The trial just and noble. All the clerks,
I mean the learned ones, in Christian kingdoms
Have their free voices : Rome, the nurse of judg-
Invited by your noble self, hath sent
One general tongue unto us, this good man,
This just and learned priest, Cardinal Campeius :
Whom once more I present unto your highness.
King. And once more in mine arms I bid him
And thank the holy conclave for their loves :
They have sent me such a man I would have
Cam. Your grace must needs deserve all
You are so noble. To your highness' hand
I tender my commission ; by whose virtue,
The court of Rome commanding, you, my lord
Cardinal of York, are join'd with me their ser-
In the impartial judging of this business.
King. Two equal men. The queen shall be
Forthwith for what you come. Where's Gardiner?
Wol. I know your majesty has always loved her
So dear in heart, not to deny her that
A woman of less place might ask by law :
Scholars allow 'd freely to argue for her.
King. Ay, and the best she shall have ; and my
To him that does best : God forbid else. Cardinal,
Prithee, call Gardiner to me, my new secretary :
I find him a fit fellow. Exit Wolsey.
Re-enter Wolsey, with Gardiner.
Wol. [Aside to Gardiner.^ Give me your hand :
much joy and favour to you ;
You are the king's now.
Gar. [Aside to Wolsey.^ But to be commanded
For ever by your grace, whose hand has raised me.
King. Come hither, Gardiner.
Walks and whispers.
Cam. My Lord of York, was not one Doctor Pace
In this man's place before him ?
Wol. Yes, he was.
Cam. Was he not held a learned man ?
Wol. Yes, surely.
Cam. Believe me, there 's an ill opinion spread
Even of yourself, lord cardinal.
Wol. How ! of me ?
Cam. They will not stick to say you envied him,
And fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous,
Kept him a foreign man still ; which so grieved
That he ran mad and died.
Wol. Heaven's peace be with him !
That 's Christian care enough : for living mur-
There 's places of rebuke. He was a fool ;
For he would needs be virtuous : that good fellow,
If I command him, follows my appointment :
I will have none so near else. Leai-n this, brother,
We live not to be grip'd by meaner persons.
King. Deliver this with modesty to the queen.
The most convenient place that I can think of
For such receipt of learning is Black-Friars ;
There ye shall meet about this weighty business.
My Wolsey, see it furnish'd. O, my lord,
Would it not grieve an able man to leave
So sweet a bedfellow ? But, conscience, con-
O, 'tis a tender place ; and I must leave her.
Scene III. An Ante-chamber of the Queen's
Enter Anne Bullen and an Old Lady.
Anne. Not for that neither : here 's the pang
that pinches :
His highness having lived so long with her, and she
So good a lady that no tongue could ever
Pronounce dishonour of her ; by my life,
She never knew harm-doing : 0, now, after
So many courses of the sun enthroned,
Still growing in a majesty and pomp, the which
To leave a thousand-fold more bitter than
'Tis sweet at first to acquire, after this process,
To give her the avaunt 1 it is a pity
Would move a monster.
Old L. Hearts of most hard temper
Melt and lament for her.
Anne. 0, God's will ! much better
She ne'er had known pomp : though 't be temporal,
Yet, if that quarrel, fortune, do divorce
It from the bearer, 'tis a sufferance panging
As soul and body's severing.
Old L. Alas, poor lady !
She 's a stranger now again.
Anne. So much the more
Must pity drop upon her. Verily,
ACT IL, Sc. 4.
KING HENRY 7 III.
I swear, 'tis better to be lowly born,
And range with humble livers in content,
Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief,
And wear a golden sorrow.
Old L. Our content
Is our best having.
Anne. By my troth and maidenhead,
I would not be a queen.
Old L. Beshrew me, I would,
And venture maidenhead for't; and so would you,
For all this spice of your hypocrisy :
You, that have so fair parts of woman on you,
Have too a woman's heart ; which ever yet
Affected eminence, wealth, sovereignty;
Which, to say sooth, are blessings; and which
Saving your mincing, the capacity
Of your soft cheveril conscience would receive,
If you might please to stretch it.
Anne. Nay, good troth.
Old L. Yes, troth, and troth ; you would not
be a queen ?
