Abbildungen der Seite



to your

Bat those, that soughtit, I could wish more christians. And when you wonld say something, that is sad, This Be what they will, I heartily forgive them: Speak, how I fell! - I have done; and God forgive me! Tha! Yet let them look, they glory not in mischief,

(Exeunt Buckingham and Train, Turi Nor build their evils on the graves of great men! 1 Gent. O, this is full of pity! --Sir, it calls, Sa For then my guiltless blood must cry against them. I fear, too many carses on their heads,

No For further life in this world I ne'er hope, That were the authors.

And Nor will I sue, although the king have mercies 2 Gent. If the duke be guiltless, More, than I dare make faults. You few, that lov'd me, 'Tis full of woe: yet I can give you inkling

Bety And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham, Of an ensuing evil, if it fall,

Hed His noble friends, and fellows, whom to leave Greater than this.

Dane Is only bitter to him, only dying,

1 Gent. Good angels keep it from ns! Go with me, like good angels, to my end; Where may it be? You do not doubt my faith, sir? And, And, as the long divorce of steel falls on me, 2 Gent. This secret is so weighty, 'twill require Не с Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice, A strong faith to conceal it,

That And lift my soul to heaven! - Leadon, o'God's name! 1 Cent. Let me have it!

Abo Lov. I do beseech your grace, for charity, I do not talk much.

0f1 If ever any malice in your heart

2 Gent. I am confident,

Tha Were hid against me, now to forgive me frankly. You shall, sir. Did you not of late days hear Buck. Sir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive you, A burcing of a separation

wa As I would be forgiven : I forgive all ; Between the king and Catharine ?

Ch There cannot be those numberless ofl'ences

1 Gent. Yes, but it held not: 'Gainst me, I can't take peace with: no black envy For when the king once heard it, out of anger Shall make my grave.

Commend me to his grace He sent command to the lord mayor, straight And, if he speak of Buckingham, pray, tell him, To stop the rumour, and allay those tongues,

La You met him half in heaven: my vows and prayers That durst disperse it.

T! Yet are the king's; and, till my soul forsake me, 2 Gent. But that slander, sir,

T Shall cry for blessings on him. May he live Is found a truth now: for it grows again

T Longer, than I have time to tell his years ! Fresher, than e'er it was, and held for certain,

Į Erer belor'd, and loving, may his rule be! The king will venture at it. Either the cardinal, 2 And, when old time shall lead him to his end, Or some about him uear, have, out of malice

AU Goodness and he fill up one inonument!

To the good queen, possess'd him with a scruple, Or Lov. To the water side I must conduct your grace; That will undo her: to confirm this too,

Fri Then give my charge up to sir Nicholas Vaux, Cardinal Campeius is arriv'd, and lately;

Li Who undertakes


As all think, for his business.
Vaux. Prepare there,

1 Gent. 'Tis the cardinal; The duke is coming: see, the barge be ready, And merely to revenge him on the emperor,

11 And fit it with such furniture, as suits For not bestowing on him, at his asking,

AS The greatness of his person!

The archbishoprick of Toledo, this is purpos'd. : If Buck. Nay, sir Nicholas,

2 Gent. I think, you have hit the mark: but ist T Let it alone! my state now will but mock me.

not cruel,

When I came hither, I was lord high constable That she should feel the smart of this? The cardinal
And duke of Buckingham; now, poor Edward Bohun: Will have his will, and she must fall.
Yet I am richer, than my base accusers,

1 Gent. 'Tis woful.
That never knew, what truth meant: I now seal it: We are too open here to argue this;
And with thatblood will make them one day groan for't. Let's think in private more!
My noble father, Henry of Buckingham,
Who first rais'd head against usurping Richard, SCENEIT. An antechambre in the palace.
Flying for succour to his servant Banister,

