter'd on the sudden? How long her face is drawn? how pale she looks, And of an earthy cold!" Mark her eyes! GRIF. She is going, wench; pray, pray. PAT. Heaven comfort her!

Enter a Messenger.

MESS. An't like your grace,KATH. You are a saucy fellow : Deserve we no more reverence? GRIF. You are to blame, Knowing she will not lose her wonted greatness, To use so rude behaviour: go to, kneel.

MESS. I humbly do entreat your highness' pardon;

My haste made me unmannerly. There is staying A gentleman, sent from the king, to see you. KATH. Admit him entrance, Griffith: but this fellow

Let me ne'er see again.

[Exeunt GRIFFITH and Messenger.

Re-enter GRIFFITH, with CAPUCIUS.

If my sight fail not, You should be lord ambassador from the emperor, My royal nephew, and your name Capucius. CAP. Madam, the same,-your servant. KATH. O, my lord,

a And of an earthy cold!] The line is imperfect. Should we read"Her hand of an earthy cold!"?

or

"And feels of an earthy cold!"?

Beseeching him to give her virtuous breeding,
(She is young, and of a noble modest nature,-
I hope she will deserve well) and a little
Heaven knows how dearly. My next poor petition
To love her for her mother's sake, that lov'd him,
Is, that his noble grace would have some pity
Upon my wretched women, that so long
Have follow'd both my fortunes faithfully:
Of which there is not one, I dare avow,
(And now I should not lie) but will deserve,
For virtue and true beauty of the soul,
For honesty and decent carriage,

A right good husband, let him be a noble ;
And, sure, those men are happy that shall have
'em.

The last is, for my men ;-they are the poorest, But poverty could never draw 'em from me ;That they may have their wages duly paid 'em, And something over to remember me by;

Mr. Collier's annotator would supply the deficiency by reading,"And of an earthy coldness."

b Let him be a noble ;] That is, Even though he were a noble

man.