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SON G.
Rpheus, with his Lutė, made Trees, ,

And the Mountain tops, that freeze,
Bow themselves when he did sing.
To his Mufick, Plants and Flowers
Ever spring, as Sun and Showers
There had made a lasting Spring.
Every thing that heard him play,
Even the Billows of the Sea,
Hung their Heads, and then lay by.
In fiveet Musick is such Art,
Killing Care, and Grief of Hearts
Fall asleep, or hearing dye.

Enter a Gentleman.
Queen. How now?
Gent. And't please your Grace; the two great Cardinals
Wait in the Presence.

Queen. Would they speak with me?
Gent. They will'd me say so, 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 Wolsey and Campeius. Wol. Peace to your Highness.

Queen. Your Graces find me here part of a House-wisez (I would be all) against the worst may happen : What are your Pleasures with me, Reverend Lords?

Wol. May it please you; Noble Madam, to withdraw
Into your private Chamber ; we shall give you
The full Cause of our coming.

Queen. Speak it here.
There's nothing I have done yet, o’my Conscience;
Deserves a Corner; would all other Women
Could speak this with as free a Soul, as I do:
My Lords, I care not r so much I am happy
Above a number) if my Adions

Were try'd by every Tongue, every Eye saw 'em,
Envy and base Opinion set against 'em,
I know my Life so even. If your

Business
Seck me out, and that way I am Wise in ;
Out with it boldly: Truth loves open Dealing.

Wol. Tanta est erga te mentis integritas, Regina Serenissima.-

Queen. Good my Lord, no Latin ;
I am not such a Truant fince my coming,
As not to know the Language I have liv'd in:
A strange Tongue makes my cause more strange, suspicious:
Pray speak in English); here are some will thank you,
If you speak truth, for their poor Mistress fake';
Believe me she has had much wrong. Lord Cardinal,
The willing'st Sin I ever yet committed,
May be absolv'd in English

Wol. Noble Lady,
I am sorry my Integrity should breed
(And Service to his Majesty and you)
So deep Suspicion, where all Faith was meant ;
We come not by the

way of Accusation,
To taint that Honour every good Tongue blesses ;
Nor to betray you any way to Sorrow,
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 honest Mer, our just Opinions,
And comforts to your Cause.

Cam. Most honoured 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 Censure
Both of his Truth and him, (which was too far)
Offers, as I do, in a sign of Peace,
His Service and his Counsel.

Queen, To betray me.
My Lords, I thank you both for your good wills,
Yé speak like honest Men, pray God ye prove so,
But how to make ye suddenly an Answer
In such a point of weight, so near mine Honour,
(More near my Life, I fear) with my weak Wit,
And to such Men of Gravity and Learning;

In truth I know noc. I was set at work
Among my Maids, full little, God knows, looking
Either for such Men, or such Business;
For her fake that I have been, for I feel
The last fit of my Greatness, good your Graces;
Let me have Time and Council for my Cause:
Alas, I am a Woman friendless, hopeless.

Wol. Madam,
You wrong the King's Love with those Fears,
Your Hopes and Friends are infinite.

Queen. In England,
But little for my profit : Can you think, Lord,
That any English Man dare give me Counsel?
Or be a known Friend 'gainst his Highness pleasure;
Though he be grown so desperate to be honest,
And live a Subject? Nay forsooth, my Friends,
They that must weigh out my Afflictions,
They that my trust must grow to, live not here,
They are, as all my other Comforts, far hence
In mine 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 Protearong He's loving and most gracious. 'Twill be much Both for your Honour better, and your Cause : For if the Trial of the Law o'er-take ye, You'll part away disgrac’d.

Wol. He tells you rightly.

Queen. Yetell me what ye with for both; my Ruin Is this

your

Christian Counsel ? Out upon ye, Heav'n is above all yet ; there sits a Judge, That no King can corrupt.

Cam. Your Rage mistakes us.