Enter the Lord Chamberlain, reading a letter, Deing distress'd, was by that wretch betray'd, Cham. My lord, The horses your lordship sene And without trial fell ; God's peace be with him ! for, with all the care I hud, I saw well chosen, ridTienry the seventh succeeding, truly pitying den, and furnish'd. They were young, and handsome, My father's loss, like a most royal prince, and of the best breed in the north, When they were Piestor’d me to my honours, and, ont of ruins, ready to set out for London, a man of my lord cardiMade my name once more noble. Now his son, nal's, by commission, and muin power, cook 'en from Keury the eighth, life, honour, name, and all me, with this reason, his master would be served That made me happy, at one stroke has taken before a subject, if not before the king: which stopped For ever from the world. I had my trial,

our mouths, sir. And, must 'needs say, a noble one; which makes me I fear, he will, indeed !--Well, let him have them! A little happier, than my wretched father:

He will have all, I think. Yet thus far we are one in fortunes, - Both

Enter the Dukes of Norfolk and SUFFOLK.
Fell by our servants, by those men, we lov'd most; Nor. Well met, my good
A most nonatural and faithless service!

Lord chamberlain!
Heaven has an end in all. Yet you that hear me, Cham. Good day to both your graces !
This from a dying man receive as certain :

Suf. How is the king employ'd ?
Where you are liberal of your loves, and counsels, Cham. I left him private,
Be sure, you be not loose; for those you make friends, Full of sad thoughts and troubles.
And give your hearts to, when they once perceive Nor. What's the cause?
The least rub in your fortunes, fall away

Cham. It seems, the marriage with his brother Like water from ye, never found again

But where they mean to sink ye. All good people, Has crept too near his conscience.
Pray for me! I must now forsake ye; the last hour Suf. No, his conscience
Of my long weary life is come opon me.

Has crept too near another lady.

Nor. 'Tis so;

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small]

This is the cardinal's doing, the king-cardinal : Most learned reverend sir! into our kingdom; That blind priest, like the eldest son of fortune, Use ns, and it. — My good lord, have great care Turns what he lists. The king will know him one day.'I be not found a talker.

To Wolsey.
Suf. Pray God, he do! he'll never know himself else. Wol. Sir, you caunot!
Nor. How holily he works in all his business! I would, your grace would give us but an hour
And with what zeal! For, now he has crack'd the of private conference.

K. Hen. We are busy; go![To Norfolk and Suffolk.
Between us and the emperor, the queeu's great nephew, Nor. This priest has no pride in him?
He dives into the king's soul; and there scatters Suf. Not to speak of;
Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience, I would not be so sick though, for his place:
Fears, and despairs, and all these for his marriage : But this cannot continue.

And, ont of all these to restore the king,

Nor. If it do,
He counsels a divorce: a loss of her,

I'll venture one heave at him.
That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years

Suf. I another.
About his neck, yet never lost her lustre:

(Exeunt Norfolk and Suffolk. Of her, that loves him with that excellence,

Wol. Your grace has given a precedent of wisdom
That angels love good men with; even of her, Above all princes, in committing freely
That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls,

Your scruple to the voice of Christendom :
Will bless the king: and is not this course pious ? Who can be angry now ? what envy reach you?
Cham. Heaven keep me from such counsel! 'Tis The Spaniard, tied by blood and favour to her,
most true,

Must now confess, if they have any goodness,
These news are everywhere;every tongne speaks them, The trial just and noble. All the clerks,
And every true heart weeps fort. All, that dare

I mean, the learned ones, in christian kingdoms,
Look into these affairs, see this main end, - Have their free voices; Rome, the nurse of judgment,
The French king's sister. Heaven will one day open Invited by your noble self, hath sent
The king's eyes, that so long have slept upon One general tongue unto ns, this good man,
This bold bad man.

This just and learned priest, cardinal Campeius;
Suf. And free us from his slavery.

