Imatges de pÓgina
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To York-Place, where the feaft is held.

1 Gen. You must no more call it York-place, that's past.
For fince the Cardinal fell, that title's loft,
'Tis now the King's, and call'd Whitehall.
3 Gen. I know it:

But 'tis fo lately alter'd, the old name
Is fresh about me.

2 Gen. What two reverend bishops Were those that went on each fide of the Queen? 3 Gen. Stokely and Gardiner, the one of Winchester, Newly preferr'd from the King's Secretary: The other, London,

2 Gen. He of Winchester

Is held no great good lover of th' Arch-bishop,
The virtuous Cranmer.

3 Gen. All the land knows that:

However yet there's no great breach; when't comes,
Cranmer will find a friend will not fhrink from him.
2 Gen. Who may that be, I pray you?
3 Gen. Thomas Cromwell,

A man in much esteem with the King, and truly
A worthy friend. The King has made him
Mafter o'th' jewel house,

And one already of the privy-council.

2 Gen. He will deferve more.

3 Gen. Yes, without all doubt.

Come, gentlemen, you fhall go my way,
Which is to th' court, and there fhall be my guests:
Something I can command; as I walk thither
I'll tell ye more.

Both. You may command us, Sir.

*SCENE II.

Enter Katharine Dowager, fick, led between Griffith her gentleman Usher, and Patience her woman.

Grif.HOW does your Grace?

[Exeunt.

Kath. O'Griffith, fick to death:

My

My legs like loaden branches bow to th' earth,
Willing to leave their burthen: reach a chair

So- now methinks I feel a little eafe. [Sitting down.
Didft thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou led'ft me,
That the great child of honour, Cardinal Wolfey,
Was dead?

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Grif. Yes Madam; but I think your Grace, Out of the pain you fuffer'd, gave no ear to't. Kath. Pr'ythee, good Griffith, tell me how he dy'd, If well, he stept before me happily, For my example.

Grif. Well, the voice goes, Madam.
For after the ftout Earl of Northumberland
Arrefted him at York, and brought him forward
(As a man forely tafted) to his answer,
He fell fick fuddenly, and grew fo ill
He could not fit his mule.

Kath. Alas, poor man!

Grif. At last, with eafy roads he came to Leicester, Lodg'd in the abby; where the rev'rend abbot, With all his convent, 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 fickness Purfu'd him ftill, and three nights after this, About the hour of eight, (which he himself Foretold should be his laft) full of repentance, Continual meditations, tears and forrows, He gave his honours to the world again, His bleffed part to heav'n, and flept in peace. Kath. So may he reft, his faults lie bury'd with him! Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to fpeak him, And yet with charity; he was a man Of an unbounded ftomach, ever ranking Himself with Princes: one that by suggestion Ty'd all the Kingdom; fimony was fair play: His own opinion was his law. I'th' prefence He would fay untruths, and be ever double

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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 now is, nothing.
Of his own body he was ill, and gave
The clergy ill example.

Grif. Noble madam,

Men's evil manners live in brafs, their virtues
We write in water. May it please your Highness
To hear me speak his good now?
Kath. Yes, good Griffith,

I were malicious else.

Grif. This Cardinal,

Though from an humble ftock, undoubtedly
Was fashion'd to much honour. From his cradle
He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one;
Exceeding wife, fair spoken, and perfuading;
Lofty and four to them that lov'd him not,
But to those men that fought him, fweet as fummer
And though he were unfatisfy'd in getting,
(Which was a fin) yet in beftowing, Madam,
He was moft princely: Ever witnefs for him
Thofe twins of learning that he rais'd in you
Ipfwich and Oxford! one of which fell with him,
Unwilling to out-live the good he did it :
The other, though unfinish'd, yet so famous,
So excellent in art, and ftill fo rifing,
That Christendom fhall ever fpeak 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, be dy'd, fearing God.
Kath. After my death I wish no other herald,
No other fpeaker of my living actions,
To keep mine honour from corruption,
But fuch an honest chronicler as Griffith.
Whom I moft hated living, thou haft made me
With thy religious truth and modesty,

Now in his ashes honour. Peace be with him!

D

Patience,

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Patience, be near me ftill, and fet me lower.
I have not long to trouble thee. Good Griffith,
Cause the musicians play me that fad note
I nam'd my knell; whilft I fit meditating
On that celestial harmony I go to.

Sad and folemn musick.

Grif. She is afleep: good wench let's fit down quiet, For fear we wake her. Softly, gentle Patience.

The Vifion. Enter folemnly one after another, fix perfonages, 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 reverend curtfies. Then the two that held the garland deliver the fame to the other next two, who obferve the fame order in their changes, and holding the garland over her head. Which done, they deliver the fame garland to the last two, who likewife obferve the fame order. At which, as it were by inspiration, she makes in her fleep figns of rojoycing, and holdeth up her hands to heaven. And fo in their dancing vanish, carrying the garland with them. The mufick continues.

Kath. Spirits of peace, where are ye? are ye gone?
And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye?
Grif. Madam, we're here.
Kath. It is not you I call for,

Saw ye none enter fince I lept?

Grif. None, madam.

Kath. No! faw you not ev'n now a bleffed troop
Invite me to a banquet, whofe bright faces
Caft thousand beams upon me, like the fun?
They promis'd me eternal happiness,
And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel
I am not worthy yet to wear: I fhall affuredly.
Grif. I am moft joyful, madam, fuch good dreams

Poffefs

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Poffefs your fancy.

Kath. Bid the mufick leave,' 'Tis harfh and heavy to me.

[Mufick ceases

Pat. Do you note

How much her Grace is alter'd on the fudden?
How long her face is drawn? how pale fhe looks,
And of an earthly cold? obferve her eyes.
Grif. She is going, wench. Pray, pray,
Pat, Heav'n comfort her.

Enter a Meffenger.

Mef. And't like your Grace-
Kath. You are a fawcy fellow,
Deserve we no more rev'rence?
Grif. You're to blame,

Knowing the will not lofe her wonted greatness,
To ufe fo rude behaviour. Go to, kneel.

Mef. I humbly do intreat your Highness' pardon :
My hafte made me unmannerly. There is staying
A gentleman fent from the King to fee you.

Kath. Admit him entrance, Griffith. But this fellow Let me ne'er fee again. [Exit Meffenger.

Enter Lord Capucius.

If my fight fail not,

You should be lord ambaffador from the Emperor,
My royal nephew, and your name Capucius.
Cap. Madam, the fame, your fervant.
Kath. O my lord,

The times and titles now are alter'd strangely
With me, fince firft you knew me.
What is your pleasure with me?

Cap. Noble lady,

But I pray you,

Firft mine own fervice to your Grace, the next
The King's request that I would vifit you,
Who grieves much for your weakness, and by me
Sends you his Princely commendations,
And heartily intreats you take good comfort.

Kath. O my good lord, that comfort comes too late,
Tis like a pardon after execution;

D 2

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