The Life of Henry the Eighth

ANNEMy honour'd lord.OLD LADYWhy, this it is: see, see!I have been begging sixteen years in court,Am yet a courtier beggarly, nor couldCome pat betwixt too early and too lateFor any suit of pounds; and you, O fate!A very fresh-fish here – fie, fie, fie uponThis compell'd fortune! – have your mouth fill'd upBefore you open it.ANNEThis is strange to me.OLD LADYHow 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?ANNECome, you are pleasant.OLD LADYWith your theme, I couldO'ermount the lark. The Marchioness of Pembroke!A thousand pounds a year for pure respect!No other obligation! By my life,That promises moe thousands; Honour's trainIs longer than his foreskirt. By this timeI know your back will bear a duchess. Say,Are you not stronger than you were?ANNEGood 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 forgetfulIn our long absence. Pray, do not deliverWhat here you've heard to her.OLD LADYWhat do you think me?

[Exeunt.]

SCENE IV. A hall in Black-Friars

[Trumpets, sennet, and cornets. Enter two Vergers, 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 Priests, bearing each silver 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 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 consistory; below them, the Scribes. The Lords sit next the Bishops. The rest of the Attendants stand in convenient order about the stage.]

WOLSEYWhilst our commission from Rome is read,Let silence be commanded.KINGWhat's the need?It hath already publicly been read,And on all sides the authority allow'd;You may, then, spare that time.WOLSEYBe't so. Proceed.SCRIBESay, Henry King of England, come into the court.CRIERHenry King of England, etc.KINGHere.SCRIBESay, Katherine Queen of England, come into the court.CRIERKatherine Queen of England, etc.

[The Queen makes no answer, rises out of her chair, goes about the court, comes to the King, and kneels at his feet; then speaks.]

QUEEN KATHERINESir, I desire you do me right and justice,And to bestow your pity on me; forI am a most poor woman, and a stranger,Born out of your dominions, having hereNo judge indifferent, nor no more assuranceOf equal friendship and proceeding. Alas, sir,In what have I offended you? What causeHath my behaviour given to your displeasure,That thus you should proceed to put me offAnd 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 sorryAs I saw it inclin'd. When was the hourI ever contradicted your desire,Or made it not mine too? Or which of your friendsHave I not strove to love, although I knewHe were mine enemy? What friend of mineThat had to him deriv'd your anger, did IContinue in my liking? nay, gave noticeHe was from thence discharg'd? Sir, call to mindThat I have been your wife in this obedienceUpward of twenty years, and have been blestWith many children by you. If, in the courseAnd 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 contemptShut door upon me, and so give me upTo the sharp'st kind of justice. Please you, sir,The King, your father, was reputed forA prince most prudent, of an excellentAnd unmatch'd wit and judgment; Ferdinand,My father, King of Spain, was reckon'd oneThe wisest prince that there had reign'd by manyA year before; it is not to be question'dThat they had gather'd a wise council to themOf every realm, that did debate this business,Who deem'd our marriage lawful; wherefore I humblyBeseech you, sir, to spare me till I mayBe by my friends in Spain advis'd, whose counselI will implore. If not, i' the name of God,Your pleasure be fulfill'd!WOLSEYYou have here, lady,And of your choice, these reverend fathers; menOf singular integrity and learning,Yea, the elect o' the land, who are assembledTo plead your cause. It shall be therefore bootlessThat longer you desire the court; as wellFor your own quiet, as to rectifyWhat is unsettled in the King.CAMPEIUSHis GraceHath spoken well and justly; therefore, madam,It's fit this royal session do proceed,And that, without delay, their argumentsBe now produc'd and heard.QUEEN KATHERINELord Cardinal,To you I speak.WOLSEYYour pleasure, madam?QUEEN KATHERINESir,I am about to weep; but, thinking thatWe are a queen, or long have dream'd so, certainThe daughter of a king, my drops of tearsI'll turn to sparks of fire.WOLSEYBe patient yet.QUEEN KATHERINEI will, when you are humble; nay, before,Or God will punish me. I do believe,Induced by potent circumstances, thatYou are mine enemy, and make my challengeYou shall not be my judge; for it is youHave blown this coal betwixt my lord and me,Which God's dew quench! Therefore I say again,I utterly abhor, yea, from my soulRefuse you for my judge; whom, yet once more,I hold my most malicious foe, and think notAt all a friend to truth.WOLSEYI do professYou speak not like yourself, who ever yetHave stood to charity and display'd the effectsOf disposition gentle, and of wisdomO'ertopping woman's pow'r. Madam, you do me wrong.I have no spleen against you, nor injusticeFor you or any. How far I have proceeded,Or how far further shall, is warrantedBy a commission from the consistory,Yea, the whole consistory of Rome. You charge meThat I have blown this coal. I do deny it.The King is present: if it be known to himThat I gainsay my deed, how may he wound,And worthily, my falsehood! yea, as muchAs you have done my truth. If he knowThat I am free of your report, he knowsI am not of your wrong. Therefore in himIt lies to cure me; and the cure is, toRemove these thoughts from you; the which beforeHis Highness shall speak in, I do beseechYou, gracious madam, to unthink your speakingAnd to say so no more.QUEEN KATHERINEMy lord, my lord,I am a simple woman, much too weakTo 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 heartIs cramm'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride.You have, by fortune and his Highness' favours,Gone slightly o'er low steps and now are mountedWhere powers are your retainers, and your words,Domestics to you, serve your will as 't pleaseYourself pronounce their office. I must tell you,You tender more your person's honour thanYour high profession spiritual; that againI 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 judg'd by him.

