The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare

2 Gent. May I be bold to ask what that con- And more, and richer, when he strains that

tains,

That paper in your hand?

1 Gent. Yes; 'tis the list

Of those, that claim their offices this day,

By custom of the coronation.

The duke of Suffolk is the first, and claims

To be high steward; next the duke of Nor-
folk,

He to be earl marshal; you may read the rest.
2 Gent. I thank you, Sir; bad I not known
those customs,

I should have been beholden to your paper.
But, I beseech you, what's become of Katha-
rine,

The princess dowager! how goes her business?
1 Gent. That I can tell you too. The arch-
bishop

Of Canterbury, accompanied with other
Learned and reverend fathers of his order,
Held a late court at Dunstable, six miles off
From Ampthill, where the princess lay; to
which

She oft was cited by them, but appear'd not;
And, to be short, for not appearance, and
The king's late scruple, by the main assent
Of all these learned men she was divorc'd,
And the late marriage made of none effect:
Since which, she was remov'd to Kimbolton,
Where she remains now sick.

[Trumpets.

2 Gent. Alas, good lady !The trumpets sound: stand close, the queen is coming.

THE ORDER OF THE PROCESSION.

A lively flourish of Trumpets; then enter 1. Two Judges.

2. The Lord Chancellor, with the purse and mace before him.

3. Choristers singing.

Then

[Music. 4. Mayor of London bearing the mace. Garter, in his coat of arms, and on his head, a gilt copper crown.

lady:

I cannot blame his conscience.

1 Gent. They, that bear

The cloth of honour over her, are four barns
Of the Cinque-ports.

2 Gent. Those men are happy; and so are all,
are near her.

I take it, she that carries up the train,
Is that old noble lady, duchess of Norfolk.
1 Gent. It is; and all the rest are coun.

2 Gent. You saw

The ceremony?

3 Gent. That I did.

1 Gent. How was it?

3 Gent. Well worth the seeing.

2 Gent. Good Sir, speak it to us.

3 Gent. As well as I am able. The rich
stream

Of lords, and ladies, having brought the queen
To a prepar'd place in the choir, fell off

A distance from her; while her grace sat down To rest a while, some half an hour, or so, In a rich chair of state, opposing freely The beauty of her person to the people. Believe me, Sir, she is the goodliest woman That ever lay by man: which when the people Had the full view of, such a noise arose As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest, 5. Marquis Dorset, bearing a sceptre of As loud, and to as many tunes: hats, cloaks, gold, on his head a demi-coronal of (Doublets, I think,) flew up: and had their gold. With him the earl of Surrey, Been loose, this day they had been lost. Such bearing the rod of silver with the dove, crowned with an earl's coronet. Col lars of SS.

6. Duke of Suffolk, in his robe of estate, his
coronet on his head, bearing a long
With
white wand, as high-steward.
him, the duke of Norfolk, with the
rod of marshalship, a coronet on his
head. Collars of SS.

7. A canopy borne by four of the cinque-
ports; under it, the Queen in her robe;
in her hair richly adorned with pearl,
crowned. On each side of her, the
bishops of London, and Winchester.
8. The old duchess of Norfolk, in a coronal of
gold, wrought with flowers, bearing the
Queen's train.

9. Certain Ladies or Countesses, with plain
circlets of gold without flowers.

faces

joy

I never saw before. Great-bellied women
That had not half a week to go, like rams
In the old time of war, would shake the press,

No man

And make them reel before them.
living
Could say, This is my wife, there; all were
So strangely in one piece.

woven

2 Gent. But, 'pray, what follow'd?

2 Gent. At length her grace rose, and with modest paces Came to the altar; where she kneel'd, and,

Cast

saint-like,

her fair eyes to heaven, and pray'd de-
voutly.

Then rose again, and bow'd her to the people;
When by the archbishop of Canterbury
She had all the royal makings of a queen;

2 Gent. A royal train, believe me.--These I As holy oil, Edward Confessor's crown,

The rod, and bird of peace, and all such em-
blems

Laid nobly on her; which perform'd, the choir,
With all the choicest music of the kingdom,

2 Gent. A bold brave gentleman: And that Together sung Te Deum. So she parted,

Aud with the same full state pac'd back again
To York-place, where the feast is held.
1 Gent. Sir, you

Must no more call it York-place, that is past :
For, since the cardinal fell, that title's lost;
'Tis now the king's, and call'd-Whitehall.
3 Gent. I know it;

But 'us so lately alter'd, that the old name
Is fresh about me.

2 Gent. What two reverend bishops
Were those that went on each side of th

queen?

