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Now present here together; that's to fay;
I meant to rectifie my confcience, (which
I then did feel full fick, and yet not well)
By all the rev'rend fathers of the land
And doctors learn'd. Firft, I began in private
With you my lord of Lincoln; you remember
How under my oppreffion I did reel,
When I first mov'd you.
Lin. Very well, my liege.
King. I have fpoke long; be pleas'd your felf to fay
How far you fatisfy'd me.
Lin. Pleafe your Highness,
The queftion did at firft fo ftagger me,
Bearing a state of mighty moment in't,
And confequence of dread; that I committed
The daring'ft counsel which I had to doubt:
And did intreat your Highness to this course
Which you are running here
King, I then mov'd you
My lord of Canterbury, and got your leave
To make this prefent fummons unfollicited.
I left no rev'rend perfon in this court,
But by particular confent proceeded
Under your hands and feals. Therefore go on;
For no diflike i'th' world against the perfon
Of our good Queen, but the fharp thorny points
Of my alledged reafons drive this forward.
Prove but our marriage lawful, by my life
And kingly dignity, we are contented
To wear our mortal ftate to come, with her.
(Katherine our Queen) before the primeft creature
That's paragon'd i'th' world.
Cam. So please your Highness
The Queen being abfent, 'tis a needful fitness
That we adjourn this court to further day;
Mean while must be an earnest motion
Made to the Queen, to call back her appeal
She intends to his Holinefs.
King. I may perceive
Thefe Cardinals trifle with me: I abhor
This dilatory floth, and tricks of Rome.
My learn'd and well-beloved fervant Cranmer,
Pr'ythee return; with thy approach, I know,
My comfort comes along. Break up the court:
I fay, fet on. [Exeunt, in manner as they enter'd..
A CT III. SCENE I.
Enter Queen and her Women, as at work.
AKE thy lute, wench, my foul grows fad with troubles:
Sing and difperfe: 'em if thou canft leave working.
with his lute,
And the mountain tops that freeze,
Bow themselves when he did fing.
To his mufick, plants and flowers
Ever rofe, as fun and showers
There had made a lafting Spring.
Ev'ry thing that heard him play,
Ev'n the billows of the fea,
Hung their heads, and then lay by..
In fweet mufick is fuch art,
Killing care and grief of heart,
Fall asleep, or hearing die.
Enter a Gentleman.
Queen. How now ?
Gent. And't please your Grace, the two great Cardinals Wait in the prefence.
Queen. Would they speak with me?
Gent. They will'd me fay fo, Madam.
Queen. Pray their Graces
To come near; what can be their business
With me a poor weak woman, fall'n from favour!
I do not like their coming. Now I think on't,
They should be good men, their affairs are righteous,
But all hoods make not monks.
Enter the Cardinals Wolfey and Campeius.
Wol. Peace to your Highness.
Queen. Your Graces find me here part of a House-wife, (I would be all) against the worst may happen: What are your pleafures with me, rev'rend lords?
Wol. May't please you, noble Madam, to withdraw
Into your private chamber; we shall give you
The full caufe of our coming.
Queen. Speak it here.
There's nothing I have done yet, o'my confcience,
Deferves a corner; would all other women
Could fpeak this with as free a foul as I do!
My lords, I care not (fo much I am happy
Above a number) if my actions
Were try'd by ev'ry tongue, ev'ry eye saw 'em,
Envy and bafe opinion fet against 'em :
I know my life fo even. If your business
Do feek me out, and that way I am wife in ;
Out with it boldly: truth loves open dealing.
Wol. Tanta eft erga te mentis integritas, Regina Sere-
Queen. Good my lord, no Latin ;
I am not fuch a truant fince my coming,
As not to know the language I have liv'd in.
A range tongue makes my cause more frange, fuf-
Pray fpeak in English; here are fome will thank you
If you fpeak truth for their poor mistress' fake
Believe me fhe has had much wrong. Lord Cardinal,
The willing 'ft fin I ever yet committed
May be abfolv'd in English.
Wol. Noble lady,
I'm forry my integrity fhould breed
(And fervice to his Majefty and you)
So deep fufpicion, where all faith was meant.'
We come not by the way of accufation,
To taint that honour every good tongue bleffes;
Nor to betray you any way to forrow;
You have too much, good lady: but to know
How you stand minded in the weighty difference
Between the King and you? and to deliver,
Like free and honeft men, our just opinions
And comforts to your caufe.
Cam. Moft honour'd madam,
My lord of York, out of his noble nature,
Zeal and obedience he still bore your Grace,
Forgetting like a good man your late cenfure
Both of his truth and him, (which was too far)
Offers, as I do, in a fign of peace
His fervice and his counfel.
Queen. To betray me.
My lords, I thank you both for your good wills,
Ye fpeak like honeft men, pray God
But how to make ye fuddenly an answer
In fuch a point of weight, fo near mine honour,
(More near my life, I fear) with my weak wit,
And to furch men of gravity and learning,
In truth I know not. I was fet at work
Among my maids; full little, God knows, looking
Either for fuch men, or fuch business.
For her fake that I have been, (for I feel
The last fit of my greatnefs) good your Graces,
Let me have time and council for my cause:
Alas, I am a woman, friendless, hopeless.
Wel. Madam, you wrong the King's love with thofe
Your hopes and friends are infinite.
Queen In England,
But little for my profit: can you think, lords,
That any English man dare give me counfel?
Or be a known friend 'gainst his Highnefs' pleafure,
Though he be grown fo defp'rate to be honeft,
And live a fubject? nay forfooth, my friends
They, that muft weigh out my afflictions,
They, that my truft muft grow to, live not here;
They are, as all my comforts are, far hence
In my own country, lords.
Cam. I would your Grace
Would leave your griefs, and take my counsel.
Queen. How, Sir?
Cam. Put your main cause into the King's protection,
He's loving and moft gracious. Twill be much
Both for your honour better, and your cause :
For if the tryal of the law o'er-take ye,
You'll part away difgrac'd.
Wol. He tells you rightly.
Queen. Ye tell me what ye with for both, my ruin Is this your chriftian counfel? out upon ye. Heav'n is above all yet; there fits a judge, That no King can corrupt.
Cam. Your rage mistakes us.
Queen. The more fhame for ye; holy men I thought ye,
Upon my foul two rev'rend Cardinal virtues;
But Cardinal fins and hollow hearts, I fear ye:
Mend 'em for fhame, my lords: is this your comfort?
The cordial that you bring a wretched lady?
A woman loft among ye, laugh'd at, scorn'd?
I will not wifh ye half my miferies,
I have more charity. But fay I warn'd ye;
Take heed, take heed for heav'ns fake, left at once
The burthen of my forrows fall upon ye.
Wol. Madam, this is a meer distraction,
You turn the good we offer into envy.
Queen. Ye turn me into nothing. Wo upon ye, And all fuch falfe profeffors! Would you have me (If you have any juftice, any pity,
ye be any thing, but churchmens habits)
Put my fick caufe into his hands that hates me?
Alas, b'as banifh'd me his bed already,
His love too, long ago, I'm old, my lords,
And all the fellowship I hold now with him