Anne. No, not for all the riches under heaven.
Old L. 'Tis strange : a three-pence bow'd would
Old as I am, to queen it : but, I pray you,
What think you of a duchess ? have you limbs
To bear that load of title ?
Anne. No, in truth.
Old L. Then you are weakly made : pluck off a
I would not be a young count in your way,
For more than blushing comes to : if your back
Cannot vouchsafe this burthen, 'tis too weak
Ever to get a boy.
Anne. How yon do talk !
T swear again, I would not be a queen
For all the world.
Old L. In faith, for little England
You 'Id venture an em balling : I myself
Would for Carnarvonshire, although there long'd
No more to the crown but that. Lo, who comes
Enter Lord Chamberlain.
Cha. Good morrow, ladies. What were 't worth
The secret of your conference ?
Anne. My good lord,
Not your demand ; it values not your asking :
Our mistress' sorrows we were pitying.
Cha. It was a gentle business, and becoming
The action of good women : there is hope
All will be well.
Anne. Now, I pray God, amen !
Cha. You bear a gentle mind, and heavenly
Follow such creatures. That you may, fair lady,
Perceive I speak sincerely, and high note 's
Ta'en of your many virtiies, the king's majesty
Commends his good opinion of you to yon, and
Does purpose honour to you no less flowing
Than Marchioness of Pembroke ; to which title
A thousand pound a year, annual support,
Out of his grace he adds.
Anne. I do not know
What kind of my obedience I should tender ;
More than my all is nothing : nor my prayers
Are not words duly hallow'd, nor my wishes
More worth than empty vanities ; yet prayers
Are all 1 can return. Beseech your lordship,
Vouchsafe to speak my thanks and my obedience,
As from a blushing handmaid, to his highness ;
Whose health and royalty I pray for.
I shall not fail to approve the fair conceit
The king hath of you. [Aside.] I have perused
her well ;
Beauty and honour in her are so mingled
That they have caught the king : and who knows
But from this lady may proceed a gem
To lighten all this isle ? I '11 to the king,
And say I spoke with you.
Exit Lord Chamberlain.
Anne. My honour 'd lord.
Old L. Why, this it is ; see, see !
I have been begging sixteen years in court,
Am yet a courtier beggarly, nor could
Come pat betwixt too early and too late
For any suit of pounds ; and you, fate !
A very fresh-fish here fie, fie, fie upon
This compell'd fortune ! have your mouth fill'd
Before you open it.
Anne. This is strange to me.
Old L. How tastes it ? is it bitter ? forty
There was a lady once, 'tis an old story,
That would not be a queen, that would she not,
For all th e mud in Egypt : have you heard it ?
Anne. Come, you are pleasant.
Old L. With your theme, I could
O'ermount the lark. The Marchioness of Pem-
A thousand pounds a year for pure respect !
No other obligation ! By my life,
That promises moe thousands : honour's train
Is longer than his foreskirt. By this time
I know your back will bear a duchess : say,
Are you not stronger than you were ?
Anne. Good lady,
Make yourself mirth with your particular fancy,
And leave me out on 't. Would I had no being,
If this salute my blood a jot : it faints me,
To think what follows.
The queen is comfortless, and we forgetful
In our long absence : pray, do not deliver
What here you 've heard to her.
Old L. What do you think me ?
Scene IV. A Hall in Black-Friars.
Trumpets, sennet and cornets. Enter two Ver-
gers, with short silver wands ; next them, two
Scribes, in the habit of doctors ; after them,
the Archbishop of Canterbury alone ; after
him, the Bishops of Lincoln, Ely, Rochester
and Saint Asaph ; next them, with some small
distance, follows a Gentleman bearing the
purse, with the great seal, and a cardinal's
hat; then two Priexts, bearing each a stiver
cross; then a Gentleman -usher bareheaded,
accompanied with a Sergeant-at-arms bearing
a silver mace; then two Gentlemen bearing
two great silver pillars; after them, side by
side, the two Cardinals; two Noblemen with
KING HENRY VIII.
ACT II., Sc. 4.
the sword and mace. The King takes place
under the cloth of state. The two Cardinals
sit under him as judges. The Queen takes
place some distance from the King. The
Bishops place themselves on each side the
court, in manner of a consistory. Below them,
the Scribes. The Lords sit next the Bishops.
