Forever from the world. I had my trial.
And must needs say a noble one ; which makes me
A little happier than my wretched father :
Yet thus far we are one in fortunes,— both
Fell by our servants, by those men we lov'd most ;
A most unnatural and faithless service !
Heaven has an end in all ; yet, you that hear me,
This from a dying man receive as cerkiin :
Where you are liberal of your loves and counsels.
Be sure you be not loose* ; for those [t<jo unrestmine.i
you make friends.
And give your hearts to, when they once perceive
The least rub in your fortunes, fall away
Like water from ye, never found again
But where they mean to sink ye. All good
people,
Pray for me ! T nuist now forsake ye ; the last
hoiu-
Of my long weary life is come upon me.
Farewell ; and when you would say something
that is sad.
Speak how I fell.— I have done, and God forgive
me. [Exeunt Buckingham, etc.
\st Gent. O, this is full of i)ity ! Sir, it calls,
I fear, too many curses on their heads
That were the authors.
2nd Gent. If the duke be guiltless,
'Tis full of woe ; yet I can give you inkling
Of an ensuing evil, if it fall,
Greater than this.
\Ht Gent. Good angels keep it from lis !
What may it be? You do not doubt my faith, sir?
2nd Gent. This secret is so weighty, 'twill re-
quire
A strong faith to conceal it.
288
Act II Scene 1
1st Gent. Let me have it :
I do not talk imieh.
2nd Gent. I am confident ;
You shall, sir. Did you not of late days hear
A buzzing of a separation
Between the king and Katherine ?
Ist Gent. Yes, but it held not ;
For when the king once heard it, out of anger
He sent command to the lord mayor straight
To stop the rumour, and allay those tongues
That durst disperse it.
2nd Gent. But that slander, sir,
Is found a truth now ; for it grows again
Fresher than e'er it was, and held for certain
The king will venture at it. Either the car-
dinal.
Or some about him near, have, out of malice
To the good queen, possess'd him with a
scruple
That will undo her : to confirm this, too.
Cardinal Campeius is arriv'd, and lately ;
As all think, for this business.
Is^ Gent. 'Tis the cardinal ;
And merely to revenge him on the emperor
For not bestowing on him, at his asking,
The archbishopric of Toledo, this is purpos'd.
2nd Gent. I think you have hit the mark ; but
is't not cruel
That she should feel the smart of this? The
cardinal
Will have his will, and she must fall.
\st Gent. 'Tis woeful.
We are too open here to argue this ;
Let's think in private more. [^Exeunt.
7 fp 289
Kini^ TTeni'v VTTI
Scene 2.— Ah Aiili'-chainber in the Palace.
Enter the Lord Chamberlain, reading a letter.
Cham. ^ My Lord, — The lioraes your lordship
sent for, icith all the ca re I had, Tftaiv well chosen,
ridden, andfiuviished. They ^vere young and
handsome, and of the best breed in the North.
When they were ready to set out for London, a
man of my lord cardinaVs, by coinmission and
main jnnver, took \'ni from me; with this
reason, — his master would be served before a
subject, if not before the king; which stopped
our mouths, sir.^
I fear he will indeed. Well, let him have them ;
He will have all, I think.
Enter the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk.
Nor. Well met, my lord chamberlain.
Cham: Ciood day to both your graces. .
Suf. How is the king employ'd?
Cham. I left him private,
Full of sad thoughts and troubles.
Nor. What 's the cause ?
Cham. It seems the marriage with his
brother's wife
Has crept too near his conscience.
Suf. No ; his conscience
Has crept too near another lady.
Nor. 'Tis so.
This is the cardinal's doing, the king-cardinal ;
That blind priest, like the eldest son of fortune.
Turns what he list. The king will know him
one day.
Suf. Pray God he do I he '11 never know him-
self else.
Nor. How holily he works in all his business,
390
Act II Scene 2
And with what zeal! for, now he has crack'd
the league
Between us and the emperor, the queen's great
nephew,
He dives into the king's soul, and there scatters
Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience.
Fears and despairs,— and all these for his
marriage.
And out of all these to restore the king,
He counsels a divorce : a loss of her
That like a jewel has hung twenty yeai's
About his neck, yet never lost her lustre ;
Of her that loves him with that excellence
That angels love good men with ; even of her
That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls.