[She curtsies to the King, and offers to depart.]

CAMPEIUSThe Queen is obstinate,Stubborn to justice, apt to accuse it, andDisdainful to be tried by't; 'tis not well.She's going away.KINGCall her again.CRIERKatherine Queen of England, come into the court.GENTLEMAN USHERMadam, you are call'd back.QUEEN KATHERINEWhat 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 moreUpon this business my appearance makeIn any of their courts.

[Exeunt Queen, and her Attendants.]

KINGGo thy ways, Kate.That man i' the world who shall report he hasA 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 partsSovereign and pious else, could speak thee out,The queen of earthly queens. She's noble born;And, like her true nobility, she hasCarried herself towards me.WOLSEYMost gracious sir,In humblest manner I require your Highness,That it shall please you to declare, in hearingOf all these ears, – for, where I am robb'd and bound,There must I be unloos'd, although not thereAt once and fully satisfied, – whether ever IDid broach this business to your Highness, orLaid any scruple in your way, which mightInduce you to the question on't? or everHave to you, but with thanks to God for suchA royal lady, spake one the least word that mightBe to the prejudice of her present state,Or touch of her good person?KINGMy Lord Cardinal,I do excuse you; yea, upon mine honour,I free you from't. You are not to be taughtThat you have many enemies, that know notWhy they are so, but, like to village-curs,Bark when their fellows do: by some of theseThe Queen is put in anger. You're excus'd;But will you be more justifi'd? You everHave wish'd the sleeping of this business; never desir'dIt to be stirr'd; but oft have hind'red, 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 mov'd me to't,I will be bold with time and your attention:Then mark the inducement. Thus it came; give heed to't:My conscience first receiv'd a tenderness,Scruple, and prick, on certain speeches utter'dBy the Bishop of Bayonne, then French ambassador;Who had been hither sent on the debatingA marriage 'twixt the Duke of Orleans andOur daughter Mary. I' the progress of this business,Ere a determinate resolution, he,I mean the Bishop, did require a respite;Wherein he might the King his lord advertiseWhether our daughter were legitimate,Respecting this our marriage with the dowager,Sometimes our brother's wife. This respite shookThe bosom of my conscience, enter'd me,Yea, with a splitting power, and made to trembleThe region of my breast; which forc'd such way,That many maz'd considerings did throngAnd press'd in with this caution. First, methoughtI stood not in the smile of Heaven; who hadCommanded nature, that my lady's womb,If it conceiv'd a male child by me, shouldDo no more offices of life to't thanThe grave does to the dead; for her male issueOr died where they were made, or shortly afterThis world had air'd them. Hence I took a thoughtThis was a judgement on me; that my kingdom,Well worthy the best heir o' the world, should notBe gladded in't by me. Then follows, thatI weigh'd the danger which my realms stood inBy this my issue's fail; and that gave to meMany a groaning throe. Thus hulling inThe wild sea of my conscience, I did steerToward this remedy, whereupon we areNow present here together; that's to say,I meant to rectify my conscience, – whichI then did feel full sick, and yet not well, —By all the reverend fathers of the landAnd doctors learn'd. First I began in privateWith you, my Lord of Lincoln. You rememberHow under my oppression I did reek,When I first mov'd you.LINCOLNVery well, my liege.KINGI have spoke long; be pleas'd yourself to sayHow far you satisfi'd me.LINCOLNSo please your Highness,The question did at first so stagger me,Bearing a state of mighty moment in'tAnd consequence of dread, that I committedThe daring'st counsel which I had to doubt;And did entreat your Highness to this courseWhich you are running here.KINGI then mov'd you,My Lord of Canterbury; and got your leaveTo make this present summons. UnsolicitedI left no reverend person in this court;But by particular consent proceededUnder your hands and seals. Therefore, go on;For no dislike i' the world against the personOf the good queen, but the sharp thorny pointsOf my alleged reasons, drives this forward.Prove but our marriage lawful, by my lifeAnd kingly dignity, we are contentedTo wear our mortal state to come with her,Katherine our queen, before the primest creatureThat's paragon'd o' the world.CAMPEIUSSo please your Highness,The Queen being absent, 'tis a needful fitnessThat we adjourn this court till further day.Meanwhile must be an earnest motionMade to the Queen, to call back her appealShe intends unto his Holiness.KING

