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,)3
The queen of earthly queens:-She is 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, 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 thanks to God for such A royal lady,—spake one the least word, might Be to the prejudice 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 queen is put in anger. You are excus'd: But will 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

3

could speak thee out,)] had tongues capable of speaking out thy merits; i. e. of doing them extensive justice.

4 although not there

At once and fully satisfied,)] The sense, which is encumbered with words, is no more than this-I must be loosed, though when so loosed, I shall not be satisfied fully and at once; that is, I shall not be immediately satisfied. JOHNSON.

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'd
By the bishop of Bayonne, then French ambassador;
Who had been hither sent on the debating
A marriage, 'twixt the duke of Orleans and
Our 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 advértise
Whether our daughter were legitimate,

Respecting this our marriage with the dowager,
Sometimes our brother's wife. This respite shook
The bosom of my conscience, enter'd me,
Yea, with a splitting power, and made to tremble
The region of my breast; which forc'd such way,
That many maz'd considerings did throng,

And press'd in with this caution. First, methought,
I stood not in the smile of heaven; who had
Commanded nature, that my lady's womb,
If not conceiv'd a male child by me, should
Do no more offices of life to't, than
The grave does to the dead: for her male issue
Or died where they were made, or shortly after
This world had air'd them: Hence I took a thought,
This was a judgment on me; that my kingdom,
Well worthy the best heir o'the world, should not
Be gladded in't by me: Then follows, that
I weigh'd the danger which my realms stood in
By this my issue's fail: and that gave to me

5 The passages made toward it:] i. e. closed, or fastened.

Many a groaning throe. Thus hulling in
The wild sea of my conscience, I did steer
Toward this remedy, whereupon we are
Now present here together; that's to say,
I meant to rectify my conscience,-which
I then did feel full sick, and yet not well,-
By all the reverend fathers of the land,
And doctors learn'd.-First, I began in private
With you, my lord of Lincoln; you remember
How under my oppression I did reek,

When I first mov'd you.

Lin.

Very well, my liege.

K. Hen. I have spoke long; be pleas'd yourself to

say

How far you satisfied me.

Lin.
So please your highness,
The question did at first so stagger me,-
Bearing a state of mighty moment in't,
And consequence of dread,-that I committed.
The daring'st counsel which I had, to doubt;
And did entreat your highness to this course,
Which you are running here.

K. Hen.
I then mov'd you,
My lord of Canterbury; and got your leave
To make this present summons:-Unsolicited
I left no reverend person in this court;

But by particular consent proceeded,

Under your hands and seals. Therefore, go on:
For no dislike i'the world against the person
Of the good queen, but the sharp thorny points
Of my alleged reasons, drive this forward:
Prove but our marriage lawful, by my life,
And kingly dignity, we are contented
To wear our mortal state to come, with her,

6 hulling in

The wild sea-] That is, floating without guidance; tossed here and there.

Katharine our queen, before the primest creature That's paragon'd o'the world.

Cam. So please your highness, The queen being absent, 'tis a needful fitness That we adjourn this court till further day: Mean while must be an earnest motion Made to the queen, to call back her appeal She intends unto his holiness.

I

[They rise to depart. may perceive, [Aside. These cardinals trifle with me: I abhor

K. Hen.

This dilatory sloth, and tricks of Rome.
My learn'd and well-beloved servant, Cranmer,
Pr'ythee return! with thy approach, I know,
My comfort comes along. Break up the court:
I say, set on. [Exeunt, in manner as they entered.

ACT III.

SCENE I. Palace at Bridewell.

A Room in the Queen's Apartment.

The Queen, and some of her Women, at work. Q. Kath. Take thy lute, wench: my soul grows sad with troubles;

Sing, and disperse them, if thou canst: leave working.

SONG.

Orpheus with his lute made trees,
And the mountain-tops, that freeze,

Bow themselves, when he did sing:
To his musick, plants, and flowers,
Ever sprung; as sun, and showers,

There had been a lasting spring.

Every thing that heard him play,
Even the billows of the sea,

Hung their heads, and then lay by.
In sweet musick is such art;
Killing care, and grief of heart,
Fall asleep, or, hearing, die.

Enter a Gentleman.

Q. Kath. How now?

Gent. An't please your grace, the two great car

dinals

Wait in the presence."

Q. Kath.

Would they speak with me?

Gent. They will'd me say so, madam.

Q. Kath.

Pray their graces To come near. [Exit Gent.] What can be their

business

With 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 WOLSEY and CAMPeius.

Wol.
Peace to your highness!
Q. Kath. Your graces find me here part of a
housewife;

I would be all, against the worst may happen.
What are your pleasures with me, reverend lords?
Wol. May it please you, noble madam, to with-
draw

Into your private chamber, we shall give you
The full cause of our coming.

Q. Kath.

Speak it here;

There's nothing I have done yet, o' my conscience,

7 Wait in the presence.] i. e. in the presence-chamber.