King Henry the Eighth

    1. A lively flourish of trumpets.    2. Then two JUDGES.    3. LORD CHANCELLOR, with purse and mace before him.    4. CHORISTERS singing.[Music]    5. MAYOR OF LONDON, bearing the mace. Then GARTER, in       his coat of arms, and on his head he wore a gilt copper       crown.    6. MARQUIS DORSET, bearing a sceptre of gold, on his head a       demi-coronal of gold. With him, the EARL OF SURREY,       bearing the rod of silver with the dove, crowned with an       earl's coronet. Collars of Esses.    7. DUKE OF SUFFOLK, in his robe of estate, his coronet on       his head, bearing a long white wand, as High Steward.       With him, the DUKE OF NORFOLK, with the rod of       marshalship, a coronet on his head. Collars of Esses.    8. A canopy borne by four of the CINQUE-PORTS; under it       the QUEEN in her robe; in her hair richly adorned with       pearl, crowned. On each side her, the BISHOPS OF LONDON       and WINCHESTER.    9. The old DUCHESS OF NORFOLK, in a coronal of gold       wrought with flowers, bearing the QUEEN'S train.   10. Certain LADIES or COUNTESSES, with plain circlets of gold       without flowers.Exeunt, first passing over the stage in order and state, and then a great flourish of trumpets  SECOND GENTLEMAN. A royal train, believe me. These know.    Who's that that bears the sceptre?  FIRST GENTLEMAN. Marquis Dorset;    And that the Earl of Surrey, with the rod.  SECOND GENTLEMAN. A bold brave gentleman. That should be    The Duke of Suffolk?  FIRST GENTLEMAN. 'Tis the same-High Steward.  SECOND GENTLEMAN. And that my Lord of Norfolk?  FIRST GENTLEMAN. Yes.  SECOND GENTLEMAN. [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;    Our king has all the Indies in his arms,    And more and richer, when he strains that lady;    I cannot blame his conscience.  FIRST GENTLEMAN. They that bear    The cloth of honour over her are four barons    Of the Cinque-ports.  SECOND GENTLEMAN. Those men are happy; and so are all      are near her.    I take it she that carries up the train    Is that old noble lady, Duchess of Norfolk.  FIRST GENTLEMAN. It is; and all the rest are countesses.  SECOND GENTLEMAN. Their coronets say so. These are starsindeed,    And sometimes falling ones.  FIRST GENTLEMAN. No more of that.                   Exit Procession, with a great flourish oftrumpets

Enter a third GENTLEMAN

    God save you, sir! Where have you been broiling?  THIRD GENTLEMAN. Among the crowds i' th' Abbey, where a finger    Could not be wedg'd in more; I am stifled    With the mere rankness of their joy.  SECOND GENTLEMAN. You saw    The ceremony?  THIRD GENTLEMAN. That I did.  FIRST GENTLEMAN. How was it?  THIRD GENTLEMAN. Well worth the seeing.  SECOND GENTLEMAN. Good sir, speak it to us.  THIRD GENTLEMAN. As well as I am able. The rich stream    Of lords and ladies, having brought the Queen    To a prepar'd place in the choir, fell of    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, cloaks-    Doublets, I think-flew up, and had their faces    Been 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.  SECOND GENTLEMAN. But what follow'd?  THIRD GENTLEMAN. At length her Grace rose, and with      modest paces    Came to the altar, where she kneel'd, and saintlike    Cast 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 Deum.' So she parted,    And with the same full state pac'd back again    To York Place, where the feast is held.  FIRST GENTLEMAN. Sir,    You must no more call it York Place: that's past:    For since the Cardinal fell that title's lost.    'Tis now the King's, and called Whitehall.  THIRD GENTLEMAN. I know it;    But 'tis so lately alter'd that the old name    Is fresh about me.  SECOND GENTLEMAN. What two reverend bishops    Were those that went on each side of the Queen?  THIRD GENTLEMAN. Stokesly and Gardiner: the one of Winchester,    Newly preferr'd from the King's secretary;    The other, London.  SECOND GENTLEMAN. He of Winchester    Is held no great good lover of the Archbishop's,    The virtuous Cranmer.  THIRD GENTLEMAN. All the land knows that;    However, yet there is no great breach. When it comes,    Cranmer will find a friend will not shrink from him.  SECOND GENTLEMAN. Who may that be, I pray you?  THIRD GENTLEMAN. Thomas Cromwell,    A man in much esteem with th' King, and truly    A worthy friend. The King has made him Master    O' th' jewel House,    And one, already, of the Privy Council.  SECOND GENTLEMAN. He will deserve more.  THIRD GENTLEMAN. Yes, without all doubt.    Come, gentlemen, ye shall go my way, which    Is to th' 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.Exeunt

