Fall into the compass of ?i prccnimiiri', —
That therefore such a writ be su'd against you ;
To forfeit all your goods, lands, tenements,
Chattels, and whatsoever, and to be
Out of the king's protection : — this is my charge.
Nor. And so we'll leave you to your meditations
How to live better. For your stubborn answer
About the giving back the great seal to us.
The king shall know it, and, no doubt, shall thank you.
So fare you well, my little-good lord cardinal.
\ Exeunt all I xct-pt Wohey
Wol. So farewell to the little good you bear me.
Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness!
This is the state of man : to-day he jiuts ft)rii^
The tender leaves of hojie ; to-morrow blossoms.
And bears his blushing honors thick unon him;
The third dav comes a frost, a killing frost.
And — when he thinks, good easy man. full surely
His greatness is a-rijiening — ni|)s his root.
And then he falls, as I do. I have ventur'd.
Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders.
This manv summers in a sea of glor)- :
But far bevond my depth : my high-blown jnide
At length broke under tiie ; and now has left me.
Weary and old with service, to the mercy
K.H.VIII. 59.] VII. 3IX.
A£^1II.'\ KIXG HEXRY THE EIGHTH. {Scetull,
Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye:
I feel my heart new open'd. O how wretched
Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favors I
There is. betwixt that smile we would aspire to.
That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin.
More pangs and fears than wars or women have;
And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,
Never to hope again.
Enter Cromwell, amasedly.
Why, how now, Cromwell !
Crom. I have no power to speak, sir.
Wol. What, amaz'd
At my misfortunes ? can thy spirit wonder
A great man should decline 1 Nay, an you weep,
I'm fall'n indeed.
Croni. How does vour grace }
IVoL ' Why, well;
Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell.
I know m\self now ; and I feel within me
A peace above all earthly dignities,
A still and quiet conscience. The king has cur'd me,.
I humbly thank his grace ; and from these shoulders.
These ruin'd pillars, out of pity, taken
A load would sink a navy,— too much honor:
O 'tis a burden, Cromwell, 'tis a burden
Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven !
Crom. I'm glad your grace has made that right use ol:
it.
IVol. I hope I have : I'm able now, methinks —
Out of a fortitude of soul I feel —
T' endure more miseries and greater far
Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer. —
What news abroad }
Crom. The heaviest and the worst
Is your displeasure with the king.
IVol. God bless him !
Crom. The next is, that Sir Thomas More is chosen
Lord chancellor in your place.
IVoi. That's somewhat sudden :
But he's a learned man. May he continue
Vn. ^12. (k.h.viii. 6q
/ict ///.] KING HEXRY THE EICHTH. [u,m,//.
Lon<^ in his highness* favor, and do justice
F(;r truth's sake and his conscience; that his bones,
When he has run his course and sleeps in blessings.
May have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on 'em ! —
Wiiat more?
Crom. That Cranmer is return'd with welcome,
Instali'd lord archbishoj) of Canterbury.
IVol. That's news indeed.
Crom. Last, that the Lady Anne,
Whom the king hath in secrecy long married,
This day was view'd in open as his queen,
Only about her coronation.
\VoL There was the weight that pull'd me down. O
Cromwell,
The king has gone beyond me : all my glories
In that one woman I have lost for ever :
No sun shall ever usher forth mine honors,
Or gild again the noble troojis that waited
Upon my smiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell ;
I am a poor falTn man, unworthy now
To be thy lord and master : seek the king;
That sun, I pray, may never set I I've told him
What and how true thou art: he will advance thee;
Some little memory of me will stir him —
I know his noble nature — not to let
Thy hopeful service perish too : good Cromwell,
Neglect him not ; make use now, and jirovide
For thine own future safety.
Crom. O my lord,
Must L then, leave you ? must 1 needs forego
So good, so noble, and so true a master?
Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron.
With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord.
The king shall have my service; but my prayers
For ever and for ever shall be vours.