The rest of the Attendants stand in convenient
order about the stage.
Wol. Whilst our commission from Rome is read,
Let silence be commanded.
King. What 's the need ?
It hath already publicly been read,
And on all sides the authority allow 5 d ;
You may, then, spare that time.
Wol. Be 't so. Proceed.
Scribe. Say, Henry King of England, come
into the court.
Crier. Henry King of England, &c.
Scribe. Say, Katharine Queen of England,
come into the court.
Crier. Katharine Queen of England, &c.
The Queen makes no ansiver, rises out of
her chair, goes about the court, comes to
the King and kneels at his feet; then
Que. Sir, I desire you do me right and justice ;
And to bestow your pity on me : for
I am a most poor woman, and a stranger,
Born out of your dominions ; having here
No judge indifferent, nor no more assurance
Of equal friendship and proceeding, Alas, sir,
In what have I offended you ? what cause
Hath my behaviour given to your displeasure,
That thus you should proceed to put me off,
And take your good grace from me ? Heaven
I have been to you a true and humble wife,
At all times to your will conformable ;
Ever in fear to kindle your dislike,
Yea, subject to your countenance, glad or sorry
As I saw it inclined : when was the hour
I ever contradicted your desire,
Or made it not mine too? Or which of your
Have I not strove to love, although I knew
He were mine enemy ? what friend of mine
That had to him derived your anger, did I
Continue in my liking ? nay, gave notice
He was from thence discharged ? Sir, call to mind
That I have been your wife, in this obedience,
Upward of twenty years, and have been blest
With many children by you : if, in the course
And process of this time, you can report,
And prove it too, against mine honour aught,
My bond to wedlock, or my love and duty,
Against your sacred person, in God's name,
Turn me away ; and let the foul'st contempt
Shut door upon me, and so give me up
To the sharp'st kind of justice. Please you, sir,
The king, your father, Avas reputed for
A prince most prudent, of an excellent
And unmatch'd wit and judgment : Ferdinand,
My father, King of Spain, was reckon'd one
The wisest prince that there had reign' d by many
A year before : it is not to be question 'd
That they had gather 'd a wise council to them
Of every realm, that did debate this business,
Who deem'd our marriage lawful : wherefore I
Beseech you, sir, to spare me, till I may
Be by my friends in Spain advised ; whose counsel
I will implore : if not, i' the name of God,
Your pleasure be fulfill' d !
Wol. You have here, lady,
And of your choice, these reverend fathers ; men
Of singular integrity and learning,
Yea, the elect o' the land, who are assembled
To plead your cause : it shall be therefore bootless
That longer you desire the court ; as well
Tor your own quiet, as to rectify
What is unsettled in the king.
Cam. His grace
Hath spoken well and justly : therefore, madam,
It 's fit this royal session do proceed ;
And that, without delay, their arguments
Be now produced and heard.
Que. Lord cardinal,
To you I speak.
Wol. Your pleasure, madam ?
I am about to weep ; but, thinking that
We are a queen, or long have dream'd so, certain
The daughter of a king, my drops of tears
I '11 turn to sparks of fire.
Wol. Be patient yet.
Que. I will, when you are humble ; nay, before,
Or God will punish me. I do believe,
Induced by potent circumstances, that
You are mine enemy, and make my challenge
You shall not be my judge : for it is you
Have blown this coal betwixt my lord and me ;
Which God's dew quench ! Therefore I say again,
I utterly abhor, yea, from my soul
Refuse you for my judge ; whom, yet once more,
I hold my most malicious foe, and think not
At all a friend to truth.
Wol. I do profess
You speak not like yourself ; who ever yet
Have stood to charity, and display'd the effects
Of disposition gentle, and of wisdom
O'ertopping woman's power. Madam, you do me
I have no spleen against you ; nor injustice
For you or any : how far I have proceeded,
Or how far further shall, is warranted
By a commission from the consistory,
Yea, the whole consistory of Rome. You charge
That I have blown this coal : I do deny it :
The king is present : if it be known to him
That I gainsay my deed, how may he wound,
And worthily, my falsehood ! yea, as much
As you have done my truth. If he know
That I am free of your report, he knows
I am not of your wrong. Therefore in him
It lies to cure me : and the cure is, to
Remove these thoughts from you : the which be-
His highness shall speak in, I do beseech
You, gracious madam, to unthink your speaking
And to say so no more.