Will bless the king. And is not this course pious?
Chain. Heaven keep me from such counsel!
'Tis most true.
These news are every where ; every tongue
speaks 'em,
And every true heart weeps for 't. All that dare
Look into these affairs see this main end, —
The French king's sister. Heaven will one day
open
The king's eyes, that so long have slept upon
This bold bad man.
Suf. And free us from his slavery.
Nor. We had need pray.
And heartily, for our deliverance.
Or this imperious man will work us all
From princes into pages. All men's honours
Lie like one lump before him, to be fashion'd
Into what pitch* he please. [height of dignity
Suf. For me, my lords,
I love him not, nor fear him ; there 's my creed.
As I am made without him, so I '11 stand,
291
KiiiQf Henrv VIII
Tf thr king please : his curses and his blessings
Touch me alike ; they 're breath I not believe in.
T knew him and I know him ; so I leave him
To him that made him proud, the pope.
Nor. Let's in,
And A\ ith some other business put the king
From these sad thoughts, that work too much
upon him. —
My lord, you '11 bear us company ?
Cham. Excuse me;
The king hath sent me other where : besides.
You '11 find a most imfit time to disturb him.
Health to your lordships.
A'or. Thanks, my good lord chamberlain.
[Ejcit Lord Chaviherlain.
Norfolk dratcs a curtain. The King is dis-
covered sifting, and reading pensively.
Snf. How sad he looks ! sure, he is much
afflicted.
K. Hen. Who is there ? ha !
Nor. Pray God he he not angry 1
K. Hen. Who's there, I say? How dare you
thrust yourselves
Into my private meditations?
Who am T ? ha !
Nor. A gracious king, that pardons all offences
Malice ne'er meant ; our breach of duty this way
Is business of estate, in which we come
To know your royal pleasure.
K. Hen. Ye are too bold.
Go to ; I '11 make ye know your times of business :
Is this an hour for temporal affairs ? ha !
Enter Wolsey and Campeius.
Who's there? my good lord cardinal? O, my
Wolsey,
393
Act II Scene 2
The quiet of my Avounded conscience ;
Thou art a cure fit for a king. — You 're welcome,
[To Carnpeius.
Most learned reverend sir, into our kingdom :
Use us and it. [To Wolsey] My good lord,
have great care
I be not fovind a talker.
Wol. Sir, you cannot.
T would your grace would give us but an hour
Of private conference.
K. Hen. [To Norfolk and Suffolk] We are
busy; go.
Nor. [Aside, as they retire] This priest has no
pride in him.
Suf. Not to speak of ;
1 would not be so sick though for his place.
But this cannot continue.
Nor. If it do,
I '11 venture one have-at-him.
Suf. I another.
[Exeunt Norfolk and Suffolk.
Wol. Your grace has given a precedent of
wisdom
Above all princes, in committing freely
Your scruple to the voice of Christendom.
Who can be angry now ? what envy reach you?
The Spaniard, tied by blood and favour to her,
Must now confess, if they have any goodness,
The trial just and noble. All the clerks,
I mean the learned ones, in (Christian kingdoms
Have their free voices. Rome, the nurse of
judgment.
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.
293
King Henry VIII
K. Hen. And once more in mine arms I bid
him welcome.
And thank the holy conclave for their loves ;
They have sent me such a man I would have
wish'd for.
Cam. Your grace must needs deserve all
strangers' loves,
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 withme their servant
In the unpartial judging of this business.
K. Heyi. Two equal men. The queen shall be
acquainted
Forthwith for what you come.— \Vhere's Gar-
diner?
Wol. I know your majesty has always lov'd her
So dear in heart, not to deny her that
A woman of less jilace might ask by law :
Scholars, allow'd freely to argue for her.
K. Hen. Ay, and the best she shall have ; and
my favour
To him that does best : God forbid else ! Cardinal,
Prithee, call Gardiner to me, my new secretary ;
I find him a fit fellow. {E.cit Wolsey'.
Enter Wolsey, with Gardinei:
Wol. Give me your hand ; much joy and
favoiu" to you :
You are the king's now.
Gard. [Anide to Wolsey] But to be commanded
For ever by your grace, whose hand has rais'dme.
K. Hen. Come hither, Gardiner.
( They tea Ik and whisper.