U\)/. Cromwell, I did not tliink to shed a tear
In allmv miseries; but thou hast forc'd me,
Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman.
Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me. Cromwell;
And — when I am forgotten, as I shall be,
And sleep in dull cold mar!)le. where no mention
K.H.vin. 6i.] VII. 313.
Aci/y.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [Scent L
Of me more must be heard of — say, I taught thee.
Say, Wolsey — that once trod the ways of glory,
And sounded all the depths and shoals of honor —
Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in ;
A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it.
Mark but my fall, and that that ruin'd me.
Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition :
By that sin fell the angels ; how can man, ther,
The image of his Maker, hope to win by't ?
Love thyself last ; cherish those hearts that hate thee ;
Corruption wins not more than honesty.
Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace,
To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not :
Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's,
Thy God's, and truth's : then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell,
Thou fall'st a blessed martyr. Serve the king;
And, — prithee, lead me in :
There take an inventory of all I have,
To the last penny ; 'tis the king's : my robe.
And my integrity to heaven, is all
I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell !
Had I but serv'd my God with half the zeal
I serv'd my king, he would not in mine age
Have left me naked to mine enemies.
Cro})i. Good sir, have patience.
Wol. So I have. Farewell
The hopes of court ! my hopes in heaven do dwell.
ACT IV.
Scene L A street in Westminster,
Enter two Gentlemen, meeting.
First Gent. You're well met once again.
Sec. Gent. So are you.
First Gent. You come to take your stand here, and
behold
The Lady Anne pass from her coronation ?
Sec. Gent. 'Tis all my business. At our last encounter
The Duke of Buckingham came from his trial.
VII. 314. [k.h.viii. 63,
Act //'.] KING HEXRV THE FIGHTlf. {5./«
First Goii. 'Tis vt-ry true; hut that time offcr'd
sorrow ;
This, general joy.
Sec. Gent. 'Tis well : the citizens,
I'm sure, have shown at full their royal minds —
As, let 'em have their righls, they're' ever forward —
In celebration of this day with shows,
Pageants, and sights of honor.
First Gent. Never greater,
Nor, I'll assure you, better taken, sir.
Sec. Gent. Alay I be bold to ask what that contains.
That paper in your hand }
First Gent. Yes ; 'tis the list
Of those that claim their offices this day
By custom of the coronation.
The Duke of Suffolk is the fust, and claims
To be high-steward ; next, the Duke of Norfolk,
He to be earl marshal : you may read the rest.
Sec. Gent. I thank you, sir: had 1 not known those
customs,
I should have been beholding to your pa|)er.
But, I beseech you, what's become of Katharine,
The princess dowager } how goes her business?
First Gent. That I can tell you too. The archbishop
Of Canterbury, accompanied with other
Learned and reverend fathers of his order.
Held a late court at Dunstable, six miles off
From Ampthill, where the princess lay ; to which
She was often cited by them, but ap|)ear'd not:
And, to be short, for not appearance and
The king's late scruple, by the main assent
Of all these learned men she was divorc'd.
And the late marriage made of none effect :
Since which she was remov'd to Kimbolton,
Where she remains now sick.
Sec. Gent. Alas, good ladv ! —
f Trumpets.
The trumpets sound : stand close, the queen is coming.
K.H.vm. 63 T VTI. 315.
Aa/y.} KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. {Scene I
THE ORDER OF THE PROCESSION.
A lively flourish of trumpets. Then enter^
1. Two ]\xdgts.
2. Lord Chancellor, with the purse and mace before hi7n.
3. Choristers, singing. [Music.
4. Mayor of London, bearifig the mace. The?i Garter,
in his coat of arms, and o?i his head a gilt copper
crown.
5. Marquess DORSET, beari?ig a scepter of gold, on his
head a demi-coronal of gold. With hijn, the
Earl of Surrey, bearing the rod of silver with
the dove, crowned with an earl's coronet. Col-
lars of SS.