[Aside.] I may perceive

These Cardinals trifle with me; I abhorThis 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.

[Exuent in manner as they enter'd.]

ACT THIRD

SCENE I. London. The Queen's apartments

[The Queen and her women, as at work.]

QUEEN KATHERINETake thy lute, wench; my soul growssad with troubles.Sing, and disperse 'em, if thou canst. Leave working.SONGOrpheus with his lute made treesAnd the mountain tops that freeze  Bow themselves when he did sing.To his music plants and flowersEver 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.]

QUEEN KATHERINEHow now!GENTLEMANAn't please your Grace, the two great CardinalsWait in the presence.QUEEN KATHERINEWould they speak with me?GENTLEMANThey will'd me say so, madam.QUEEN KATHERINEPray their GracesTo come near. [Exit Gentleman.] What can be their businessWith me, a poor weak woman, fallen from favour?I do not like their coming. Now I think on't,They should be good men, their affairs as righteous.But all hoods make not monks.

[Enter the two Cardinals, Wolsey and Campeius.]

WOLSEYPeace to your Highness!QUEEN KATHERINEYour Graces find me here part of housewife;I would be all, against the worst may happen.What are your pleasures with me, reverend lords?WOLSEYMay it please you, noble madam, to withdrawInto your private chamber, we shall give youThe full cause of our coming.QUEEN KATHERINESpeak it here;There's nothing I have done yet, o' my conscience,Deserves a corner. Would all other womenCould speak this with as free a soul as I do!My lords, I care not, so much I am happyAbove a number, if my actionsWere tried by every tongue, every eye saw 'em,Envy and base opinion set against 'em,I know my life so even. If your businessSeek me out, and that way I am wife in,Out with it boldly. Truth loves open dealing.WOLSEYTanta est erga te mentis integritas, regina serenissima, —QUEEN KATHERINEO, good my lord, no Latin;I am not such a truant since my coming,As not to know the language I have liv'd in.A strange tongue makes my cause more strange, suspicious;Pray, speak in English. Here are some will thank you,If you speak truth, for their poor mistress' sake.Believe me, she has had much wrong. Lord Cardinal,The willing'st sin I ever yet committedMay be absolv'd in English.WOLSEYNoble 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 accusationTo taint that honour every good tongue blesses,Nor to betray you any way to sorrow;You have too much, good lady; but to knowHow you stand minded in the weighty differenceBetween the King and you; and to deliver,Like free and honest men, our just opinionsAnd comforts to your cause.CAMPEIUSMost 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 censureBoth of his truth and him, which was too far,Offers, as I do, in a sign of peace,His service and his counsel.QUEEN KATHERINE[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 I know not. I was set at workAmong my maids; full little, God knows, lookingEither for such men or such business.For her sake that I have been, – for I feelThe last fit of my greatness – good your Graces,Let me have time and counsel for my cause.Alas, I am a woman, friendless, hopeless!WOLSEYMadam, you wrong the King's love with these fears.Your hopes and friends are infinite.QUEEN KATHERINEIn EnglandBut 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 much weigh out my afflictions,They that my trust must grow to, live not here;They are, as all my other comforts, far henceIn mine own country, lords.CAMPEIUSI would your GraceWould leave your griefs, and take my counsel.QUEEN KATHERINEHow, sir?CAMPEIUSPut your main cause into the King's protection;He's loving and most gracious. 