Cam. My Lord of York, was not one Doctoi- Pace
In this man's place before him ?
Wol. Yes, he was,
994
Act II Scene 3
Cam. Was he not held a learned man ?
Wol. Yes, surely.
Cam. Believe me, there 's an ill opinion spread,
then,
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 griev'd
him
That he ran mad and died.
Wol. Heaven's peace be with him !
That 's Christian care enough ; for living mur-
murers
There 's places of rebuke. He was a fool.
For he would needs be virtuous : that goodfellow.
If I command him, follows my appointment ;
I will have none so near else. Learn this, brother.
We live not to be grip'd by meaner persons.
K. Hen. Deliver this with modesty to the
queen. [Exit Gardiner.
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-
science,
O, 'tis a tender pla..e ! and I must leave her.
[B.veunf.
Scene 3.— An Ante-chamber in the Queen's
Apartments.
Enter Antie Bullen and an Old Lady.
Anne. Not for that neither ; here 's the pang
that pinches :
295
King Henry VIII
His highness having livVl so long with her,
and she
So good a lady, that no tongne could ever
Pionounce dishonour of her, — by my life.
She never knew harm-doing. O, now, after
So many courses of the sun enthron'd,
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 ! it is a pity
AVould move a monster.
Old L. Hearts of most hard temper
Melt and lament for her.
Anne. O, 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.
Aime. So much the more
Must i)ity drop upon her. Verily,
I swear 'tis better to be lowly born.
And range with humble livers in content,
Than to be perk'd* ui)in a glistering grief, [perchd
And wear a golden sorrow.
Old L. Our content
Is our best having.
-i n nc. By my troth and maidenhead,
I would not be a queen.
Old L. Beshrew me, I would,
Andventuremaidenhead for't; andso wouldyou,
For all this spice of your hypocrisy.
You that have so fair parts of A%oman on you,
Have, too, a woman's heart, which ever yet
296
Act II 8ceiie 3
Affected eminence, wealth, sovereignty :
Which, to say sooth, are blessings ; and which
gifts-
Saving your mincing — the capacity
Of your soft cheveril* conscience would ti.e. elastic
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* [bent
would hire me.
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 little :
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 you do talk !
I swear again, I would not be a queen
For all the world.
Old L. In faith, for little England
You'd venture an emballing*: I myself [coronation
Would for Carnarvonshire, although there long'd
No more to the crown but that. Lo, who comes
here?
Enter the Lord Chamberlain.
Cham. Good morrow, ladies. What were't
worth to know
The secret of your conference ?
Anne. My good lord,
297
King Henry VI IT
Not your demand ; it values not your asking.
Our mistress' sorrows we were pitying.
Chavi. 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 !
Cham. You bear a gentle mind, and heavenly
blessings
Follow such creatures. That you may, f.'iir lady,
Perceive I speak sincerely, and high note 's
Ta'en of your many virtues, tlie king's majesty
Commends his good opinion to you, 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
and wishes
Are all I can return. Beseech your lordship.
Vouchsafe to speak my thanks, and my obedience,
As from a bhishing handmaid, to his highness,
Whose health and royalty I pray for,
Cham. Lrfidy,
I shall not fail to approve the fair conceit
The king hath of you. [Aside] I have perus'd
her well :
Beauty and honour in her are so mingled.
That they have caught the king ; and who
knows yet.
But from this lady may proceed a gem
To lighten all this isle ? [To her] I '11 to the king,
And say I spoke with you.
298
Act II Scene 3
A7tne. My honour'd lord.
[Exit Lord Chamberlain.
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, O fate !
A very fresh-fish here, — fie, fie upon
This compell'd fortune I— have your mouth fiil'd
up
Before you open it.
Anne. This is strange to me.
Old L. How tastes it ? is it bitter ? forty pence,
no.
There was a lady once— 'tis an old story—
That would not be a queen, that would she not,
For all the 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-
broke !
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 1 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.
OldL. What do you think me? [Exeunt.
299
Kiiiof Ileiirv VIII
Scene 4.— A Hall in Black-friars.