6. Duke of Suffolk, in his robe of estate, his coronet on
his head, bearing a long white wand, as high'
steward. With him, ///^"Duke of NORFOLK, with
the rod of inarshalsJiip, a coronet 07i his head.
Collars of SS.
7. A canopy borne by four of the Cinque-ports ; under
it, the Queen in her robe ; her hair richly
adorned with pearl, crowned. On each side of
her, the Bishops of London a7td Winchester.
8. The old Duchess of Norfolk, in a coronal of gold,
wrought with flowers, beari?ig ///,? Queen's train.
9. Certain Ladies or Countesses, with plain circlets of
gold without flowers.
A royal train, believe me. — These I know: —
Who's that that bears the scepter.^
First Gent. Marquess Dorset :
And that the Earl of Surrey, with the rod.
Sec. Gent. A bold brave gentleman, — That should be
The Duke of Suffolk ?
First Gent. 'Tis the same, — high-steward.
Sec. Gent. And tl>at my Lord of Norfolk.^
First Gent. Yes.
Sec. Gent, {looking on the Queen] Heaven bless thee !
Thou hast the sweetest face I ever look'd on. —
Sir, as I have a soul, she is an angel ;
Oui king has all the Indies in his arms,
VIL 316. (k.h.viii. €4.
A ct I V.I KING HEXR } ' TJ/E EI Gil ///. j.o < /.^ /.
And more and richer, when he strains thai lady ;
I cannot blame his conscience.
First Gt-nf. Tliey that bear
The cloth of honor o'er her are four barons
Of the Cinque-ports.
Sec. Gent. Those men are happy ; and so arc all are
near her.
I take it, she that carries up the train
Is that old noble lady, Duchess of Norfolk.
First Gent. It is ; and all the rest are countesses.
Sec. Gent. Their coronets say so. These are stars m-
deed.
First Gent. And sometimes falling ones.
Sec. Gent. No more of that.
[^Exit procession, ivith a great Jlourish of trumpets.
Enter a third Gentleman,
First Gent. God save you, sir i where have you btcn
broiling ?
Third Gent. Among the crowd i' th' abbey ; where a
finger
Could not be wedg'd in more : I am stilled
With the mere rankness of their joy.
Sec. Gent. You saw
The ceremony ?
Third Gent. That I did.
First Gent. How was it r
Third Gent. Well woi'th the seeing.
Sec. Gent. Good sir. sjieak it to iifi
Third Gent. As well as 1 am able. The rich slicain
Of lords and ladies, having brought the queen
To a prepar'd i)lace in the choir, fell off
A distance from her ; while her grace sat down
To rest awhile, some half an hour or so.
In a rich chair of state, opposing freely
The beauty of her person to the people.
Believe me. sir. she is the goodliest woman
That ever lay by man : which when the people
Had the full'view of, such a noise arose
As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest.
As loud, and to as many tunes : hats. cK)aks. —
Doublets, I think,— flew up ; and had their faces
K.H.vni. 65.1 VII. .^17.
Act/y.] KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. [Scene/-
Eeen loose, this day they had been lost. Such joy
I never saw before. Great-bellied women,
That had not half a week to go, like rams
In the old time of war, would shake the press.
And make 'em reel before 'em. No man living
Could say, " This is my wife," there ; all were woven
So strangely in one piece.
St'c. Gent. But what follow'd ?
Third Gent. At length her grace rose, and with
modest paces
Came to the ait'^r; where she kneel'd, and, saintlike.
Case her fair eyes to heaven, and pray'd devoutly:
Then rose again and bow'd her to the people :
When by the archbishop of Canterbury
She had all the royal makings of a queen ;
As, holy oil, Edward Confessor's crown,
The rod, and bird of peace, and all such emblems.
Laid nobly on her : which perform'd, the choir.
With all the choicest music of the kingdom.
Together sung Te Deiim. So she parted,
And with the same full state pac'd back again
To York-place, where the feast is held.