ACT IV. SCENE 2

Kimbolton

Enter KATHARINE, Dowager, sick; led between GRIFFITH, her Gentleman Usher, and PATIENCE, her woman

  GRIFFITH. How does your Grace?  KATHARINE. O Griffith, sick to death!    My legs like loaden branches bow to th' earth,    Willing to leave their burden. Reach a chair.    So-now, methinks, I feel a little ease.    Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou led'st me,    That the great child of honour, Cardinal Wolsey,    Was dead?  GRIFFITH. Yes, madam; but I think your Grace,    Out of the pain you suffer'd, gave no ear to't.  KATHARINE. Prithee, good Griffith, tell me how he died.    If well, he stepp'd before me, happily,    For my example.  GRIFFITH. 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.  KATHARINE. Alas, poor man!  GRIFFITH. At last, with easy roads, he came to Leicester,    Lodg'd in the abbey; where the reverend abbot,    With all his covent, honourably receiv'd him;    To whom he gave these words: 'O father Abbot,    An old man, broken with the storms of state,    Is come to lay his weary bones among ye;    Give him a little earth for charity!'    So went to bed; where eagerly his sickness    Pursu'd him still And three nights after this,    About the hour of eight-which he himself    Foretold should be his last-full of repentance,    Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows,    He gave his honours to the world again,    His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace.  KATHARINE. 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,    Tied all the kingdom. Simony was fair play;    His own opinion was his law. I' th' 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 was ill, and gave    The clergy ill example.  GRIFFITH. Noble madam,    Men's evil manners live in brass: their virtues    We write in water. May it please your Highness    To hear me speak his good now?  KATHARINE. Yes, good Griffith;    I were malicious else.  GRIFFITH. This Cardinal,    Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly    Was fashion'd to much honour 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;    The other, though unfinish'd, yet so famous,    So excellent in art, and still so rising,    That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.    His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him;    For then, and not till then, he felt himself,    And found the blessedness of being little.    And, to add greater honours to his age    Than man could give him, he died fearing God.  KATHARINE. After my death I wish no other herald,    No other speaker of my living actions,    To keep mine honour 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 honour. 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 solemnmusic]  GRIFFITH. She is asleep. Good wench, let's sit down quiet,    For fear we wake her. Softly, gentle Patience.

THE VISION.

Enter, solemnly tripping one after another, six PERSONAGES clad in white robes, wearing on their heads garlands of bays, and golden vizards on their faces; branches of bays or palm in their hands. They first congee unto her, then dance; and, at certain changes, the first two hold a spare garland over her head, at which the other four make reverent curtsies. Then the two that held the garland deliver the same to the other next two, who observe the same order in their changes, and holding the garland over her head; which done, they deliver the same garland to the last two, who likewise observe the same order; at which, as it were by inspiration, she makes in her sleep signs of rejoicing, and holdeth up her hands to heaven. And so in their dancing vanish, carrying the garland with them. The music continues

  KATHARINE. Spirits of peace, where are ye? Are ye all gone?    And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye?  GRIFFITH. Madam, we are here.  KATHARINE. It is not you I call for.    Saw ye none enter since I slept?  GRIFFITH. None, madam.  KATHARINE. 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.  GRIFFITH. I am most joyful, madam, such good dreams    Possess your fancy.  KATHARINE. Bid the music leave,    They are harsh and heavy to me. [Musicceases]  PATIENCE. 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 earthly cold! Mark her eyes.  GRIFFITH. She is going, wench. Pray, pray.  PATIENCE. Heaven comfort her!

