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My Wolsey, see it furnish’d.-O my lord,
Enter Anne BULLEN and an old Lady.
pinches : His highness having liv'd so long with her: and she So good a lady, that no tongue could ever Pronounce dishonour of her,--by my life, She never knew harm-doing;-0 now, after So many conrses of the sun enthron'd, Still growing in a majesty and pomp,—the wbich To leave is a thousand-fold more bitter, than "Tis sweet at first to acquire,-after this process, To give her the avaunt! it is a pity Would move a monster. Old L.
Hearts of most hard temper Melt and lament for her. Anne.
0, God's will! much better,
Alas, poor lady!
So much the more
By my troth, and maidenhead,
Beshrew me, I would,
And venture maidenhead for’t; and so would you,
Nay, good troth, Old L. Yes, troth, and troth,--You woulů not bé a
queen ? Anne. No, not for all the riches under heaven.
Old L. 'Tis strange; a threepence bowed would hire Old as I am, to queen it: But, I pray you, [me, What think you of a duchess ? have you limbs To bear that load of title? Anne.
No, in truth.
How you do talk!
In faith, for little England
Enter the Lord Chamberlain.' Cham. Good morrow, ladies. What wer't worth to The secret of your conference?
My good lord,
Cham. It was a gentle business, and becoming
Now, I pray God, amen! Cham. You bear a gentle mind, and heavenly blessings Follow such creatures. That you may, fair lady, Perceive I speak sincerely, and high note's Ta'en of your many virtues, the king's majesty Commends his good opinion to you, and Does purpose honour to you no less flowing Than marchioness of Pembroke; to which title A thousand pound a year, annual support, Out of his grace he adds. Anne.
I do not know,
My honour'd lord.
[Exit Lord Chamberlain. Old L. Why, this it is; see, see! I have been begging sixteen years in court (Am yet a courtier beggarly), nor could Come pat betwixt too early and too late, For any suit of pounds : and you, (O fate!) A very fresh fish here, (fie, fie upon This compellid fortune!) have your mouth fill'd up, Before you open it. Anne.
This is strange to me. Old L. How tastes it? is it bitter? forty pence, no.
There was a lady once ('tis an old story),
Anne. Come, you are pleasant.
With your theme, I could
What do you think me?
[Exeunt. SCENE IV. A Hall in BLACKFRIARS. Trumpets, Sennet, and Cornets. Enter two. Vergers, with short Silver Wands; next them, two Scribes, in the Habits of Doctors; after them, the ARCHBISHOP of CANTERBURY alone; after him, the Bishops of LINCOLN, ELY, ROCIIESTER, and Sr. Asaph; next them, with some small distance, follows a Gentleman bearing the Purse, with the Great Seal, and a Cardinalis Hat; then two Priests, bearing each a Silver Cross; then a Gentleman Usher bare-headed, accompanied with a Sergeant at Arms, bearing a Silver Mace; then two Gentlemen, bearing two great Silver Pillars; after them, side by side, the two Cardinals Wolsey and CAMPEIUS; two Noblemen with the Sword and Mace. Then enter the King and QUEEN, and their Trains. The King takes place under the Cloth of State; the two Cardinals sit under him as
Judges. The Queen takes place, at some distance from the King. The Bishops place themselves on each side the Court, in manner of a Consistory; between them, the Scribes. The Lords sit next the Bishops. The Crier and the rest of the Attendants stand in convenient order about the Stage.
Wol. Whilst our commission from Rome is read,
What's the need?
Be't so :-Proceed.
Crier. Katharine, queen of England, &c. [court. [The Queen makes no answer, rises out of her Chair,
goes about the Court, comes to the King, and kneels at his Feet; then speaks.]
Q. Kath. Sir, I desire you, do me right and justice; And to bestow your pity on me : for I am a most poor woman, and a stranger, Born out of your dominions; having here No judge indifferent, nor no more assurance Of equal friendship and proceeding. Alas, sir, In what have I offended you? what cause Hath my behaviour given to your displeasure, That thús you should proceed to put me off, And take your good grace from me? Heaven witness, I have been to you a true and humble wife, At all times to your will conformable: Ever in fear to kindle your dislike, Yea, subject to your countenance; glad, or sorry, As I saw it inclin'd. When was the hour, I ever contradicted your desire, Or made it not mine too? Or which of your friends Have I not strove to love, although I knew