Whom, once more, I present unto your highness. Nor. We had need pray,

K. Hen. And, once more, in mine arms I bid him And heartily, for our deliverance;

Or this imperious man will work us all

And thank the holy conclave for their loves;
From princes into pages: all men's hononrs
Lie in one lump before him, to be fashion'd

They have sent me such a man I would have wish'd

Into what pitch he please.
Suf. For me, my lords !

Cam. Your grace must needs deserve all strangers'
I love him not, nor fear him, there's

loves, creed:

As I am made without him, so I'll stand,

You are so noble. To your highness' hand
If the king please; his curses and his blessings I tender my commission ; by whose virtue,
Touch me alike, they are breath I not believe in.

(The court of Rome commanding,) — you, my lord I knew him, and I know him ; so I leave him

Cardinal of York, are join'd with me their servant,
To him, that made him proud, the pope.

In the unpartial judging of this business.
Nor. Let's in ;

K. Hen Two equal men. The queen shall be ac-
And, with some other business, put the king

quainted From these sad thoughts, that work too much upon Forthwith, for what you come. - · Where's Gardiner? him:

Wol. I know, your majesty has always lov'd her
My lord, you'll bear us company ?

So dear in heart, not to deny her that
Cham. Excuse me;

A woman of less place might ask by law,
The king hath sent me other-where: besides, Scholars, allow'd freely to arguc for her.
You'll find a most unfit time to disturb him. K. Hen. Ay, and the best, she shall have; and my
Health to your lordships

Nor. Thanks, my good lord chamberlain !

To him that does best; God forbid else. Cardinal, [Exit Lord Chamberlain. Pr’ythee, call Gardiner to me, my new secretary; Norfolk opens a folding-door. The King is dis- I find him a fit fellow.

[Exit Wolsey.
covered sitting, and reading pensively.
Suf. How sad he looks! sure, he is much afflicted.

Re-enter Wolsey, with GARDINER.
K. Men. Who is there? ha?

Wol. Give me your hand: much joy and favour
Nor. 'Pray God, he be not angry.
K. Hen. Who's there, I say? How dare you thrust You are the king's now.

Gard. But to be commanded
Into my private meditations ?

For ever by your grace, whose hand has rais'd me.
Who am I? ha?

[Aside. Nor. A gracious king, that pardons all offences, K. Hen. Come hither, Gardiner! Malice ne'er meant : our breach of duty, this way,

(They converse apart. Is business of estate; in which we come

Cam. My lord of York! was not one doctor Pace
To know your royal pleasure.

In this man's place before him?
K. Hen. You are too bold;

Wol. Yes, he was.
Go to; I'll make’ye know your times of business : Cam. Was he not held a learned man ?
Is this an hour for temporal affairs ? ha?

Wol. Yes, surely.
Enter Wolsey and CAMPETUS.

Cam. Believe me, there's an ill opinion spread then
Who's there? my good lord cardinal? O my Wolsey, Even of yourself, lord cardinal !
The quiet of my wounded conscience,

Wol. How! of me?
Thou art a cure fit for a king. - You're welcome, Cam. They will not stick to say, you envied him;
(To Campeius. And, fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous,

[ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors]

to you:




[ocr errors]


[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]



Kept him a foreign man still; which so griev'd him, I would not be a young count in your way,

That he ran mad and died.

For more than blushing comes to : if your back
Wol. Heaven's peace be with him!
Cannot vouchsafe this burden, 'tis too weak

That's christian care enough: for living murmurers, Ever to get a boy.

There's places of rebuke. He was a fool;
Anne. How do you talk!

If th

For he would needs be virtuous: that good fellow, I swear again, I would not be a queen
If I command him, follows my appointment;
For all the world.

I will have none so near else. Learn this, brother, Old L. In faith, for little England

In o:
We live not to be grip'd by meaner persons.
You'd venture an emballing: I myself

K. Hen. Deliver this with modesty to the queen! Would for Carnarvonshire, although there 'long'd,

Old [Exit Gardiner. No more to the crown but that. Lo! who comes here? The most convenient place, that I can think of,

Enter the Lord Chamberlain.