Que. My lord, my lord,
I am a simple woman, much too weak
To oppose your cunning. You 're meek and
humble-mouth' d ;
ACT II., Sc. 4.
KING HENRY VIII.
You sign your place and calling, in full seeming,
With meekness and humility ; "but your heart
Is cramm'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride.
You have, by fortune and his highness' favours,
Gone slightly o'er low steps and now are mounted
Where powers are your retainers, and your words,
Domestics to you, serve your will as 't please
Yourself pronounce their office. I must tell you,
You tender more your person's honour than
Your high profession spiritual : that again
I do refuse you for my judge ; and here,
Before you all, appeal unto the pope,
To bring my whole cause 'fore his holiness,
And to be judged by him.
She curtsies to the King, and offers to depart.
Cam. The queen is obstinate,
Stubborn to justice, apt to accuse it, and
Disdainful to be tried by 't : 'tis not well.
She 's going away.
King. Call her again.
Crier. Katharine Queen of England, come into
Gri. Madam, you are call'd back.
Que. What need you note it ? pray you, keep
your way :
When you are call'd, return. Now, the Lord help,
They vex me past my patience ! Pray you, pass on :
I will not tarry ; no, nor ever more
Upon this business my appearance make
In any of their courts.
Exeunt Queen, and her Attendants.
King. Go thy ways, Kate :
That man i' the world who shall report he has
A better wife, let him in nought be trusted,
For speaking false in that: thou art, alone,
If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness,
Thy meekness saint -like, wife-like government,
Obeying in commanding, and thy parts
Sovereign and pious else, could speak thee out,
The queen of earthly queens : she 's noble born ;
And, like her true nobility, she has
Carried herself towards me.
Wol. Most gracious sir,
In humblest manner I require your highness,
That it shall please you to declare, in hearing
Of all these ears, for where I am robb'd and
There must I be unloosed, although not there
At once and fully satisfied, whether ever 1
Did broach this business to your highness ; or
Laid any scruple in your way, which might
Induce you to the question on 't ? or ever
Have to you, but with thanks to God for such
A royal lady, spake one the least word that might
Be to the prejudice of her present state,
Or touch of her good person ?
King. My lord cardinal,
I do excuse you; yea., upon mine honour,
I free you from 't. You are not to be taught
That you have many enemies, that know not
Why they are so, but, like to village-curs,
Bark when their fellows do : by some of these
The queen is put in anger. You 're excused :
But will you be more justified ? you ever
Have wish'd the sleeping of this business ; never
It to be stirr'd; but oft have hinder'd, oft,
The passages made toward it : on my honour,
I speak my good lord cardinal to this point,
And thus far clear him. Now, what moved me
I will be bold with time and your attention :
Then mark the inducement. Thus it came ; give
heed to 't :
My conscience first received a tenderness,
Scruple, and prick, on certain speeches utter'd
By the Bishop of Bayonne, then French ambas-
Who had been hither sent on the debating
A marriage 'twixt the Duke of Orleans and
Our daughter Mary : i' the progress of this busi-
Ere a determinate resolution, he,
I mean the bishop, did require a respite ;
Wherein he might the king his lord advertise
Whether our daughter were legitimate,
Kespecting this our marriage with the dowager.
Sometimes our brother's wife. This respite shook
The bosom of my conscience, enter 'd me,
Yea, with a splitting power, and made to tremble
The region of my breast ; which forced such way,
That many mazed considerings did throng
And press' d in with this caution. First, methought
I stood not in the smile of heaven ; who had
Commanded nature, that my lady's womb,
If it conceived a male child by me, should
Do no more offices of life to 't than
The grave does to the dead ; for her male issue
Or died where they were made, or shortly after
This world had air' d them : hence I took a thought,
This was a judgment on me ; that my kingdom,
Well worthy the best heir o' the world, should not
Be gladded in 't by me : then follows, that
I weigh' d the danger which my realms stood in
By this my issue's fail ; and that gave to me
Many a groaning throe. Thus hulling in
The wild sea of my conscience, I did steer
Toward this remedy, whereupon we are
Now present here together ; that 's to say,
I meant to rectify my conscience, 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 moved you.