Enter a MESSENGER

  MESSENGER. An't like your Grace-  KATHARINE. You are a saucy fellow.    Deserve we no more reverence?  GRIFFITH. You are to blame,    Knowing she will not lose her wonted greatness,    To use so rude behaviour. Go to, kneel.  MESSENGER. I humbly do entreat your Highness' pardon;    My haste made me unmannerly. There is staying    A gentleman, sent from the King, to see you.  KATHARINE. Admit him entrance, Griffith; but this fellow    Let me ne'er see again. ExitMESSENGER

Enter LORD CAPUCIUS

    If my sight fail not,    You should be Lord Ambassador from the Emperor,    My royal nephew, and your name Capucius.  CAPUCIUS. Madam, the same-your servant.  KATHARINE. O, my Lord,    The times and titles now are alter'd strangely    With me since first you knew me. But, I pray you,    What is your pleasure with me?  CAPUCIUS. Noble lady,    First, mine own service to your Grace; the next,    The King's request that I would visit you,    Who grieves much for your weakness, and by me    Sends you his princely commendations    And heartily entreats you take good comfort.  KATHARINE. O my good lord, that comfort comes too late,    'Tis like a pardon after execution:    That gentle physic, given in time, had cur'd me;    But now I am past all comforts here, but prayers.    How does his Highness?  CAPUCIUS. Madam, in good health.  KATHARINE. 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?  PATIENCE. No, madam. [Giving it toKATHARINE]  KATHARINE. Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliver    This to my lord the King.  CAPUCIUS. Most willing, madam.  KATHARINE. 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 is 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 poor petition    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 deserve,    For virtue and true beauty of the soul,    For honesty and decent carriage,    A right good husband, let him be a noble;    And sure those men are happy that shall have 'em.    The last is for my men-they are the poorest,    But poverty could never draw 'em from me-    That they may have their wages duly paid 'em,    And something over to remember me by.    If heaven had pleas'd to 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.  CAPUCIUS. By heaven, I will,    Or let me lose the fashion of a man!  KATHARINE. 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 am dead, good wench,    Let me be us'd with honour; strew me over    With maiden flowers, that all the world may know    I was a chaste wife to my 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. Exeunt, leadingKATHARINE

ACT V. SCENE 1

London. A gallery in the palace

Enter GARDINER, BISHOP OF WINCHESTER, a PAGE with a torch before him, met by SIR THOMAS LOVELL

