Imatges de pàgina
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That gentle phyfick giv'n in time had cur'd me;
But now I'm paft all comforts here but prayers.
How does his Highness ?

Cap. Madam, in good health,

Kath. So may he ever do, and ever Alourish,
When I shall dwell with worms, and my poor name
Banish'd the Kingdom. Patience, is that letter
I caus'd you write, yet sent away?

Pat. No, madam.

Kath, Sir, I must humbly pray you to deliver This to my lord the King.

Cap. Most willingly, madam.

Kath. In which I have commended to his goodness
The model of our chaste loves, his young daughter,
(The dews of heav'n fall thick in blessings on her!)
Beseeching him to give her virtuous breeding,
(She's young, and of a noble modest nature,
Ì hope she will deserve well) and a little
To love her for her mother's sake, that lov'd him
Heav'n knows how dearly! my next poor petition
Is, that his noble Grace would have fome pity
Upon my wretched women, that lo long
Have follow'd both my fortunes faithfully;
Of which there is not one, I dare avow
(And now I should not lye) but well deserve,
For virtue and true beauty of the soul,
For honesty and decent carriage,
A right good husband, let him be a noble :
And sure those men are happy that shall have 'em.
The last is for my men; they are the poorest,
But poverty

could never draw 'em from me ;
That they may have their wages duly paid 'em,
And something over to remember me.
If heaven had pleas'd to've giv'n me longer life
And able means, we had not parted thus.
These are the whole contents. And good my lord,
By that you love the dearest in this world,
As you wish christian peace to fouls departed,
Stand these poor peoples friend, and urge the King
To do me this last right.



Cap. By heav'n I will,
Or let me lose the fashion of a man,

Kath. I thank you, honeft lord. Remember me
In all humility unto his Highness;
And tell him, his long trouble now is passing
Out of this world. Tell him, in death i bleft him,
For so I will

-mine eyes grow dim. Farewel,
My lord Griffith farewe nay, Patience,
You must not leave me yet. I must to bed
Call in more women- When I'm dead, good wench,
Let me be us'd with honour, strew me over
With maiden flow'rs, that all the world may know
I was a chafte wife to my grave: embalm me,
Then lay me forth; although un-queen'd, yet like
A Queen and daughter to a King, inter me.
I can no more

[Exeunt, leading Katharine,


Enter Gardener Bishop of Winchester, a page with

torch before bim, met bry Sir Thomas Lovell.



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T's one a clock, boy, is't not?

Boy. It hach ftruck.
Gard. There should be hours for ned

Not for delights; times to repair our

With comforting repose, and not for us
To waste these times. Good hour of night, Sir Thomas,
Whither so late ?
Lov. Came


from the King, my lord ? Gard. I did, Sir Thomas, left him at Primero With the Duke of Suffolk.


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Lov. I must to him too,
Before he go to bed. I'll take my leave.

Gard. Not yet, Sir Thomas Lovell; what's the marter
It seems you are in hafte: And if there be
No great offence belongs to't, give your friend
Some touch of your late business. Affairs that walk,
(As they say spirits do) at midnight, have
In them a wilder nature than the business
That seeks dispatch by day.

Lov. My lord, I love you: And durft commend a secret to your ear Much weightier than this word. The Queen's in labourg They say in great extremity, 'tis fear'd She'll with the labour end..

Gard. The fruit she goes with
I pray for heartily, that it may find
Good time, and live; but for the stock, Sir Thomas)
I wish it grubb'd up now.

Lav. Methinks I could
Cry the Amen, and yet my conscience says
She's a good creature, and (sweet lady) does

our better wishes.
Gard. But Sir, Sir-
Hear me, Sir Thomasy'are a gentleman
Of mine own way, I know you wise, religious,
And let me tell you it will ne'er be well, :
'Twill not, Sir Thomas Lovell, take't of me,
'Till Cranmer, Cromwell, her two hands, and they

in their graves.
Lov. Now, Sir, you speak of two
The most remark'd'i'ch' kingdom; as for Cromwell,
Beside that of the jewel-house, is made master
O'th' Rolls, and the King's Secretary. Further,
Stands in the gap and trade for more preferments,
With which the time will load him. Th’ Arch-bishop
Is the King's hand, or tongue, and who dare fpeak
One syllable against him?

Gard. Yes, Sir Thomas;
There are that dare; and I my self have ventur'd
To speak my mind of him ; indeed this day,

Sir I may tell it you, I think I have
Incens'd'the lords o'th' council, that he is
(For so I know he is, they know he is)
À most arch-heretick, a pestilence
That does infe&t the land; with which they movid
Haye broken with the King, who hath so far
Giv'n ear to our complaint of his

great Grace
And princely care, foreseeing those fell mischiefs
Our reasons laid before him, he hath commanded
To-morrow morning to the council board
He be convented. He's á rank weed, Sir Thomas,
And we must root him out. From your affairs
I hinder you too long : good night, Sir Thomas.

Exeunt Gardiner and page. Lov. Many good nights, my lord, I rest your servant.


Enter King and Suffolk.'
King. Charles, I will play no more to-night,
My mind's not on't, you are too hard for me.

Suf. Sir, I did never win of you before.

King. But little, Charles,
Nor Mall not when my fancy's on my play.
Now Lovel, from the Queen, what is the news

Lov. I could not personally deliver to her
What you commanded me, but by her woman
I sent your message, who return'd her thanks
In greatest humbleness, and beg your Highness
Moft heartily to pray for her.

King. What say'st thou! ha!
To pray for her! what! is she crying out?

Lov. So said her woman, and that ber suff'rance made Almoft each pang a death,

King. Alas, good lady!

Suf. God fafely quit her of her burthen, and
With gentle travel, to the gladding of
Your Highness with an heir.

King. 'Tis midnight, Charles;
Pr'ythee to bed, and in thy prayers remember



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Theftate of my poor Queen. Leave me alone,
For I must think of that which company
Would not be friendly to.

Suf. I wish your Highness
A quiet night, and my good mistress will
Remember in my prayers.
King. Charles, a good night:

[Exit Suffolk; Well, Sir, what follows?

Enter Sir Anthony Denny.
Denny. Sir, I have brought my lord the Arch-bilhop,

commanded me.
King. Ha! Canterbury !
Denny. Yea, my good lord.
King. 'Tis true where is he, Denny ?
Denny. He attends your Highness' pleasure.
King. Bring him to us.

(Exit Denny Lov. This is about that which the bishop Spake, I am happily come bither.

[ 4 side. Entér Cranmer and Denny. King, Avoid the gallery [Lovell seemeth to stay. Ha!--I have gone

[Exeunt Lovell and Denny:

SCENE III. Cran, I am fearful: wherefore frowns he thus ? 'Tis his aspect of terror.

All's not well.
King. How now, my lord ? desire to know
Wherefore I sent for you.

Cran. It is my duty
T' attend your Highness' pleasure.

King. Pray you rise,
My good and gracious lord of Canterbury:
Come you and I must walk a turn together :
I've news to tell you. Come, give me your hand.
Ah my good lord, I grieve at what I speak,
And am right forry to repeat what follows.
I have, and most unwillingly, of late
Heard many grievous, I do say, my lord,


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