Still growing in a majesty and pomp, the which
To leave is a thousand-fold more bitter, than
'Tis sweet at first to acquire, after this process,

-

To give her the avaunt! it is a pity

Would move a monster.

Old L.

Melt and lament for her.

Anne.

Hearts of most hard temper

O' God's will! much better,

She ne'er had known pomp: though it be temporal,
Yet, if that quarrel, fortune7, do divorce

It from the bearer, 'tis a sufferance, panging

As soul and body's severing.

Old L.

She's a stranger now again.8

Anne.

Alas, poor lady!

So much the more

Must pity drop upon her. Verily,
I swear, 'tis better to be lowly born,
And range with humble livers in content,
Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief,

And wear a golden sorrow.

And venture maidenhead for't; and so would you,
For all this spice of your hypocrisy :

You, that have so fair parts of woman on you

Have too a woman's heart: which ever yet
Affected eminence, wealth, sovereignty;

Which, to say sooth, are blessings: and which gifts
(Saving your mincing) the capacity

• To give her the avaunt!] To send her away contemptuously; to pronounce against her a sentence of ejection.

7 Yet, if that quarrel, fortune,] Perhaps for quarreller.

stranger now again.] Again an alien; not only no longer

queen, but no longer an Englishwoman. JOHNSON.

9—

our best having.] That is, our best possession.

Of your soft cheveril1 conscience would receive,
If you might please to stretch it.

Anne.

Nay, good troth, Old L. Yes, troth, and troth, -You would not be a

queen?

Anne. No, not for all the riches under heaven.

Old. L. 'Tis strange: a three-pence bowed 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 burden, '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

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 wer't worth to

know

The secret of your conference?

Anne.

My good lord,

Not your demand; it values not your asking:

Our mistress' sorrows we were pitying.

Cham. It was a gentle business, and becoming

cheveril-] Is kid skin, soft leather.

Pluck off a little; &c.] i. e. let us still further divest preferment of its glare, let us descend yet lower, and more upon a level with your own quality.

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, fair lady, Perceive I speak sincerely, and high note's Ta'en of your many virtues, the 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 blushing handmaid, to his highness; Whose health, and royalty, I pray for.

Cham.

Lady,

4

I shall not fail to approve the fair conceit, *
The king hath of you. I have perus'd her well;

Beauty and honour in her are so mingled,

[Aside.

That they have caught the king: and who knows yet, But from this lady may proceed a gem,

-

To lighten all this isle? I'll to the king,
And say, I spoke with

Anne.

you.

My honour'd lord.
[Exit Lord Chamberlain.

More than my all is nothing,

3 More than my all is nothing, &c.] for my prayers and wishes are of no value, and yet prayers and wishes are all I have to return.

I shall not fail, &c.] I shall not omit to strengthen, by my commendation, the opinion which the king has formed.

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, (fye, fye upon

This compell'd fortune!) have your mouth fill'd up,
Before you open it.

Anne.

This is strange to me.

Old. L. How tastes it? is it bitter? forty pence, no.5 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 Pembroke !

A thousand pounds a year! for pure respect;

No other obligation: By my life,

That promises more thousands: Honour's train
Is longer than his foreskirt. By this time,

I know, your back will bear a duchess;
Are you not stronger than you were?
Anne.

- Say,

Good lady,
Make yourself mirth with your particular fancy,
And leave me out on't. 'Would I had no being,
If this salute my blood a jot; it faints me,
To think what follows.

The queen is comfortless, and we forgetful
In our long absence: Pray, do not deliver
What here you have heard, to her.
Old. L.

What do you

think me? [Exeunt.

is it bitter? forty pence, no.] Forty pence was, in those days, the proverbial expression of a small wager, or a small sum. Money was then reckoned by pounds, marks, and nobles.

6 For all the mud in Egypt:] The fertility of Egypt is derived from the mud and slime of the Nile.

SCENE IV.

A Hall in Black-fryars.

Enter two Vergers,

Trumpets, Sennet', and Cornets. with short silver wands; next them, two Scribes, in the habits 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 a silver cross; then a GentlemanUsher bare-headed, 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 WOLSEY and CAMPEIUS; two Noblemen with the sword and mace. King and Queen, and their Trains. place under the cloth under him as judges. distance from the King. on each side the court, between them, the Scribes. Bishops. The Crier and the rest of the Attendants stand in convenient order about the stage.

Then enter the

The King takes of state; the two Cardinals sit The Queen takes place at some The Bishops place themselves in manner of a consistory; The Lords sit next the

Wol. Whilst our commission from Rome is read,

Let silence be commanded.

K. Hen.

What's the need?

It hath already publickly been read,

Sennet,] Dr. Burney (whose General History of Musick has been so highly and deservedly applauded) undertook to trace the etymology, and discover the certain meaning of this term, but without success. Mr. Malone thinks it was no more than a flourish, or sounding.

8 – pillars ;] Pillars were some of the ensigns of dignity carried before cardinals.