  GARDINER. It's one o'clock, boy, is't not?  BOY. It hath struck.  GARDINER. 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. Good hour of night, Sir Thomas!    Whither so late?  LOVELL. Came you from the King, my lord?  GARDINER. I did, Sir Thomas, and left him at primero    With the Duke of Suffolk.  LOVELL. I must to him too,    Before he go to bed. I'll take my leave.  GARDINER. Not yet, Sir Thomas Lovell. What's the matter?    It seems you are in haste. An if there be    No great offence belongs to't, give your friend    Some touch of your late business. Affairs that walk-    As they say spirits do-at midnight, have    In them a wilder nature than the business    That seeks despatch by day.  LOVELL. My lord, I love you;    And durst commend a secret to your ear    Much weightier than this work. The Queen's in labour,    They say in great extremity, and fear'd    She'll with the labour end.  GARDINER. The fruit she goes with    I pray for heartily, that it may find    Good time, and live; but for the stock, Sir Thomas,    I wish it grubb'd up now.  LOVELL. Methinks I could    Cry thee amen; and yet my conscience says    She's a good creature, and, sweet lady, does    Deserve our better wishes.  GARDINER. But, sir, sir-    Hear me, Sir Thomas. Y'are a gentleman    Of mine own way; I know you wise, religious;    And, let me tell you, it will ne'er be well-    'Twill not, Sir Thomas Lovell, take't of me-    Till Cranmer, Cromwell, her two hands, and she,    Sleep in their graves.  LOVELL. Now, sir, you speak of two    The most remark'd i' th' kingdom. As for Cromwell,    Beside that of the Jewel House, is made Master    O' th' Rolls, and the King's secretary; further, sir,    Stands in the gap and trade of moe preferments,    With which the time will load him. Th' Archbishop    Is the King's hand and tongue, and who dare speak    One syllable against him?  GARDINER. Yes, yes, Sir Thomas,    There are that dare; and I myself have ventur'd    To speak my mind of him; and indeed this day,    Sir-I may tell it you-I think I have    Incens'd the lords o' th' Council, that he is-    For so I know he is, they know he is-    A most arch heretic, a pestilence    That does infect the land; with which they moved    Have broken with the King, who hath so far    Given ear to our complaint-of his great grace    And princely care, foreseeing those fell mischiefs    Our reasons laid before him-hath commanded    To-morrow morning to the Council board    He be convented. He's a rank weed, Sir Thomas,    And we must root him out. From your affairs    I hinder you too long-good night, Sir Thomas.  LOVELL. Many good nights, my lord; I rest your servant.                                             Exeunt GARDINER andPAGE

Enter the KING and the DUKE OF SUFFOLK

  KING. Charles, I will play no more to-night;    My mind's not on't; you are too hard for me.  SUFFOLK. Sir, I did never win of you before.  KING. But little, Charles;    Nor shall not, when my fancy's on my play.    Now, Lovell, from the Queen what is the news?  LOVELL. I could not personally deliver to her    What you commanded me, but by her woman    I sent your message; who return'd her thanks    In the great'st humbleness, and desir'd your Highness    Most heartily to pray for her.  KING. What say'st thou, ha?    To pray for her? What, is she crying out?  LOVELL. So said her woman; and that her suff'rance made    Almost each pang a death.  KING. Alas, good lady!  SUFFOLK. God safely quit her of her burden, and    With gentle travail, to the gladding of    Your Highness with an heir!  KING. 'Tis midnight, Charles;    Prithee to bed; and in thy pray'rs remember    Th' estate of my poor queen. Leave me alone,    For I must think of that which company    Will not be friendly to.  SUFFOLK. I wish your Highness    A quiet night, and my good mistress will    Remember in my prayers.  KING. Charles, good night. ExitSUFFOLK

Enter SIR ANTHONY DENNY

    Well, sir, what follows?  DENNY. Sir, I have brought my lord the Archbishop,    As you commanded me.  KING. Ha! Canterbury?  DENNY. Ay, my good lord.  KING. 'Tis true. Where is he, Denny?  DENNY. He attends your Highness' pleasure.  KING. Bring him to us. ExitDENNY  LOVELL. [Aside] This is about that which the bishop spake.    I am happily come hither.

