K. Hen.

I may perceive,

[Aside.

These cardinals trifle with me: I abhor

This dilatory sloth, and tricks of Rome.
My learn'd and well-beloved servant, Cranmer,
Prithee, return! with thy approach, I know,
My comfort comes along. Break up the court:
I say, set on.

[Exeunt in manner as they entered.

ACT III.

SCENE I.-Palace at Bridewell. A Room in the Queen's Apartment.

The QUEEN, and some of her Women, at work. Q. Kath. Take thy lute, wench: my soul grows sad with troubles :

Sing, and disperse them if thou canst: leave working.

SONG.

Orpheus with his lute made trees,
And the mountain-tops that freeze,
Bow themselves, when he did sing:
To his music, plants and flowers
Ever sprung; as sun and showers

There had made a lasting spring.

Everything that heard him play,
Even the billows of the sea,

Hung their heads, and then lay by.

In sweet music is such art:

Killing care and grief of heart

Fall asleep, or, hearing, die.

Enter a Gentleman.

Q. Kath. How now?

Gent. An 't please your grace, the two great cardinals

Wait in the presence.

Q. Kath.

Would they speak with me?

Gent. They will'd me say so, madam.

Q. Kath.

Pray their graces

To come near. [Exit Gent.] What can be their

business

With me, a poor weak woman, fallen from favour?
I do not like their coming. Now I think on 't,
They should be good men; their affairs as righteous:
But all hoods make not monks.

Wol.

Enter WOLSEY and CAMPEIUS.

Peace to your highness!

Q. Kath. Your graces find me here part of a house

wife;

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.

Q. Kath.

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, care not, (so much I am happy
Above a number,) if my actions

Were tried by every tongue, every eye saw them,
Envy and base opinion set against them,

I know my life so even: If your business
Seek me out, and that way I am wife in,
Out with it boldly: Truth loves open dealing.
Wol. Tanta est ergà te mentis integritas, regina
serenissima,

Q. Kath. O good my lord, no Latin;

I am not such a truant since my coming,

As not to know the language I have liv'd in:

A strange tongue makes my cause more strange, sus

picious;

Pray speak in English: here are some will thank you, If you speak truth, for their poor mistress' sake;

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 men, our just opinions,

And comforts to your cause.

Most honour'd madam,

Cam.
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.

Q. Kath. To betray me. [Aside. My lords, I thank you both for your good wills; Ye 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 inine honour, (More near my life, I fear,) with my weak wit, And to such men of gravity and learning, In truth, I know not. I was set at work Among my maids; full little, God knows, looking Either for such men, or such business. For her sake that I have been, (for I feel The last fit of my greatness,) good your graces, Let me have time, and counsel, for my cause;

Alas! I am a woman, friendless, hopeless.

Wol. Madam, you wrong the king's love with these

fears;

Your hopes and friends are infinite.

In England

Q. Kath.
But little for my profit: Can you think, lords,
That any Englishman dare give me counsel ?
Or be a known friend, 'gainst his highness' pleasure,
(Though he be grown so desperate to be honest,)

VOL. VII.

E

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.

Q. Kath.

How, sir? Cam. Put your main cause into the king's protection; He's loving, and most gracious; 't will be much

Both for your honour better, and your cause;

For, if the trial of the law o'ertake you,

You'll part away disgrac'd.

Wol.

He tells you rightly.

Q. Kath. Ye tell me what ye wish for both, my ruin: Is this your christian counsel ? out upon ye!

Heaven is above all yet; there sits a Judge
That no king can corrupt.

Cam.

Your rage mistakes us.

Q. Kath. 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 them, for shame, 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 warn'd ye;

Take heed, for heaven's sake, take heed, lest at once
The burden of my sorrows fall upon ye.

Wol. Madam, this is a mere distraction;

You turn the good we offer into envy.

Q. Kath. Ye turn me into nothing: Woe upon ye, And all such false professors! Would ye have me (If you have any justice, any pity;

If

ye be anything but churchmen's habits) a Weigh out-outweigh.