3 Gent, Stokesly and Gardiner; the one, of Of his own body he was ill,⚫ and gave

Winchester,

(Newly preferr'd from the king's secretary,) The other, London.

2 Gent. He of Winchester

Is held no great good lover of the archbishop's, The virtuous Cranmer.

3 Gent. All the land knows that:

However, yet there's no great breach; when it comes,

Cranmer will find a friend will not shrink from him.

2 Gent. Who may that be, I pray you? 3 Gent. Thomas Cromwell;

A man in much esteem with the king, and truly
A worthy friend.-The king

Has made him master o'the jewel house,
And one, already, of the privy-council.
2 Gent. He will deserve more.

3 Gent. Yes, without all doubt.

Come, gentlemen, ye shall go my way, which
Is to the court, and there ye shall be my guests;
Something I can command. As I walk thither,
I'll tell ye more.

Both. You may command us, Sir. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.-Kimbolton.

Enter KATHARINE, Dowager, sick ; led between GRIFFITH and PATIENCE. Grif. How does your grace? Kath. O Griffith, sick to death: My legs, like loaden branches, bow to the earth, Willing to leave their burden: Reach a chair ;So, now, methinks, I feel a little ease. Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou led'st

me,

That the great child of honour, cardinal Wolsey, Was dead?

Grif. Yes, madam; but, I think, your grace, Out of the pain you suffer'd, gave no ear to't. Kath. Pr'ythee, good Griffith, tell me how he died:

If well, he stepp'd before me, happily ⚫
For my example.

Grif. Well, the voice goes, madam:
For after the stout carl Northumberland
Arrested him at York, and brought bin forward
(As a man sorely tainted,) to his answer,
He fell sick suddenly, and grew so ill,
He could not sit his mule.

Kath. Alas! poor man!

Grif. At last, with easy roads, he came to
Leicester,

Lodg'd in the abbey; where the reverend 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 sickness
Pursued him still; and, three nights after this,
About the hour of eight, (which he himself
Foretold should be his last,) fuli of repentance
Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows,
He gave bis honours to the world again,
His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace.
Kath. So may he rest; his faults lie gently
on him!

Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak bim,

And yet with charity,-He was a man
Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking
Himself with princes; one, that by suggestion
Tied all the kingdom: simony was fair play;
His own opinion was his law: 'the presence §
He would say untruths; and be ever double,
Both in his words and ineaning: He was never,
But where he meant to ruin, pitiful:
His promises were, as he then was, mighty;
But his performance, as he is now, nothing.

The clergy ill example.

Grif. Noble madam,

Men's evil manners live in brass; their virtues
We write in water. May it please your highnes

To hear me speak his good now?
Kath. Yes, good Griffith;

I were malicious else.

Grif. This cardinal,

And though he were unsatisfied in getting,
(Which was a sin,) yet in bestowing, madam,
He was most princely: Ever witness for him
Those twins of learning, that he rais'd in you,
Ipswich and Oxford one of which fell with
him,

Unwilling to outlive the good that did it;
The other, though unfinish'd, yet so famous,
So excellent in art, and still so rising,
That Christendom shall ever speak 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, he died, fearing
God.

Kath. After my death 1 wish no other herald,
No other speaker of my living actions,
To keep mine honour from corruption,
But such an honest chronicler as Griffith.
Whom I most hated living, thou hast made me,
With thy religious truth, and modesty,
Now in his ashes honour :

Peace be with

him!Patience, be near me still; and set me lower : I have not long to trouble thee.-Good Griffith, Cause the musicians play me that sad note I nam'd my knell, whilst I sit meditating On that celestial harmony I go to.

Sad and solemn music.

Grif. She is asleep: Good wench, let's sit down quiet,

For fear we wake her ;-Softly, gentle Patience.

The Vision. Enter, solemnly tripping one after another, six Personages, 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 court'sies; then the two that held the garland, deliver the same to the other next two, who observe the same order in their changes, and holding the garland over her head: which done, they deliver the same garland to the last two, who likewise observe the same order; at which, (as it were by inspiration,) she makes in her sleep signs of 'rejoicing, and holdeth up her hands to heaven: and so in their dancing they vanish, carrying the garland with them. The music continues.

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

Enter a MESSENGER.

Mess. An't like your grace,

Kath. You are a saucy fellow :

Deserve we no more reverence?

Grif. You are to blame,

I hope, she will deserve well;) and a little
To love her for her mother's sake, that lov'd
him,
Heaven knows how dearly. My next poor
petition

Is, that his noble grace would have some pity
Upon my wretched women, that so long,
Have follow'd both my fortunes faithfully:
Of which there is not one, I dare avow
(And now I should not lie,) but will 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
them.