For such receipt of learning, is Black-Friars; Cham. Good morrow, ladies ! What wer't worth to
There ye shall meet about this weighty business :- know
My Wolsey, see it furnish'd. -0 mg lord ! The secret of your conference?

Would it pot grieve an able man, to leave
Anne. My good lord,

of C So sweet a bedfellow? But,conscience, conscience,– Not your demand; it valoes not yonr asking: 0, 'tis a tender place, and I must leave her! (Exeunt. Our mistress' sorrows we were pitying: S ENE II.

bear An antechamber in the Queen's Cham. It was a gentle business, and becoming apurtinents.

The action of good women: there is hope,
Enter Anne Bullex, and an old Ludy.

All will be well.
Anne. Not for that neither; here's the pang that Anne. Now I pray God, amen!
Cham. You bear a gentle mind, and heavenly bles-

sul His highness having lived so long with her; and she .sings

sila So good a lady, that no tongue could ever

Follow such creatures. That you may, fair lady,
Pronounce dishonour of her,— by my life, Perceive I speak sincerely, and high note's
She never knew harm-doing; - now, after Ta'en of your many virtues, the king's majesty


de So many courses of the sun enthron'd, Commends his good opinion to you, and

hu Still growing in a majesty and pomp, - the which Does purpose honour to you no less flowing To leave is a thousand-fold more bitter, than Than marchioness of Pembroke; to which tide "Tis sweet at first to acquire, - after this process, A thousand pound a-year, annual support,

bei To give her the avaunt! it is a pity

Out of his grace he adds.
Would move a monster.

Anne. I do not know,
Old L. Hearts of most hard temper

What kind of my obedience I should tender;
Melt and lament for her.

More than my all is nothing: nor my prayers
Anne. 0, God's will! much better,
Are not words duly hallow'd, nor my wishes

She ne'er had known pomp: though it be temporal, More worth, than empty vanities; yet prag ers, and


Yet, if that quarrel, fortune, do divorce
It from the bearer, 'tis a sufferance, panging Are all I can return. 'Beseech your lordship,

As soul and body's severing.

Vouchsafe to speak my thanks, and my obedience, old L. Alas, poor lady!

As from a blushing handmaid, to his highness;
She's a stranger now again.

Whose health, and royalty, I pray for.
Anne. So much the more

Cham. Lady;
Must pity drop upon her. Verily,

I shall not fail to approve the fair conceit
I swear, 'tis better to be lowly born,

The king hath of you.— I have perus’d her well.
And range with humble livers in content,
Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief, Beauty and honour in her are so mingled,
And wear a golden sorrow.

That they have caught the king: and who knows yet,
Old L. Our content

But from this lady may proceed a gem,
Is our best having.

To lighten all this isle? --I'll to the king,
Anne. By my troth, and maidenhead,

And say, I spoke with you.
I would not be a queen.

Anne. My honour'd lord! (Exit Lord Chamberlain.
Old L. Beshrew me, I would,

Old L. Why, this it is; see, see!
And venture maidenhead for’t; and so would you, I have been begging sixteen years in court,
For all this spice of your hypocrisy:

(Am yet a courtier beggarly,) nor could
You, that have so fair parts of woman on you, Come pat betwist too early and too late,
Have too a woman's heart; which ever yet

For any suit of pounds : and you, (O fate!)
Affected eminence, wealth, sovereignty;

A very fresh fish here, (fye, fye upon
Which, to say sooth, are blessings: and which gifts This compellid fortune have your month fill'd up,
(Saving your mincing) the capacity

Before you open it.
Of your soft cheveril conscience would receive, Anne. This is strange to me.
If you might please to stretch it.

Old L. How tastes it? is it bitter? forty pence, no.
Anne. Nay, good troth, -

There was a lady once, ('tis an old story,
Old L. Yes, troth, and troth, – You would not be That would ñot be a queen, that would she not,
a queen?

