Bearing a state of mighty moment in't,
And confequence of dread, that I committed
The daring'ft Councel which I had to doubt,
And did intreat your Highness to this Course,
Which you are running here.
King. I then mov'd you,
My Lord of Canterbury, and got your leave
To make this prefent Summons unfollicited.
I left no reverend Perfon in this Court,
But by particular confent proceeded
Under your Hands ard Seals; therefore go on,
For no diflike i'th' World against the Perfon
Of our good Queen, but the sharp thorny Points
Of my alledged Reafons, drives 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 primeft Creature
That's Paragon'd o'th' World.
Cam. So please your Highness,
The Queen being abfent, 'tis a needful fitness,
That we Adjourn this Court to a further day;
Mean while must be an earnest motion
Made to the Queen, to call back her Appeal
She intends unto his Holiness.
Thefe Cardinals trifle with me: I abhor
This dilatory Sloth, and Tricks of Rome.
My learned and well-beloved Servant Cranmer,
Prithee return; with thy approach, I know,
My comfort comes along: break up the Court:
I fay, fet on.
[Exeunt, in manner as they enter'd,
Enter Queen and her Women, as at Work.
·T AKE thy Lute, Wench,
My Soul grows fad with Troubles,
Sing, and difperfe 'em if thou can'ft: leave working.
Orpheus, with his Luste, made Trees,
And the Mountain tops, that freeze,
Bow themselves when he did fing.
To his Mufick, Plants and Flowers
Ever Spring, as Sun and Showers
There had made a lasting Spring.
Every thing that heard him play,
Even the Billows of the Sea,
Hung their Heads, and then lay by.
In fweet Mufick is fuch Art,
Killing Care, and Grief of Heart,
Fall afleep, or hearing dye.
Enter a Gentleman.
Gent. And't please your Grace, the two great Cardinals Wait in the Prefence.
Queen. Would they speak with me?
Gent. They will'd me fay fo, Madam.
Queen, Pray their Graces
To come near; what can be their Bufitfefs
With me, a poor weak Woman, fall'n from Favour?
I do not like their coming. Now I think on't,
They should be good Men, their Affairs are Righteous,
But, All Hoods make not Monks.
Enter the Cardinals Wolfey and Campeius.
Wol. Peace to your Highness.
Queen. Your Graces find me here part of a House-wife, (I would be all) against the worst may happen:
What are your Pleafures with me, Reverend Lords?
Wol. May it pleafe you, Noble Madam, to withdraw
Into your private Chamber; we fhall give you
The full caufe of our coming.
There's nothing I have done yet, o'my Confcience,
Deferves a Corner; would all other Women
Could fpeak this with as free a Soul, as I do!
My Lords, I care not (fo much I am happy
Above a number) if my Actions
Were try'd by every Tongue, every Eye faw 'em,
Envy and bafe Opinion fet againft 'em,
I know my Life fo even. If
If your Business
Seek me out, and that way I am Wife in;
Out with it boldly: Truth loves open Dealing.
Wol. Tanta eft erga te mentis integritas, Regina Serenissima.--
Queen. Good my Lord, no Latin;
I am not fuch a Truant fince my coming,
As not to know the Language I have liv'd in:
A ftrange Tongue makes my caufe more ftrange, fufpicious:
Pray fpeak in English; here are fome will thank you,
If you fpeak truth, for their poor Miftrefs fake;
Believe me the has had much wrong.
The willing'ft Sin I ever yet committed,
May be abfolv'd in English.
Wol. Noble Lady,
I am forry my Integrity fhould breed
(And Service to his Majefty and you)
So deep Sufpicion, where ali Faith was meant ;
We come not by the way of Accufation,
To taint that Honour every good Tongue bleffes;
Nor to betray you any way to Sorrow,
You have too much, good Lady: But to know
How you ftand minded in the weighty Difference
Between the King and you, and to deliver,
Like free and honeft Men, our juft Opinions,
And comforts to your Caufe.
