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),—
Offers, as I do, in a sign of peace,

His service and his counsel.

Q. Kath.
To betray me, [Aside.
My lords, I thank you both for your good wills,
Ye speak like honest men, (pray God, ye prove so!)
But how to make you suddenly an answer,

In such a point of weight, so near mine honour
(More near my life, I fear), with my weak wit,
And to such men of gravity and learning,
In truth, I know not. I was set at work
Among my maids; full little, God knows, looking
Either for such men, or such business.

For her sake that I have been (for I feel
The last fit of my greatness), good your graces,
Let me have time, and counsel, for my cause;
Alas! I am a woman, friendless, hopeless.

Wol. Madam, you wrong the king's love with
these fears;

Your hopes and friends are infinite.

Q. Kath. In England, But little for my profit: Can you think, lords, That any Englishman dare give me counsel? Or be a known friend, 'gainst his highness' pleasure (Though he be grown so desperate to be honest),

For the sake of that royalty which I have heretofore possessed.

And live a subject? Nay, forsooth, my friends,
They that must weigh9 out my afflictions,
They that my trust must 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. Q. Kath.

How, sir? Cam. Put your main cause into the king's pro

tection;

He's loving, and most gracious; 'twill be much
Both for your honour better, and your cause;
For, if the trial of the law o'ertake you,
You'll part away disgrac❜d.

Wol.

He tells you rightly.

Q. Kath. Ye tell me what ye wish for both, my

Is this

ruin :

your

Christian counsel? out upon ye!

Heaven is above all yet; there sits a judge,

That no king can corrupt.

Cam.

Your rage mistakes us.

Q. Kath. The more shame for ye 1o; holy men I

thought ye,

Upon my soul, two reverend cardinal virtues :

But cardinal sins, and hollow hearts, I fear ye: Mend them for shame, my lords. Is this your comfort?

The cordial that ye bring a wretched lady?
A woman lost among ye, laugh'd at, scorn'd?
I will not wish ye half my miseries,

I have more charity: But say, I warn'd ye;

9 Weigh out for out-weigh. In Macbeth we have overcome for

come over.

10 If I mistake you, it is by your fault, not mine; for I thought you good.

Take heed, for heaven's sake, take heed, lest at once The burden of my sorrows fall upon ye.

Wol. Madam, this is a mere distraction; You turn the good we offer into envy.

Q. Kath. Ye turn me into nothing: Woe upon ye, And all such false professors! Would ye have me (If you have any justice, any pity;

If ye be any thing but churchmen's habits)

Put my
sick cause into his hands that hates me?
Alas! he has 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 my obedience. What can happen
To me, above this wretchedness? all your studies
Make me a curse like this.

Cam.

Your fears are worse.

Q. Kath. Have I liv'd thus long-(let me speak

myself,

Since virtue finds no friends),—a wife, a true one? A woman (I dare say, without vain-glory),

Never yet branded with suspicion?

Have I with all my full affections

Still met the king? lov'd him next heaven? obey'd him?

Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him 11?
Almost forgot my prayers to content him?
And am I thus rewarded? 'tis not well, lords.
Bring me a constant woman to her husband,
One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure;
And to that woman, when she has done most,
Yet will I add an honour,-a great patience.
Wol. Madam, you wander from the good we
aim at.

Q. Kath. My lord, I dare not make myself so guilty,
11 Served him with superstitious attention.

To give up willingly that noble title

Your master wed me to: nothing but death
Shall e'er divorce my dignities.

Wol.

'Pray, hear me.

Q. Kath. 'Would I had never trod this English

earth,

Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it!

Ye have angels' faces 12, but heaven knows your

hearts.

What will become of me now,

wretched lady? I am the most unhappy woman living.— Alas! poor wenches, where are now your fortunes? [To her Women. Shipwreck'd upon a kingdom, where no pity, No friends, no hope; no kindred weep for me, Almost, no grave allow'd me:-Like the lily, That once was mistress of the field 13, and flourish'd, I'll hang my head, and perish.

Wol.
If your grace
Could but be brought to know, our ends are honest,
You'd feel more comfort: why should we, good lady,
Upon what
cause, wrong you? alas! our places,
The way of our profession is against it;

We are to cure such sorrows, not to sow them.
For goodness' sake, consider what you do;
How you may hurt yourself, ay, utterly

Grow from the king's acquaintance, by this carriage.
The hearts of princes kiss obedience,

So much they love it; but to stubborn spirits,

12 This is an allusion to the old jingle of Angli and Angeli. Thus Nashe in his Anatomy of Absurdity, 1589:- For my part meane to suspend my sentence, and let an author of late memorie be my speaker; who affirmeth that they carry angels in their faces, and devils in their devices.'

13 The lily, lady of the flow'ring field.'

Spenser, F. Q. b. ii. c. vi. st. 16.

They swell, and grow as terrible as storms 14.
I know, you have a gentle, noble temper,
A soul as even as a calm; Pray, think us

Those we profess, peace-makers, friends, and ser

vants.

Cam. Madam, you'll find it so. You wrong your virtues

With these weak women's fears. A noble spirit, As yours was put into you, ever casts

Such doubts, as false coin, from it. The king loves you;

Beware, you lose it not: For us, if you please
To trust us in your business, we are ready
To use our utmost studies in your service.
Q. Kath. Do what ye will, my lords: And, pray,
forgive me,

If I have us'd 15 myself unmannerly;

You know, I am a woman, lacking wit
To make a seemly answer to such persons.
Pray, do my service to his majesty:

He has my heart yet; and shall have my prayers,
While I shall have my life. Come, reverend fathers,
Bestow your counsels on me: she now begs,
That little thought, when she set footing here,
She should have bought her dignities so dear.
[Exeunt.

14 It was one of the charges brought against Lord Essex, in the year before this play was written, by his ungrateful kinsman Sir Francis Bacon, when that nobleman, to the disgrace of humanity, was obliged by a junto of his enemies to kneel at the end of the council table for several hours, that in a letter written during his retirement in 1598 to the lord keeper, he had said, There is no tempest to the passionate indignation of a prince.'

15 Behaved.