The last is, for my men :-they are the poorest, But poverty could never draw them from me ;That they may have their wages duly paid them,

And something over to remember me by; If Heaven had pleas'd to have given 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,

Knowing, she will not lose her wonted great. As you wish Christian peace to souls departed,

Stand these poor people's friend, and urge the king

To do me this last right.

Cap. By heaven, I will;

Or let me loose the fashion of a mau !

[me

Kath. I thank you, honest lord. Remember In all bumility unto his bighness: Say, his long trouble now is passing

Out of this world: tell him, in death 1 bless'd him,

For so I will.-Mine eyes grow dim.-Farewell,
My lord-Griffith, farewell.-Nay, Patience,
You must not leave me yet. I must to bed;
Call in more women.-When I am dead, good
wench,

Let me be us'd with honour; strew me over With maiden flowers, that all the world may know

I was a chaste wife to my grave :-embalm me, Then lay me forth: although unqueen'd, yet like

A queen, and daughter to a king, inter me.
I can no more.--

[Exeunt leading KATHARINE.

ACT V.

SCENE I.-A Gallery in the Palace.

Enter GARDINER Bishop of Winchester, a
PAGE with a torch before him, met by Sir
THOMAS LOVELL.

Gar. It's one o'clock, boy, is't not?
Boy. It hath struck.

Gar. These should be hours for necessities,
Not for delights; times to repair our nature
With comforting repose, and not for us
To waste these times. Good hour of night,
Sir Thomas !

Whither so late?

Lov. Came you from the king, my lord? Gar. I did, Sir Thomas; and left him at primero +

With the duke of Suffolk.

Lov. I must to him too,

Before he go to bed. I'll take my leave.

Gar. Not yet, Sir Thomas Lovell. What's the matter?

It seems you are in haste: an if there be
No great offence belongs to't, give you friend
Some touch of your late business: Affairs, tha
walk

Even if he should be. A game at cards.

(As, they say, spirits do,) at midnight, have In them a wilder nature, than the business That seeks despatch by day.

Lov. My lord, I love you;

And durst commend a secret to your ear

Much weightier than this work. The queen's in labour,

They say, in great extremity; and fear'd,
She'll with the labour end.

Gar. The fruit she goes with,
pray for heartily; that it may find

Good time, and live: but for the stock,

Thomas,

wish it grubb'd up now.

Lov. Methinks, I could

Cry the amen; and yet my conscience says She's a good creature, and, sweet lady, does Deserve our better wishes.

Gar. But, Sir, Sir,

K. Hen. What say'st thou ? ha!
To pray for her? what, is she crying cut?
Lov. So said her woman; and that her suffer
ance made

Almost each pang a death.

K. Hen. Alas, good lady!

Suf. God safely quit her of her burden, and
With gentle travail, to the gladding of
Your highness with an heir!

K. Hen. 'Tis midnight, Charles,
Pr'ythee, to bed; and in thy prayers remember
Sir The estate of my poor queen. Leave me alone;
For I must think of that, which company
Will not be friendly to.

Hear me, Sir Thomas: You 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 she,

Sleep in their graves.

Lov. Now, Sir, you speak of two

The most remark'd i'the kingdom. As for Cromwell,

Beside that of the jewel-house, be's made master

O'the rolls, and the king's secretary: further, Sir,

stands in the gap and trade of more preferments,

With which the time will load him: The arch

bishop

Suf. I wish your highness

A quiet night, and my good mistress will Remember in my prayers.

K. Hen. Charles, good night.

[Exit SUFFOLK.

Re-enter DENNY, with CRANMER. K. Hen. Avoid the gallery.

[LOVELL seems to stay.

Is the king's hand, and tongue; And who dare Ha!-I have said.-Begone.

To-morrow morning to the council-board
He be convented. He's a rank weed, Sir
Thomas,

And we must root him out. From your affairs
I hinder you too long good night, Sir Thomas.
Lov. Many good nights, my lord; I rest
your servant.

[Exeunt GARDINER and PAGE. As LOVELL is going out, enter the KING, and the Duke of SUFFOLK.

K. Hen. Charles, I will play no more tonight;

My mind's not on't, you are too hard for me.
Suf. Sir, I did never win of you before.
K. Hen. But little, Charles;
Nor shall not, when iny fancy's on my play.-
Now, Lovell, from the queen what is the

What !

[Exeunt LOVELL and DENNY. Cran. I am fearful :-Wherefore frowns be thus ?

'Tis his aspect of terror. All's not well. K. Hen. How now, my lord? You do desire to know

Wherefore I sent for you.