Lin. Very well, my liege.
King. I have spoke long : be pleased yourself
How far you satisfied me.
Lin. So please your highness,
The question did at first so stagger me,
Bearing a state of mighty moment in 't
And consequence of dread, that I committed
The daring'st counsel which I had to doubt ;
And did entreat your highness to this course
Which you are running here.
King. I then moved you,
My Lord of Canterbury ; and got your leave
To make this present summons : unsolicited
I left no reverend person in this court ;
But by particular consent proceeded
Under your hands and seals : therefore, go on ;
For no dislike i' the world against the person
Of the good queen, but the sharp thorny points
Of my alleged reasons, drive this forward :
Prove but our marriage lawful, by my life
And kingly dignity, we are contented
KING HENRY VIII.
ACT III., Sc. 1.
To wear our mortal state to come with her,
Katharine our queen, before the primest creature
That 's paragon'd o' the world.
Cam. So please your highness,
The queen being absent, 'tis a needful fitness
That we adjourn this court till further day :
Meanwhile must be an earnest motion
Made to the queen, to call back her appeal
She intends unto his holiness.
King. \_AsideJ] I may perceive
These cardinals trifle with me : I abhor
This dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome.
My learn'd and well-beloved servant, Cranmer,
Prithee, return : with thy approach, I know,
My comfort comes along. Break up the court :
I say, set on. Exeunt in manner as they entered.
Scene L London. The Queen's Apartments.
Enter the Queen and her Women, as at work.
Que. Take thy lute, wench : my soul grows sad
with troubles ;
Sing, and disperse 'em, if thou canst : leave
Orpheus with his lute made trees,
And the mountain tops that freeze,
Bow themselves rvhen he did sing :
To his music plants and flowers
Ever sprung ; 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 sweet music is such art,
Killing care and grief of heart
Fall asleep, or hearing, die.
Enter a Gentleman.
Que. How now !
Gen. An 't please your grace, the two great
Wait in the presence.
gue. Would they speak with me ?
en. They will'd me say so, madam.
Que. Pray their graces
To come near. [Exit Gentleman.'] What can be
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 as
But all hoods make not monks.
Enter the two Cardinals, Wolsey and Campeius.
Wol. Peace to your highness !
Que. Your graces find me here part of a house-
I would be all, against the worst may happen.
What are your pleasures with me, reverend lords ?
Wol. May it please you, noble madam, to with-
Into your private chamber, we shall give you
The full cause of our coming.
Que. Speak it here :
There 's nothing I have done yet, o' my conscience,
Deserves a corner : would all other women
Could speak this with as free a soul as I do !
My lords, I care not, so much I am happy
Above a number, if my actions
Were tried by every tongue, every eye saw 'em,
Envy and base opinion set against 'em,
I .know my life so even. If your business
Seek me out, and that way I am wife in,
Out with it boldly : truth loves open dealing.
Wol. Tanta est erga te mentis integritas, regina
Que. 0, good my lord, no Latin ;
I am not such a truant since my coming,
As not to know the language I have lived in :
A strange tongue makes my cause more strange,
Pray, speak in English : here are some will thank
If you speak truth, for their poor mistress' sake ;
Believe me, she has had much wrong : lord car-
The willing' st sin I ever yet committed
May be absolved in English.
Wol. Noble lady,
I am sorry my integrity should breed,
And service to his majesty and you,
So deep suspicion, where all faith was meant.
We come not by the way of accusation,
To taint that honour every good tongue blesses,
Nor to betray you any way to sorrow,
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 our 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.
Que. [Aside. ] To betray me.
My lords, I thank you both for your good wills ;
Ye speak like honest men ; pray God, ye prove so !
But how to make ye 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, 1 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.
Que. 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,
And live a subject ? Nay, forsooth, my friends,
They that must weigh out my afflictions,
They that my trust must grow to, live not here :
ACT III., Sc. 2.
KING HENRY VIII.
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.