'Twill be muchBoth for your honour better and your cause;For if the trial of the law o'ertake ye,You'll part away disgrac'd.WOLSEYHe tells you rightly.QUEEN KATHERINEYe tell me what ye wish for both, – my ruin.Is this your Christian counsel? Out upon ye!Heaven is above all yet; there sits a judgeThat no king can corrupt.CAMPEIUSYour rage mistakes us.QUEEN KATHERINEThe more shame 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 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.Take heed, for heaven's sake, take heed, lest at onceThe burden of my sorrows fall upon ye.WOLSEYMadam, this is a mere distraction;You turn the good we offer into envy.QUEEN KATHERINEYe turn me into nothing. Woe upon yeAnd all such false professors! Would you have me —If you have any justice, any pity;If ye be anything but churchmen's habits —Put my sick cause into his hands that hates me?Alas, he's banish'd me his bed already,His love, too, long ago! I am old, my lords,And all the fellowship I hold now with himIs only my obedience. What can happenTo me above this wretchedness? All your studiesMake me a curse like this.CAMPEIUSYour fears are worse.QUEEN KATHERINEHave 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 affectionsStill met the King? lov'd him next Heav'n? obey'd him?Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him?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.WOLSEYMadam, you wander from the good we aim at.QUEEN KATHERINEMy lord, I dare not make myself so guilty,To give up willingly that noble titleYour master wed me to. Nothing but deathShall e'er divorce my dignities.WOLSEYPray hear me.QUEEN KATHERINEWould I had never trod this English earth,Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it!Ye have angels' faces, 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!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 and flourish'd,I'll hang my head and perish.WOLSEYIf your GraceCould 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 'em.For goodness' sake, consider what you do;How you may hurt yourself, ay, utterlyGrow from the King's acquaintance, by this carriage.The hearts of princes kiss obedience,So much they love it; but to stubborn spiritsThey swell, and grow as terrible as storms.I know you have a gentle, noble temper,A soul as even as a calm; pray, think usThose we profess, peacemakers, friends, and servants.CAMPEIUSMadam, you'll find it so. You wrong your virtuesWith these weak women's fears. A noble spiritAs yours was, put into you, ever castsSuch doubts, as false coin, from it. The King loves you;Beware you lose it not. For us, if you pleaseTo trust us in your business, we are readyTo use our utmost studies in your service.QUEEN KATHERINEDo what ye will, my lords; and, pray, forgive meIf I have us'd myself unmannerly;You know I am a woman, lacking witTo make a seemly answer to such persons.Pray, do my service to his Majesty;He has my heart yet, and shall have my prayersWhile 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.]

