Enter a Mellenger.

Mef. An't like your Grace
Cath. You are a faucy fellow,
Deserve we no more rev'rence ?
Grif. You're to blame,

Knowing the will not lofe her wonted greatnefs,
To use fo rude behaviour. Go to, kneel.

Mef. I humbly do intreat your Highness pardon:
My hafte made me unmannerly. There is staying
A gentleman, fent from the King, to fee you.

Cath. Admit him entrance, Griffith. But this fellow Let me ne'er fee again. [Exit Messenger.

Enter Lord Capucius.

If my fight fail not,

You should be lord ambaffador from the Emperor,
My royal nephew; and your name Capucius.
Cap. Madam, the fame, your fervant.

Cath. O my lord,

The times and titles now are alter'd strangely
With me, fince first you knew me. But, I pray you,

What is your pleasure with me?

Cap. Noble lady,

First, mine own service to your Grace; the next,

The King's request that I would vifit

you;

Who grieves much for your weakness, and by me

Sends you his princely commendations,

And heartily intreats you take good comfort.

Cath. O my good lord, that comfort comes too

late;

'Tis like a pardon after execution;

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.

Cath. So may he ever do, and ever flourish, When I fhall dwell with worms, and my poor name Banish'd the Kingdom! Patience, is that letter,

I caus'd you write, yet fent away?

Pat. No, Madam.

$

Cath.

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

Cap. Moft willing, Madam.

Cath. In which I have commended to his goodness The model of our chafte loves, his young daughter; (The dews of heav'n fall thick in bleffings on her!) Befeeching him to give her virtuous Breeding, (She's young, and of a noble modeft nature; I hope, fhe will deferve well) and a little

To love her for her mother's fake, 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 so 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 foul,
For honefty and decent carriage,

A right good husband, let him be a noble :
And, fure, thofe men are happy, that shall have 'em.
The laft 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 fomething over to remember me.

If heav'n 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 wifh chriftian peace to fouls departed,

Stand thefe poor people's friend, and urge the King To do me this laft right.

Cap. By heav'n, I will;

Or let me lofe the fashion of a man!

Cath. I thank you, honeft lord. Remember me In all humility unto his Highness;

And tell him, his long trouble now is paffing
Out of this world. Tell him, in death I bleft him;
For fo I will mine eyes grow dim. Farewel,
My lord--Griffith, farewel-nay, Patience,
You must not leave me yet. I must to bed
Call in more women-

VOL. V.

When I'm dead, good wench,
S

Let

know

Let me be us'd with honour; ftrew me over
With maiden flow'rs, that all the world may
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, interr me.
I can no more—

[Exeunt, leading Catharine.

ACT V. SCENE I.

Before the PALACE.

Enter Gardiner Bishop of Winchester, a Page with a torch before him, met by Sir Thomas Lovell.

Gard. TT's one o'clock, boy, is't not?

I'

Boy. It hath ftruck.

Gard. These fhould be hours for neceffities, Not for delights; times, to repair our nature With comforting repofe, and not for us

To wafte these times. Good hour of night, Sir Thomas; Whither fo late?

Lov. Came you from the King, my lord? Gard. I did, Sir Thomas, and left him at Primere With the Duke of Suffolk.

Lov. I muft to him too,

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

Gard. Not yet, Sir Thomas Lovell; what's the matter?

It seems, you are in hafte: And if there be

No great offence belongs to't, give your friend Some touch of your late buftaefs. Affairs, that walk (As they fay, fpirits do,) at midnight, have

In them a wilder nature, than the business

That fecks dispatch by day.

Lov. My lord, I love you:

And durft commend a fecret to your ear

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

1. In them a wilder nature- -] Wild, for uncommon.

They

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

Gard. The fruit fhe 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.

Lov. Methinks, I could

Cry the Amen; and yet my conscience says,
She's a good creature, and (fweet lady) does
Deferve our better wishes.

Gard. But, Sir, Sir

Hear me, Sir Thomas-You're a gentleman
Of mine own way; I know you wife; 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 fhe,
Sleep in their graves.

Lov. Now, Sir, you speak of two

The most remark'd i'th' kingdom; as for Cromwell,
Befide that of the jewel-house, he's made master
O'th' Rolls, and the King's Secretary: Further,
2 Stands in the gap and tread for more preferments,
With which the time will load him. Th' Archbishop
Is the King's hand, and tongue; and who dare speak
One fyllable 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 fo I know he is, they know he is)

A most arch heretick, a peftilence

That does infect the land; with which they mov'd,
Have broken with the King; who hath so far

Giv'n ear to our complaint, of his

great Grace

And princely care, foreseeing thofe fell mifchiefs
Our reafons laid before him; he hath commanded,
To morrow morning to the council-board

2 Stands in the gap and TRADE for more preferments.] We should read TREAD, i. e, road,

He

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.
[Exeunt Gardiner and Page.

Lov. Many good nights, my lord; I reft your Ser

vant.

SCENE II.

[Exit Lovell.

King.

Changes to an Apartment in the Palace.

C

Enter King and Suffolk.

HARLES, I will play no more to night;
My mind's not on't,

me.

you

you are too hard for

Suf. Sir, I did never win of before.
King. But little, Charles';

Nor fhall not, when my fancy's on my play.

Re-enter Lovell,

Now, Lovell, from the Queen what is the news?
Lov. I could not perfonally deliver to her
What you commanded me, but by her woman
I fent your message; who return'd her thanks
In greatest humblenefs, and begg'd your Highness
Moft heartily to pray for her.

King. What fay't thou! ha!

To pray for her! what! is fhe crying out?

Lov. So faid her woman, and that her fuff'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
Th' eftate of my poor Queen. Leave me alone;
For I muft think of that, which company
Would not be friendly to.

Suf.