First Gent. Sir,
You must no more call it York-place, that's past ;
Tor, since the cardinal fell, that title's lost :
'Tis now the king's, and call'd Whitehall.
Third Gent. I know it;
But 'tis so lately alter'd, that th' old name
Is fresh about me.
Sec. Gent. What two reverend bishops
Where those that went on each side of the queen ?
Third Gent. Stokesley and Gardiner ; the one of Winn
Chester,
Newly preferr'd from the king's secretary;
The other, London.
Sec. Gent. He of Winchester
Is held no great good lover of th' archbishop's,
The virtuous Cranmer.
Third Gent. All the land knows that :
However, yet there's no great breach ; when't comes,
Cranmer will find a friend will not shrink from him.
^ec. Gent. Who may that be, I pray you ?
VII. 318. [k.h.viii. 66
A ct 1 r.] KING HENR J " THE EUJI TJ/. [S<4H4 It.
Third Gent. Tlujiiias Cromwell ;
A man in much esteem with the king, and truly
A wortliy friend. The king
Has made him master o' the jewel-house,
And one, already, of the privy-council.
Sec. Gent. He will deserve more.
Third Gent. Yes, without all doubt.-
Come, gentlemen, ye shall go my wav, which
Is to the court, and there ye shall be 'my guests •
Something I can command. As I walk thither,
I'll tell ye more.
Both. You may command us, sir. \E.xeunt.
Scene H. Kimbolton.
Enter Kathari1:JE, do7i'ao-er, sick; led between GRIF-
FITH aiid Patience.
Grif. How does your grace }
Ka'th. O Griffith, sick to death!
My legs, like loaden branches, bow to the earth,
Willing to leave their burden. Reach a chair : —
So, — now, methinks, I feel a little ease.
Didst thou not tell me, Griffilh. as thou ledd'st me.
That the great child of honor. Cardinal Wolsey,
Was dead .'*
Grif. Yes, madam ; but I think your grace,
Out of the pain you suffer'd. gave no ear to't.
Kath. Prithee, good Griflilh. tell me how he died :
If well, he stepp'd before me, hapi)ily,
For my example.
Grif. Well, the voice goes, madam :
For after the stout Earl Northumberland
Arrested him at York, and brought him forward —
As a man sorely tainted — to his answer.
He fell sick suddenly, and grew so ill
He could not sit his mule.
Kath. Alas, poor man.
Grif. At last, with easy roads, he canu- to Leicesiei;.
Lodg'd in the abbey, where the reverend abbot.
With all his covent, honorably receiv'd him :
To whom he gave these words.— " O father abbot.
An old man, broken with the storms of state,
K.H.VIII.67.] VII. 3W.
Hc^/r.] KIXG HEXRY THE EIGHTH. ' iScene !i.
Is come to lay his weary bones among ye ;
Give him a Httle earth for charity ! "
•So went to bed ; where eagerly his sickness
Pursu'd him still : and, three nights after this,
After the hour of eight, — which he himself
Foretold should be his last, — full of repentance.
Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows,
He gave his honors to the world again,
His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace.
Kath. So may he rest ; his faults lie gently on him!
Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak him,
And yet with charity. He was a man
Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking
Himself with princes ; one that by suggestion
Tith'd all the kingdom : simony was fair-play,
His own opinion was his law: i' the presence
He would say untruths ; and be ever double
Both in his words and meaning : he was never.
But where he meant to ruin, pitiful :
His promises were, as he then was, mighty ;
But his performance, as he is now, nothing :
Of his own body he ^^■as ill, and gave
The clergy ill example.
Grif. Noble madam.
Men's evil manners live in brass ; their virtues
We write in w^ater. May it please your highness
To hear me speak his good now .'*
Kath, ^ ^ Yes, good Griffith ;
I were malicious else.
Grif. This cardinal,
Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly
Was fashion'd to much honor from his cradle.