SCENE II. Ante-chamber to the King's apartment

[Enter the Duke of Norfolk, the Duke of Suffolk, the

Earl of Surrey, and the Lord Chamberlain.]NORFOLKIf you will now unite in your complaintsAnd force them with a constancy, the CardinalCannot stand under them. If you omitThe offer of this time, I cannot promiseBut that you shall sustain moe new disgraces,With these you bear already.SURREYI am joyfulTo meet the least occasion that may give meRemembrance of my father-in-law, the Duke,To be reveng'd on him.SUFFOLKWhich of the peersHave uncontemn'd gone by him, or at leastStrangely neglected? When did he regardThe stamp of nobleness in any personOut of himself?CHAMBERLAINMy lords, you speak your pleasures.What he deserves of you and me I know;What we can do to him, though now the timeGives way to us, I much fear. If you cannotBar his access to the King, never attemptAnything on him; for he hath a witchcraftOver the King in 's tongue.NORFOLKO, fear him not;His spell in that is out. The King hath foundMatter against him that for ever marsThe honey of his language. No, he's settled,Not to come off, in his displeasure.SURREYSir,I should be glad to hear such news as thisOnce every hour.NORFOLKBelieve it, this is true.In the divorce his contrary proceedingsAre all unfolded; wherein he appearsAs I would wish mine enemy.SURREYHow cameHis practices to light?SUFFOLKMost strangely.SURREYO, how, how?SUFFOLKThe Cardinal's letters to the Pope miscarried,And came to the eye o' the King; wherein was read,How that the Cardinal did entreat his HolinessTo stay the judgement o' the divorce; for ifIt did take place, "I do" quoth he "perceiveMy king is tangled in affection toA creature of the Queen's, Lady Anne Bullen."SURREYHas the King this?SUFFOLKBelieve it.SURREYWill this work?CHAMBERLAINThe King in this perceives him, how he coastsAnd hedges his own way. But in this pointAll his tricks founder, and he brings his physicAfter his patient's death. The King alreadyHath married the fair lady.SURREYWould he had!SUFFOLKMay you be happy in your wish, my lord!For, I profess, you have it.SURREYNow, all my joyTrace the conjunction!SUFFOLKMy amen to't!NORFOLKAll men's!SUFFOLKThere's order given for her coronation.Marry, this is yet but young, and may be leftTo some ears unrecounted. But, my lords,She is a gallant creature, and completeIn mind and feature. I persuade me, from herWill fall some blessing to this land, which shallIn it be memoriz'd.SURREYBut, will the KingDigest this letter of the Cardinal's?The Lord forbid!NORFOLKMarry, amen!SUFFOLKNo, no;There be moe wasps that buzz about his noseWill make this sting the sooner. Cardinal CampeiusIs stolen away to Rome; hath ta'en no leave;He's left the cause o' the King unhandled, andIs posted, as the agent of our Cardinal,To second all his plot. I do assure youThe King cried "Ha!" at this.CHAMBERLAINNow, God incense him,And let him cry "Ha!" louder!NORFOLKBut, my lord,When returns Cranmer?SUFFOLKHe is return'd in his opinions; whichHave satisfied the King for his divorce,Together with all famous collegesAlmost in Christendom. Shortly, I believe,His second marriage shall be publish'd, andHer coronation. Katherine no moreShall be call'd Queen, but Princess DowagerAnd widow to Prince Arthur.NORFOLKThis same Cranmer'sA worthy fellow, and hath ta'en much painIn the King's business.SUFFOLKHe has; and we shall see himFor it an archbishop.NORFOLKSo I hear.SUFFOLK'Tis so.

[Enter Wolsey and Cromwell.]

The Cardinal!NORFOLKObserve, observe, he's moody.WOLSEYThe packet, Cromwell,Gave't you the King?CROMWELLTo his own hand, in 's bedchamber.WOLSEYLook'd he o' the inside of the paper?CROMWELLPresentlyHe did unseal them; and the first he view'd,He did it with a serious mind; a heedWas in his countenance. You he badeAttend him here this morning.WOLSEYIs he readyTo come abroad?CROMWELLI think, by this he is.WOLSEYLeave me awhile.

[Exit Cromwell.]