For a'l the mud in Egypt:- have you heard it?
Anne. No, not for all the riches under heaven. Anne, Come, you are pleasant.
Old L. 'Tis strange; a three-pence bowed would old L. With your theme, I could

O'ermount the lark. The marchioness of Pembroke!
Old as I am, to queen it: but, I pray you, A thousand pounds a-year! for pure respect;
What think you of a dutchess ? have you limbs No other obligation: by my life,
To bear that load of title?

That promises more thousands.' Honours train
Anne. No, in truth.

Is longer than his foreskirt. By this time,
Old L. Then you are weakly made: pluck off a little; I know, your back will bear a dntchess ;- say,

[ocr errors]


[ocr errors]

hire me,

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors][ocr errors]

Are you not stronger, than


That I have been your wife, in this obedience,
Anne. Good lady!

Upward of twenty years, and have been blest
Make yourself mirth with your particular fancy, With many children by you. If, in the course
And leave me out on't. 'Would I had no being, And process of this time, you can report,
If this salute my blood a jot; it faints me,

And prove it too, against mine honour aught,
To think what follows.

My bond to wedlock, or my love and duty,
The queen is comfortless, and we forgetful Against your sacred person, in God's name,
In our long absence. Pray, do not deliver

Turn me away; and let the foul'st contempt
What here you have heard, to her.

Shut door upon me, and so give me up
Old L. What do you think me? [Exeunt. To the sharpest kind of justice. Please you, sir !

The king, your father, was reputed for
SCENE IV.- A hall in Black-Friars. A prince most prudent, of an excellent
Trumpets, sennet, and cornets. Enter two Vergers, And unmatch'd wit and judgment: Ferdinand,
with short silver wands; next them, two Scribes, in My father, king of Spain, was reckon'd one
the habits of doctors; after them, the Archbishop The wisest prince, that there had reigu'd by many
of Canterbury alone; after him, the Bishops of Lir- A year before. It is not to be question’d,
colx, Ely, RochesTER, and Saint Asaph; next them, That they had gather'd a wise council to them
with some small distance, follows a Gentleman, Of every realm, that did debate this business,
bearing the purse, with the great seal, and a car- Who deem'd our marriage lawful. Wherefore I
dinal's hat; then two Priests, bearing each a sil- humbly
ver cross; then a Gentleman-Usher bare-headed, Beseech you, sir, to spare me, till I may
accompanied with a Sergeant at Arms, bearing a Be by my friends in Spain advis’d; whose counsel
silver mace; then two Gentlemen, bearing two great I will implore : if not, i’the name of God,
silver pillars; after them, side by side, the two Your pleasure be fulfill'd!
Cardinals Wolsey and Campeius; two Noblemen Wol. You have here, lady,
with the sword and mace. Then enter the King and (And of your choice,) these reverend fathers; men
Queen, and their Truins. The King takes place un- of singular integrity and learning,
der the cloth of state; the two Cardinals sit under Yea, the elect of the land, who are assembled
him as judges. The Queen tukes place at some dis- To plead your cause: it shall be therefore bootless,
tance from the King. The Bishops place themselves That longer you desire the court; as well
on each side the court, in manner of a consistory; For your own quiet, as to rectify
between them the Scribes. The Lords sit next the What is unsettled in the king.
Bishops. The Crier and the rest of the Attendants Cam. His grace
stand in convenient order about the stage. Hath spoken well, and justly: 'therefore, madam,

Wol. Whilst our commission from Rome is read, It's fit this royal session do proceed;
Let silence be commanded.

And that, without delay, their arguments
K. Hen. What's the need ?

Be now produc'd, and heard.
It hath alrearly publicly been read,

Q. Cath. Lord cardinal, -
And on all sides the authority allow'd;

To you I speak.
You may then spare that time.

Wol. Your pleasure, madam ?
IV ol. Be't so. — Proceed!