Trumpets, sennet, and cornets. Enter tivo
Vergers, ivith short silver toayids ; next
them, two Scribes, in the habit of doctors ;
after them, the Archbishop of Canterbury
alone; after him, the Bishops of Lhicoln,
Ely, Rochester, and Saint Asaph; next
them, icith some small distance, follows a
Gentleman bearing the purse, tvith the great
seal, and a cardhiaVs hat ; then txco Priests,
bearing each a silver cj^oss ; then a Gentle-
nuin-Usher bare-headed, accompanied with
a Sergcant-at-Arms, bearing a silver mace;
then two Gentlemen, bearing two great silver
pillars; after them, side by side, the tioo
Cardinals, Wolsey and iJampeius ; two
Noblememvith the sxcord and mace. Then
enter the King icith his train, folloxced by
the Queen ivith hers. The King takes place
under the cloth of state ; the two Cardinals
s^it nnder him as judges. The Queen takes
place at sonie distance from the King. Tlie
Bishops place themselves on each side the
court, in ma7iner of a consistory ; beloio
them, the Scribes. The Lords sit next the
BisJiops. The rest of the Attendants stand
in convenient order about the stage.
}]\)l. Whilst our commission from Rome is
read,
Let silence be commanded.
K. Hen. What 's the need ?
It hath already publicly been read,
And on all sides the authority allow'd ;
You may, then, spare that time.
Wol. Be'tso. Proceed.
300
Act II Scene 4
Scribe. Say, Henry, King of England, come
into the court.
Crier. Henry, King of England, come into the
court.
K. Hen. Here.
Scribe. Say, Katherine, Queen of England,
come into the court.
Crier. Katherine, Queen of England, come
into the court.
{The Queen makes no ansiver, rises out of
her chair, goes about the court, comes
to the King, and kneels at his feet;
then speaks.
Q. Kath. 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 oflF,
And take your good grace from me ? Heaven
witness
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 inclin'd. When was the hour
I ever contradicted your desire.
Or made it not mine too? Or which of your
friends
Have I not strove to love, although I knew
He were mine enemy ? what friend of mine,
That had to him deriv'd your auger, did I
King Henry VIII
Continue in my liking? nay, gave notice
He was from thence discharg'd. 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, was 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 humbly
Beseech you, sir, to spare me, till I may
Be by my friends in Spain advis'd, whose counsel
I will implore ; if not, i' the name of God,
Your pleasure be fulftU'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
For your own quiet as to i-ectify
What is unsettled in the king.
302
Act II Scene 4
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 produc'd and heard.
Q. Kath. Lord cardinal.
To you I speak.
Wol. Your pleasure, madam ?
Q. Kath. Sir,
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.
Q. Kath . I will, when you are humble ; nay,
before.
Or God will punish me. I do believe,
Induc'd 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 wrong ;
I have no spleen against you, nor injustice
For you or any : how far I have proceeded,
303
King ITenry VIII
Or how far further shall, is Avarranted
By a commission from the consistory,
Yea, the whole consistory of Rome. You
charge me
That I have blown this coal ; I do deny it.
The king is present ; if it be known tu him
That I gainsay my deed, how may he woimd,
And worthily, my falsehood ! yea, as much
As you have done iny truth. If he know
That I am free of your report, he knows
1 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
before
His highness shall speak in, I do beseech
You, gracious madam, to unthink your speaking.
And to say so no more.
Q. Kath. My lord, my lord,
I am a simple woman, much too weak
T' oppose your cunning. You're meek and
humble-mouth'd ;
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,
304
Act II Scene 4
And to be judg'd 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.
K. Hen, Call her again.
Crier. Katherine, Queen of England, come
into the court.
Grif. Madam, you are call'd back.
Q. Kath. What need you note it ? pray you,
keep yovir 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 appeai'ance make
In any of their courts.
[Exeunt Queen and her Attendants,
K. Hen. Go thy ways, Kate :
That man i' the world who shall report he has
A better wife, let him in naught 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
bound,
7 U 30s
Kiiiir Henrv VIII
'fi
There must I be unloos'd, although not there
At once and fully satisfied— whether ever I
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 tlianks to God for such
A royal lady, spake ont' the least word that might
Be to the pi'ejudice of her present state,
Or touch of her good person.
K. Hen. 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 ([ueen is put in anger. You 're excus'd ;
]3ut Avill you be more justified? you ever
Have wish'd the sleeping of this business, never
Desir'd it to be stirr'd, but oft have hinder'd, oft,
The passages made toward it. On n\y honour,
I speak my good lord cardinal to this point,