Cam. Moft honoured Madam,
My Lord of York, out of his noble Nature,
Zeal and Obedience, he ftill bore your Grace,
Forgetting, like a good Man, your late Censure
Both of his Truth and him, (which was too far)
Offers, as I do, in a fign of Peace,
His Service and his Counfel.
Queen. To betray me.
My Lords, I thank you both for your good wills,
Ye fpeak like honeft Men, pray God ye prove to,
But how to make ye fuddenly an Answer
In fuch a point of weight, fo near mine Honour,
(More near my Life, I fear) with my weak Wit,
And to fuch Men of Gravity and Learning;
In truth I know not. I was fet at work
Among my Maids, full little, God knows, looking
Either for fuch Men, or fuch Business;
For her fake that I have been, for I feel
The laft fit of my Greatnefs, good your Graces,
Let me have Time and Council for my Caufe:
Alas, I am a Woman friendless, hopeless.
Wol. Madam,
You wrong the King's Love with those Fears,
Your Hopes and Friends are infinite.
Queen. In England,
But little for my profit; Can you think, Lord,
That any English Man dare give me Counfel?
Or be a known Friend 'gainft his Highness pleasure,
Though he be grown fo defperate to be honest,
And live a Subject? Nay forfooth, my Friends,
They that muft weigh out my Afflictions,
They that my trust muft grow to, live not here,
They are, as all my other Comforts, far hence
In mine own Country, Lords..
Cam. I would your Grace
Would leave your Griefs, and take my Counsel.
Queen. How, Sir?
Cam. Put your main Caufe into the King's Protection. He's loving and moft gracious. Twill be much
Both for your Honour better, and your Caufe:
For if the Trial of the Law o'er-take ye,
You'll part away difgrac'd;
Wol. He tells you rightly.
Queen. Ye tell me what ye wish for both, my Ruin: Is this your Christian Counsel? Out upon ye,
Heav'n is above all yet; there fits a Judge,
That no King can corrupt.
Cam. Your Rage mistakes us.
Queen. The more fhame for ye; holy Men I thought ye, Upon my Soul, two reverend Cardinal Virtues;
But Cardinal Sins, and hollow Hearts, I fear ye:
Mend 'em for fhame, my Lords: Is this your comfort?
The Cordial that ye bring a wretched Lady?
A Woman loft among ye, laugh'd at, fcorn'd?
I will not wish ye half my
I have more Charity. But fay I warn'd ye;
Take heed, for Heav'ns fake take heed, left at once
The burthen of my Sorrows fall upon ye.
Wol. Madam, this is a meer Distraction,
You turn the Good we offer into Envy.
Queen. Ye turn me into nothing. Wo upon ye, And all fuch falfe Profeffors. Would you have me (If you have any Juftice, any Pity..
If ye be any thing, but Churchmens Habits)
Put my fick Caufe into his Hands that hates me?
Alas, h'as banish'd me his Bed already,
His Love too, long ago. I am old, my Lords,
And all the Fellowship I hold now with him
Is only by Obedience. What can happen
To me, above this wretchedness? All your
Make me a Curfe, like this.
Cam. Your fears are worfe.
Queen. Have I liv'd thus long (let me speak my felf, Since Virtue finds no Friends) a Wife, a true one? A Woman (I dare fay without Vain-glory)
Never yet branded with Sufpicion ?
Have I, with all my full Affections
Still met the King? lov'd him next Heav'n, obey'd him?
Beer, out of fondnefs, fuperftitious to him?
Almoft forgot my Prayers to content him?
And am I thus rewarded? 'tis not well, Lords.
Bring me a conftant Woman to her Husband,
One that ne'er dream'd a Joy, beyond his pleasure :
And to that Woman, when the has done moft,
Yet will I add an Honour; a great Patience.
Wol. Madam, you wander from the good
We aim at.
Queen. My Lord,
I dare not make my felf fo guilty.
To give up willingly that noble Title
Your Mafter wed me to: Nothing but Death
Shall e'er divorce my Dignities.
Queen. Would I had never trod this English Earth, Or felt the Flatteries that grow upon it:
Ye have Angels Faces, but Heav'n knows your Hearts.
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