Q. Cath. Sir!
Scribe. Say, Henry king of England, come into the I am about to weep; but, thinking that

We are a queen, (or long have dream'd so,) certain,
Crier. Ilenry king of England, etc.

The daughter of a king, my drops of tears
K. Hen. Here.

I'll turn to sparks of fire.
Scribe. Say, Catharine queen of England, come into Wol. Be patient yet!

Q. Cath. I will, when you are humble; nay, before,
Crier. Catharine, queen of England, etc. Or God will punish me. I do believe,
[The Queen makes no answer, rises out of her chair, Induc'd by potent circumstances, that
goes about the court, comes to the King, and kneels You are mine enemy; and make my challenge,
at his feet; then speaks.)

You shall not be my judge ; for it is you
Q. Cath. Sir, I desire you, do me right and justice; Have blown this coal betwixt my lord and me,
And to bestow your pity on me: for

Which God's dew quench! — Therefore, I say again,
I am a most poor woman, and a stranger,

I utterly abhor, yea, from my soul,
Born out of your dominions; having here

Refuse you for my judge; whom, yet once more,
No judge indifferent, nor no more assurance I hold my most malicious foe, and think not
of equal friendship and proceeding. Alas, sir ! At all a friend to truth.
In what have I offended yon? what cause

Wol. I do profess,
Hath my behaviour given to your displeasure, You speak not like yourself; who ever yet
That thus you should proceed to put me off, Have stood to charity, and display'd the effects
And take your good grace from me? Heaven witness, of disposition gentle, and of wisdom
I have been to you a true aud humble wife, O’ertopping woman's power. Madam, you do me
At all times to your will conformable:

Ever in fear to kindle your dislike,

I have no spleen against you ; por injustice
Yea, subject to your countenance; glad, or sorry, For you, or any; how far I have proceeded,
As I saw it iuclin'd. When was the hour,

Or how far farther shall, is warranted
I ever contradicted your desire,

By a commission from the consistory,
Or made it not mine too? Or which of your friends Yea, the whole consistory of Rome. You charge me,
Have I not strove to love, although I knew That I have blown this coal: I do deny it:
He were mine enemy? what friend of mine, The king is present: if it be known to him,
That had to him deriv'd your anger, did I That I gainsay my deed, how may he wound,
Continue in my liking? nay, gave notice

And worthily, my falsehood ? yea, as much
He was from thence discharg'd? Sir, call to mind, As you have done my truth. But, if he know



[merged small][ocr errors]


[ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors]
[ocr errors]


That I am free of your report, he knows, The queen is put in anger. You are excus'd:

Cath I am not of your wroug. Therefore in him But will you be more justified ? you ever

That It lies, to cure me; and the cure is, to

Have wish'd the sleeping of this business; never Can Remove these thoughts from you: the which before Desir'd it to be stirrd; but oft have hinder'd; oft

The His highness shall speak in, I do beseech The passages made toward it: – on my houour,

That You, gracious madam! to unthink your speaking, I speak my good lord cardinal to this point,

Mean And to say so no more, And thus far clear him. Now, what mov'd me to't,

Made Q. Cath. My lord, my lord!

I will be bold with time, and your attention: -- She : I am a simple woman, much too weak Then mark the inducement. Thus it came; – gire

K. To oppose your cunning. You are meek, and humble- heed to't: moath'd;

Thes My conscience first receiv'd a tenderness,

This You sign your place and calling, in full seeming, Scruple, an prick, on certain speeches utter'd

With meekness and humility: but your heart By the bishop of Bayonne, then French ambassador;
Is cramm’d with arrogancy, spleen, and pride.

