Our daughter Mary: I' the progress of this business, Ere a determinate resolution, he (I mean, the Bishop) did requite a respite; Wherein he might the King his lord advertise Whether our daughter were legitimate, Respecting this our marriage with the dowager, Yea, with a splitting power, and made to tremble I stood not in the smile of heaven; who had The grave does to the dead: for her male issue thought, This was a judgement on me; that my kingdom, 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 How far you satisfy'd me. to say Lin. So please your Highness, The question did at first so stagger me, that I committed The daring'st counsel which I had, to doubt; K. Hen. I then mov'd you, My Lord of Canterbury; and got your leave Unsolicited I left no reverend person in this court; Under your hands and seals. Therefore, go on : To wear our mortal state to come, with her, Cam. So please your Highness, The Queen being absent, 'tis a needful fitness [They rise to depart. K. Hen. I may perceive, [Aside. My learn'd and well-beloved servant, Cranmer, [Exeunt, in manner as they enter❜d. 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 working, SONG. Orpheus with his lute made trees, Every thing that heard him play, Hung their heads, and then lay by. Enter a Gentleman. Q. Kath. How now? Gent. An't please your Grace, the two great Cardinals. Wait in the presence. Q. Kath. Would they speak with me? To come near. [Exit. Gent.] What can be their With me, business favour? a poor weak wornan, fallen from I do not like their coming, now I think on't. They should be good men, their affairs as right eous: But all hoods made 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. Into your private chamber, we shall give you Q. Kath. Speak it here; There's nothing I have done yet, o' my con science, Deserves a corner: 'Would, all other women Were tried by every tongue, every eye saw them, Q. Kath. O, my good Lord, no Latin; 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 Gardinal, The willing'st sin I ever yet committed I am sorry, my integrity should breed, So deep suspicion, where all faith was meant. To taint that honour every good tongue blesses; You have too much, good Lady: but to know Cam. Most honour'd Madam, 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,) |