Gap. Madam, the fame, your fervant.
Kath. O my lord,

The times, and titles, now are alter'd ftrangely With me, fince first you knew me. But, I pray you, What is your pleasure with me?

Cap. Noble lady,

Firft, mine own fervice to your grace; the next, The king's requeft that I would vifit you;

Who grieves much for your weaknefs, and by me Sends you his princely commendations

And heartily entreats you take good comfort. Kath. O my good lord, that comfort comes too 'Tis like a pardon after execution: [late That gentle phyfick, given in time, had cur'd me; But now I am paft all comforts here, but prayers. How does his highness?..

Cap. Madam, in good health.

Kath. So may he ever do! and ever flourish, When I fhall dwell with worms, and my poor name Banifh'd the kingdom!-Patience, is that letter, I caus'd you write, yet fent away?

Pat. No, madam.

Kath. Sir, I moft humbly pray you to deliver This to my lord the king.

Cap. Molt willing, madam.

Kath. In which I have commended to his goodness The model of our chafte loves, his young daugh

ter:

The dews of heaven fall thick in bleffings on her!-
Befeeching him, to give her virtuous breeding;
(She is young, and of a noble modest nature;
I hope, he will deferve well) and a little
To love her for her mother's fake, that lov'd him,
Heaven knows how dearly. My next poor petition

Is, that his noble grace would have fome pity
Upon my wretched women, that fo long
Have follow'd both my fortunes faithfully:
Of which there is not one, I dare avow
(And now I fhould not lie), but will deserve,
For virtue, and true beauty of the soul,
For honefty, and decent carriage,

A right good husband; let him be a noble;
And, fure, thofe men are happy that shall have 'em.
The laft 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 fomething over to remember me by :
If heaven had pleas'd to have given me longer life,
And able means, we had not parted thus.
These are the whole contents :-And, good my lord,
By that you love the dearest in this world,
As you with chriftian fouls departed,

Stand these poor people's friend, and urge the king
To do me this last right.

Cap. By heaven, I will;

Or let me lofe the fashion of a man.

Kath. I thank you, honeft lord. Remember me In all humility unto his highness:

Say, his long trouble now is paffing

Out of this world: tell him, in death I blest him,
For fo I will.-Mine eyes grow dim.-Farewell,
My lord. Griffith, farewell.-Nay, Patience,
You must not leave me yet. I must to bed;
Call in more women.-When I am dead, good wench,
'Let me be us'd with honour; ftrew me over
With maiden flowers, that all the world may know
I was a chafte wife to my grave: embalm me,
Then lay me forth: although unqueen'd, yet like

A queen,

A queen, and daughter to a king, inter me.

I can no more.

[Exeunt, leading KATHARINE.

ACT V.

SCENE I.

Some Part of the Palace.

Enter GARDINER Bishop of Winchester, a Page with a Torch before him, met by Sir THOMAS LOVEL. Gardiner.

It's one o'clock, boy, is't not?

Boy. It hath ftruck.

Gard. Thefe fhould be hours for neceffities, Not for delights; times to repair our nature With comforting repofe, and not for us Good hour of night, Sir

To wafte thofe times.

Whither fo late?

[Thomas! Lov. Came you from the king, my lord? Gard. I did, Sir Thomas; and left him at primero

With the duke of Suffolk.

Lov. I muft to him too, Before he go to bed.

I'll take my leave. Gard. Not yet, Sir Thomas Lovel. What's the It feems, you are in hafte: an if there be [matter? No great offence belongs to't, give your friend Some touch of your late business: Affairs, that walk (As, they fay, fpirits do) at midnight, have In them a milder nature, than the business That feeks difpatch by day.

Lov. My lord, I love you;

And durft commend a fecret to your ear
H 3

Much

Much weightier than this work. The queen's in laThey fay, in great extremity; and fear'd, [bour, ¿ She'll with the labour end.

I

Gard. The fruit, fhe goes with,

pray

for heartily; that it may find

Good time, and live: but for the stock, Sir Thomas, I wish it grubb'd up now.

Lov. Methinks, I could

Cry the amen; and yet my confcience fays
She's a good creature, and, fweet lady, does
Deferve our better wishes.

Gard. But, fir, fir

Hear me, Sir Thomas: You are a gentleman
Of mine own way; I know you wife, religious;
And, let me tell you, it will ne'er be well-
Twill not, Sir Thomas Lovel, take't of me—
'Till Cranmer, Cromwell, her two hands, and she,
Sleep in their graves.

Lov. Now, fir, you speak of two

The most remark'd i' the kingdom. As for Cromwell

Befide that of the jewel-house, he's made master O' the rolls, and the king's fecretary; further, tir, Stands in the gap and trade of more preferments, With which the time will load him: The archbishop Is the king's hand, and tongue; And who dare speak One fyllable against him?

Gard. Yes, yes, Sir Thomas,

There are that dare; and I myfelf have ventur'd
To speak my mind of him: and, indeed, this day,
Sir (I may tell it you), I think, I have
Incens'd the lords o' the council, that he is
(For fo I know he is, they know he is)
A most arch heretick, a peftilence

That

That does infect the land: with which they moved,
Have broken with the king; who hath fo far
Given ear to our complaint (of his great grace
And princely care; forefeeing thofe fell mifchiefs
Our reafons laid before him), he hath commanded,
To-morrow morning to the council-board

He be convented. He's a rank weed, Sir Thomas,
And we must root him out. From your affairs
I hinder you too long: good night, Sir Thomas.
Lov. Many good nights, my lord; I rest your ser-
[Exeunt GARDINER, and Page.

vant.

As LovEL is going out, enter the King, and the Duke
of SUFFOLK.

King. Charles, I will play no more to-night;
My mind's not on't, you are too hard for me.
Suf. Sir, I did never win of you before.
King. But little, Charles';

Nor fhall not, when my fancy's on my play.-
Now, Lovel, from the queen what is the news?
Lov. I could not perfonally deliver to her
What you commanded me, but by her woman
I fent your meffage; who return'd her thanks
In the greatest humblenefs, and defir'd your high-
Moft heartily to pray for her.

Lov. What fay'ft thou? ha!

To pray for her? what, is the crying out?

[nefs

King. So faid her woman; and that her fufferance

Almoft each pang a death.

King. Alas, good lady!

[madé

Suf. God fafely quit her of her burden, and With gentle travel, to the gladdening of

Your highnefs with an heir!

King 'Tis midnight, Charles,

Pr'ythee,