Cran. It is my duty,

To attend your highness' pleasure.
K. Hen. 'Pray you, arise,

My good and gracious lord of Canterbury.
Come, you and I must walk a turn together;
I have news to tell you: Come, come, give me
your hand,

Ab! my good lord, I grieve at what I speak,
And am right sorry to repeat what follows:
I bave, and most unwillingly, of late
Heard many grievous, I do say, my lord,
Grievous complaints of you; which, being con-
sider'd,

Have mov'd us, and our council, that you shall
This morning come before us; where, I know,
You cannot with such freedom purge yourself,
But that, till further trial, in those charges
Which will require your answer, you must take
Your patience to you, and be well contented
To make your house our Tower: You a brother
of us,
It fits we thus proceed, or else no witness
Would come against you.

Cran. I humbly thank your highness:
And am right glad to catch this good occasion
Most throughly to be winnow'd, where my chaff
And corn shall fly asunder: for, I know,
There's none stands under more calumnious
tongues,

Than I myself, poor man.

K. Hen. Stand up, good Canterbury; Thy truth, and thy integrity, is rooted In us, thy friend: Give me thy hand, stand up; Pr'ythee, let's walk. Now, by my holy-dame, What manner of man are you? My lord, I

look'd

You would have given me your petition, that
I should have ta'en some pains to bring together

One of the council.

Yourself and your accusers; and to have heard | Said I for this, the girl is like to him?

you

Without indurance, further.

Cran. Most dread liege,

The good I stand ou is, my truth and honesty ;
If they shall fail, I, with mine enemies,
Will triumph o'er my person; which I weigh
not,

Being of those virtues vacant. I fear nothing
What can be said against me.

K. Hen. Know you not how

Your state stands i'the world, with the whole world?

Your enemies

Are many, and not small; their practices
Must bear the same proportion: and not ever↑
The justice and the truth o'the question carries
The due o'the verdict with it: At what ease
Might corrupt minds procure knaves as corrupt
To swear against you? such things have been
done.

You are potently oppos'd; and with a malice
Of as great size. Ween you of better luck,
I mean, in perjur'd witness, than your master,
Whose minister you are, whiles here he liv'd
Upon this naughty earth? Go to, go to;
You take a precipice for no leap of danger,
And woo your own destruction.

Cran. God and your majesty

Protect mine innocence, or I fall into
The trap is laid for me!

K. Hen. Be of good cheer;

They shall no more prevail, than we give way

to.

Keep comfort to you; and this morning see You do appear before them; if they shall chance,

In charging you with matters, to commit you,
The best persuasions to the contrary

Fail not to use, and with what vehemency
The occasion shall instruct you: if entreaties
Will render you no remedy, this ring
Deliver them, and your appeal to us

There make before them.-Look, the good man

weeps.

He's honest, on mine honour. God's blest

mother!

I swear, he is true-hearted; and a soul
None better in my kingdom.-Get you gone,
And do as I have bid you.-[Exit CRANMER.]
He has strangled

His language in his tears.

Enter an old LADY.

Gent. [Within.] Come back; What mean you?

Lady. I'll not come back: the tidings that I bring

Will make my boldness manners.-Now, good angels

Fly o'er thy royal head, and shade thy person
Under their blessed wings!

K. Hen. Now, by thy looks

I guess thy message. Is the queen deliver'd ? Say, ay; and of a boy.

Lady. Ay, ay, my liege;

And of a lovely boy: The God of heaven

Both now and ever bless her 'tis a girl,
Promises boys hereafter. Sir, your queen
Desires your visitation, and to be

Acquainted with this stranger; 'tis as like you,
As cherry is to cherry.

K. Hen. Lovell,

Lov. Sir.

Enter LOVELL.

K. Hen. Give her a hundred marks. I'll to the queen. [Exit KING. Lady. A hundred marks! By this light, I'll

have more.

An ordinary groom is for such payment.
I will have more, or scold it out of him.

I will have more, or else unsay't; and now While it is hot I'll put it to the issue.

sures,

And at the door too, like a post with packets.
By holy Mary, Butts, there's knavery:
Let them alone, and draw the curtain close!
We shall hear more anon.-
[Exeunt.

THE COUNCIL-CHAMBER. Enter the Lord CHANCELLOR, the Duke of SUFFOLK, Earl of SURREY, Lord CHAMBERLAIN, GARDINER, and CROMWELL. The Chancellor places himself at the upper end of the table on the left hand; a seat being left void above him, as for the Archbishop of CANTERBURY. The rest seat themselves in order on each side. WELL at the lower end, as secretary.

CROM

Chan. Speak to the business, master secretary:

• Value.

+ Always.

Think.

Why are we met in council?

« Edellinen Jatka »

-kirjat

The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare, Nide 9