He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one ;
Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and persuading:
Lofty and sour to them that lov'd him not ;
But to those men that sought him sweet as summer
And though he were unsatisfied in getting, —
Which was a sin, — yet in bestowing, madam,
He was most princely : ever witness for him
Those twins of learning that he rais'd in you,
Ipswich and Oxford ! one of which fell with him.
Unwilling to outlive the good that did it;
VII. 320. [K.H.VI11. 68
Aci /K] KING HEXRY THE EICHTH. \S<*nt H,
The Other, though unfinish'd, yet so famous.
So excellent in art, and still so risiM<^,
That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.
His overthrow heap'd hai)piness uj^on him ;
For then, and not till then, he felt himself,
And found the blessedness of being little:
And, to add greater honors to his age
Than man could give him, he died fearing God.
Kath. After my death I wish no other herald.
No other speaker of my living actions.
To keep mine honor from corruption.
But such an honest chronicler as Griffith.
Whom I most hated living, thou hast made me.
With thy religious truth and modesty,
Now in his ashes honor : peace be with him ! —
Patience, be near me still ; and set me lower :
I have not long to trouble thee. — Good Griffith,
Cause the musicians play me that sad note
I nam'd my knell, whilst I sit meditating
On that celestial harmony I go to. \Sad and solemn music.
Grif. She is asleep : good wench, let's sit down quiet,
Tor fear we wake her : — softly, gentle Patience.
The vision. Enter, solemnly trippim^ one after
another, six personages elad in i^'hite robes, ivear-
ing on their heads garlands of bays, and golden
visards on their faees ; branehes of bays or palm in
their hands. They first congee unto her, then dance ;
and, at certain cha?iges, the first two hold a spare
garland over her head ; at ivhieh the other four
make reverent courtesies ; then the tii'o that held the
garland deliver the same to the other next tico, who
observe the same order in their changes, and hold-
ing the garland over her head: which done, they
deliver the same garland to the last two, "who like-
wise observe the same order ; at which {iis it were
by inspiration) she makes in her sleep signs of /r-
joici7ig, and holdeth up her hands to heaven : anti
so in their dancing they vanish, carrying the gar*
lands with them. The music continues.
Kath. Spirits of peace, where are ye.> are ye all gone.
And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye?
K.H.V111.69.] VII. 3««.
act/y.} KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. \,Scent ii,
Grif\ Madam, we're here.
Kath. It is not you I call for :
Saw ye none enter since I slept ?
Grif. None, madam.
Kath, No } Saw you not, even now, a blessed troop
Invite me to a banquet ; whose bright faces
Cast thousand beams upon me, like the sun ?
They promis'd me eternal happiness ;
And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel
I am not worthy yet to wear : I shall.
Assuredly.
Grif. I am most joyful, madam, such good dreams
Possess your fancy.
Kath. Bid the music leave;
They're harsh and heavy to me. \Miisic ce^^ses.
Pat. [aside to G)'if.'\ Do you note
How much her grace is alter'd on the sudden }
How long her face is drawn ? how pale she looks,
And of an earthy color } Mark her eyes !
Grif. [aside to Pat. ^ She's going, wench : pray, pray.
Pat. [aside to Grzf.\ Heaven comfort her!
Efiter a Messenger.
Mess. An't like your grace, —
Kath. You are a saucy fellow :
Deserve we no more reverence ?
Grif. You're to blame.
Knowing she will not lose her wonted greatness.
To use so rude behavior: go to, kneel.
Mess. I humbly do entreat your highness' pardon ;
Vl\ haste made me unmannerly. There's staying
A gentleman, sent from the king, to see you.
Kath. Admit him entrance, Griffith : but this fellow
Let me ne'er see again. [Exeunt Griffith and Messejtger,
Re-enter GRIFFITH luith CapuCIUS.
If my sight fail not,
You should be lord ambassador from th' emperor.
My royal nephew, and your name Capucius.