Who had been hither sent on the debating
You have, by fortune, and his highness' favours, A marriage, 'twist the duke of Orleans and
Gone slightly o’er low steps; and now are mounted, Our daughter Mary. I'the progress of this business,
Where powers are your retainers: and your words, Ere a determinate resolution, he
Domestics to you, serve your will, as't please (I mean, the bishop) did require a respite:
Yourself pronounce their office. I must tell you, Wherein he might the king his lord advertise

Yon tender more your person's honour, than Whether our daughter were legitimate,
Your high profession spiritual: that again Respecting this our marriage with the dowager,
I do refuse you for my judge; and here,

Sometimes our brother's wife. This respite shook
Before you all, appeal onto the pope,

The bosom of my conscience, enter'd me,
To bring my whole cause 'fore his holiness, Yea, with a splitting power, and made to tremble
And to be judg’d by him.

The region of my breast; which forc'd such way, (She court'sies to the King, and offers to depart. That many maz'd considerings did throng, Cam. The queen is obstinate,

And press'd in with this caution. First, methought, Stubborn to jnstice, apt to accuse it, and

I stood not in the smile of heaven ; who had Disdainful to be try'd by't ; 'tis not well.

Commanded nature, that my lady's womb, She's going away.

It not conceiv'd a male child by me, should K. Tlen. Call her again.

Do no more offices of life to't, than Crier. Catharine queen of England, come into the The grave does to the dead: for her male issue court!

Or died where they were made, or shortly after Grif. Mudam, you are call'd back!

This world had air’d them. Hence I took a thought, Q. Cath. What need you note it? pray you, keep This was a judgment on me: that my kingdom, your way:

Well worthy the best heir o'the world, should not When you are call’d, return. – Now the Lord help, Be gladded in’t by me: then follows, that They vex me past my patience! - pray you, pass on: I weigh'd the danger, which my realms stood in I will not tarry; no, nor ever more,

By this my issue's fail; and that gave to me
Upon this business, my appearance make Many a groaning throe. Thus hulling in
In any of their courts.

The wild sea of my conscience, I did steer (Exeunt Queen, Griffith, and her other At- Toward this remedy, whereupon we are tendunts.

Now present here together; that's to say, K. Hen. Go thy ways, Kate !

I meant to rectify my conscience, which That man i'the world, who shall report he has I then did feel full sick, and yet not well, A better wife, let him in nonght be trusted, By all the reverend fathers of the land, For speaking false in that. Thou art, alone, And doctors learn’d. — First, I began in private (If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness,

With you, my lord of Lincoln; you remember Thy meekness saint-like, wife-like government, -- How under my oppression 1 did reek, Obeying in commanding, - and thy parts

When I first mov'd you. Sovereign and pious else, could speak thee out,) Lin. Very well, my liege! The queen of earthly queens:- she is noble born; K. Hen. I have spoke long; be pleas'd yourself And, like her true nobility, she has Carried herself towards me.

How far you satisfied me. Wol. Most gracious sir !

Lin. So please your highness, In humblest manner I require your highness, The question did at first so stagger me, That it shall please you to declare, in hearing Bearing a state of mighty moment in't, Of all these ears, (for where I am robb’d and bound, and consequence of dread, – that I committed There must I be unloos’d; although not there The daring'st counsel, which I had, to doubt; At once and fully satisfied,) whether ever I And did entreat your highness to this course, Did broach this business to your highness; or Which you are running here. Laid any scruple in your way, which might

K. llen. I then mov'd you, Induce you to the question on’t? or ever

My lord of Canterbury; and got your leave Have to you,

but with thanks to God for such To make this present summons. A royal lady, — spake one the least word, might I left no reverend person in this court; Be to the prejudice of her present state,

But by particular consent proceeded, Or touch of her good person?

Under your hands and seals. Therefore, go on! K. Hen. My lord cardinal,

For no dislike i'the world against the person I do excuse you; yca, upon mine honour,

of the good queen, but the sharp thorny points I free you from't! You are not to be taught of my alleged reasons, drive this forward That you have many enemies, that know not Prove but our marriage lawful, by my life, Why they are so, but, like to village curs, And kingly dignity, we are contented Bark when their fellows do: by some of these To'wear our mortal state to come, with her

to say


« ZurückWeiter »