Queen. The more shame for ye; holy Men I thought ye, Upon my Soul, two reverend Cardinal 'Virtues ; But Cardinal Sins, and hollow Hearts, I fear ye : Mend 'em for Mame, my Lords: Is this your comfort? The Cordial that ye bring a wretched Lady? A Woman lost among ye, laugh'd at, scorn'd? I will not wish ye half my Miseries.

I have more Charity. But say I warnd ye;
Take heed, for Heav'ns fake take heed, lest at once
The burthen of my Sorrows fall upon ye.

Wol. Midam, this is a meer Distraction,
You turn the Good we offer into Envy.

Queen, Ye turn me into nothing. Wo upon ye,
And all such false Professors. Would you have me,
( If you have any Justice, any Pity,
If ye be any thing, but Churchmens Habits)
Put my fick Cause into his Hands that hates me?
Alas, h'as banisid me his Bed already,
His Love too, long ago. I am old, my Lords,
And all the Fellowihip I hold now with him
Is only by Obedience. What can happen
To me, above this wretchedness? All your Studies
Mike me a Curse, like this.

Cam. Your fears are worse.

Queen. Have I liv'd thus long (let me speak my self, Since Virtue finds no Friends) a Wife, a true one? A Woman (I dare say without Vain-glory) Never yet branded with Suspicion ? Have I, with all my full Affections Still met the King? lov'd him next Heav'n, obey'd him? Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him? Almost forgot my Prayers to content him? And am I thus rewarded ? 'tis not well, Lords. B ing me a constant Woman to her Husband, One that ne’er dream'd a Joy, beyond his pleasure: And to that Woman, when she has done moft, Yet will I add an Honour; a great Patience.

Wol. Madam, you wander from the good

We aim at.

Queen, My Lord,
I dare not make my self fo guilty,
To give up willingly that noble Title
Your Master wed me to: Nothing but Death
Shall e'er divorce my Dignities.

Wol. Pray, hear me -

Queen. Would I had never trod this English Earth,
Or telt the Flatteries that grow upon it:
Ye have Angels Faces, but Heav'n knows your Hearts.

Wha!

What shall become of me now! wretched Lady!
I am the most unhappy Woman living.
Alas, poor Wenches, where are now your Fortunes?

[To her Women,
Ship-wrack'd upon a Kingdom, where no. Pity,
No Friends, no Hope, no Kindred weep for me?
Almost no Grave allow'd me? like the Lilly,
That once was Mistress of the Field, and flourishid,
I'll hang my Head, and perish.

Wol. If your Grace
Could but be brought to know our Ends are honest,
You'll feel more comfort. Why should we,good Lady,
Upon what cause wrong you? Alas, our Places,
The way of our Profession is against it;
We are to cure such Sorrows, not to sow 'em.
For goodness fake consider what you do,
How you may hurt your self, ay, utterly
Grow from the King's Acquaintance, by this Carriage.
The Hearts of Princes kiss Obedience,
So much they love it : But to stubborn Spirits,
They (well and grow as terrible as Storms.
I know you have a gentle, noble Temper,
A'Soul as even as a Calm; pray
Those we profess, Peace-makers, Friends and Servants.

Cam. Madam, you'll find it so:
You wrong your Virtues
With thele weak Womens fears. A Noble Spirit,
As

yours was, P!e into you ever casts
Such doubts as false Coin from it. The King loves you,
Beware you lose it not; for us (if you please
To trust us in your Business) we are ready
To use our utmost Studies in your Service.

Queen. Do what you will, my Lords;
And pray forgive me,
If I have us’d my self unmannerly i
You know I am a Woman, lacking wit
To make a seemly answer to such

Persons.
Pray do my Service to his Majesty,
He has my Heart yet; and shall have my Prayers
While I shall have my Life. Come, Reverend Fathers,
Bestow your Counsels on me.
Counsels on me. She now begs

That

think us,

Q3

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