Re-enter DENNY, With CRANMER

  KING. Avoid the gallery. [LOVELL seems tostay]    Ha! I have said. Be gone.    What! Exeunt LOVELL andDENNY  CRANMER. [Aside] I am fearful-wherefore frowns he thus?    'Tis his aspect of terror. All's not well.  KING. How now, my lord? You do desire to know    Wherefore I sent for you.  CRANMER. [Kneeling] It is my duty    T'attend your Highness' pleasure.  KING. Pray you, arise,    My good and gracious Lord of Canterbury.    Come, you and I must walk a turn together;    I have news to tell you; come, come, me your hand.    Ah, my good lord, I grieve at what I speak,    And am right sorry to repeat what follows.    I have, and most unwillingly, of late    Heard many grievous-I do say, my lord,    Grievous-complaints of you; which, being consider'd,    Have mov'd us and our Council that you shall    This morning come before us; where I know    You cannot with such freedom purge yourself    But that, till further trial in those charges    Which will require your answer, you must take    Your patience to you and be well contented    To make your house our Tow'r. You a brother of us,    It fits we thus proceed, or else no witness    Would come against you.  CRANMER. I humbly thank your Highness    And am right glad to catch this good occasion    Most throughly to be winnowed where my chaff    And corn shall fly asunder; for I know    There's none stands under more calumnious tongues    Than I myself, poor man.  KING. Stand up, good Canterbury;    Thy truth and thy integrity is rooted    In us, thy friend. Give me thy hand, stand up;    Prithee let's walk. Now, by my holidame,    What manner of man are you? My lord, I look'd    You would have given me your petition that    I should have ta'en some pains to bring together    Yourself and your accusers, and to have heard you    Without indurance further.  CRANMER. Most dread liege,    The good I stand on is my truth and honesty;    If they shall fail, I with mine enemies    Will triumph o'er my person; which I weigh not,    Being of those virtues vacant. I fear nothing    What can be said against me.  KING. Know you not    How your state stands i' th' world, with the whole world?    Your enemies are many, and not small; their practices    Must bear the same proportion; and not ever    The justice and the truth o' th' question carries    The due o' th' verdict with it; at what ease    Might corrupt minds procure knaves as corrupt    To swear against you? Such things have been done.    You are potently oppos'd, and with a malice    Of as great size. Ween you of better luck,    I mean in perjur'd witness, than your Master,    Whose minister you are, whiles here He liv'd    Upon this naughty earth? Go to, go to;    You take a precipice for no leap of danger,    And woo your own destruction.  CRANMER. God and your Majesty    Protect mine innocence, or I fall into    The trap is laid for me!  KING. Be of good cheer;    They shall no more prevail than we give way to.    Keep comfort to you, and this morning see    You do appear before them; if they shall chance,    In charging you with matters, to commit you,    The best persuasions to the contrary    Fail not to use, and with what vehemency    Th' occasion shall instruct you. If entreaties    Will render you no remedy, this ring    Deliver them, and your appeal to us    There make before them. Look, the good man weeps!    He's honest, on mine honour. God's blest Mother!    I swear he is true-hearted, and a soul    None better in my kingdom. Get you gone,    And do as I have bid you.                                                         ExitCRANMER    He has strangled his language in his tears.

Enter OLD LADY

  GENTLEMAN. [Within] Come back; what mean you?  OLD LADY. I'll not come back; the tidings that I bring    Will make my boldness manners. Now, good angels    Fly o'er thy royal head, and shade thy person    Under their blessed wings!  KING. Now, by thy looks    I guess thy message. Is the Queen deliver'd?    Say ay, and of a boy.  OLD LADY. Ay, ay, my liege;    And of a lovely boy. The God of Heaven    Both now and ever bless her! 'Tis a girl,    Promises boys hereafter. Sir, your queen    Desires your visitation, and to be    Acquainted with this stranger; 'tis as like you    As cherry is to cherry.  KING. Lovell!

Enter LOVELL

  LOVELL. Sir?  KING. Give her an hundred marks. I'll to the Queen.Exit  OLD LADY. An hundred marks? By this light, I'll ha' more!    An ordinary groom is for such payment.    I will have more, or scold it out of him.    Said I for this the girl was like to him! I'll    Have more, or else unsay't; and now, while 'tis hot,    I'll put it to the issue.

Exeunt

ACT V. SCENE 2

Lobby before the Council Chamber

Enter CRANMER, ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY

  CRANMER. I hope I am not too late; and yet the gentleman    That was sent to me from the Council pray'd me    To make great haste. All fast? What means this? Ho!    Who waits there? Sure you know me?

Enter KEEPER