Cap. Madam, the same, — your servant.
Kath. O my lord,
The times and titles now are alter'd strangely
VII. 322- [K.H.V111. 7a
Act Ik'.} KING HEXRY THE EIGHTH. I'Urmr/i,
With me since fiibt you knew nie. liut, I [K'dv yuu.
What is your pleasure with me?
>''/• . Xc^hlclady,
First, nnne own service to your grace ; the next.
The king's request that I would visit you ;
Who grieves much for your weakness, and by nie
Sends you his princely commendations,
An(l heartily entreats you take good comfort.
A'a///. O my good lord, that comfort comes loo *atc;
'Tis like a pardon after execution :
That gentle physic, given in time, had cur'd me ;
But now I'm past 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 shall dwell with worms, and my poor name
Banish'd the kingdom! — Patience, is that letter,
I caus'd you write, yet sent away ?
Pat. No, madam.
\Givnii![ it to Katharine,
Kath. Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliver
This to my lord the king; —
Cap. Most willing, madam.
Kath. In which I have commended to his goodness
The model of our chaste loves, his young daughter, —
The dews of heaven fall thick in blessings on her ! —
Beseeching him to give her virtuous breeding; —
She's young, and of a noble modest nature ;
I hope she will deserve well ; — and a little
To love her for her mother's sake, that lov'd him.
Heaven knows how dearly. My next j)oor j)etitioa
Is. that his noble grace would have some pity
Upon my wretched women, that so long
Have follow'd both my fortunes faithfully:
Of which there is not one, I dare avow, —
And now I should not lie, — but will desrrvc.
For virtue and true beauty of the soul.
For honesty and decent carriage,
A right good husband, let him be a nolile ;
And, sure, those men are hapj)y that shall have 'cm.
The last is, for my men ; — they are the poorest.
But poverty could never draw 'cm from me ; —
«.H.vin. 71.] VII. 3J3.
.
That they may have their wages duly paid *em.
And something over, to remember me by :
If heaven had pleas'd t' 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 wish Christian peace to souls 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 lose the fashion of a man !
Katli. I thank you, honest lord. Remember me
In all humility unto his highness:
Say his long trouble now is passing
Out of this world ; tell him, in death I bless'd him.
For so 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'm dead, good wench,
Let me be us'd with honor : strew me over
With maiden flowers, that all the world may know
I was a chaste wife to ni)' grave : embalm me.
Then lay me forth ; although unqueen'd, yet like
A queen, and daughter to a king, inter me.
I can no more. \Exetint, leading Kat/iarz7te,
ACT V.
Scene I. Lojidon, A gallery i7i the palace.
Enter GARDINER, bishop of Winchester, a Page with a
torch before him.
Card, It's one o'clock, boy, is't not.^
Boy, It hath struck.
Card. These should be hours for necessities.
Not for delights ; times to repair our nature
With comforting repose, and not for us
To waste these times.
E?iter Sir Thomas Lovell.
Whither so late ?
Good hour of night, Sir Thomas?
YII. 324. tK.H.vin. 73.
^ :t I '.] h'/XG NKXR J ' THE IIHIH I If [5. /«# /.
Lov. Came you from the king, my lord ?
Card. I did, Sir Thomas; ami Icfl him at j)rimero
With the Duke of Suffolk.
Lov. I must lo him loo,
Before he go to bed. I'll take my k-avr.
Card. Not yet, Sir Thomas I, ovcll. What'slhe matter?
It seems you are in haste : an if there be
No great offense lielongs to't, give )()ur friend
Some touch of your kite business : affairs that walk —
As they say spirits do — at midnight have
In them a wilder nature than the business
That seeks disi)atch by day.
Lov. ' My lord, I love you ;
And durst commend a secret to your ear
Much weightier than this work. Tin- (juecn's in labor.
They say, in great extremity; and fear'd
She'll with the labor ^^\(\.
Card. The fruit she goes w iih
I pray for heartily, that it may find