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mands you

Must give my tendance to.
This paper has undone me: 'Tis the account -

Dare K. Ilen. You have said well.

Of all that world of wealth I have drawn together And Wol. And ever may your highness yoke together, For mine own ends; indeed, to gain the popedom,

Sur As I will lend you cause, my doing well And fee my friends in Rome. O negligence,

Your With my well-saying!

Fit for a fool to fall by! What cross devil
K. Hen. 'Tis well said again;
Made me put this main secret in the packet

My sAnd 'tis a kind of good deed, to say well:

I sent the king? Is there no way to cure this? Can And yet words are no deeds. My father lov'd you : No new device to beat this from his brains ?

And He said, he did; and with his deed did crown I know, 'twill stir him strongly; yet I know

To be His word upon you. Since I had my office, A way, if it take right, in spite of fortune

Fares I have kept you next my heart; have not alone Will bring me off again. What's this – To the Pope? And Employ'd you where high profits might come home, The letter, as I live, with all the business

Jo But par'd my present havings, to bestow I writ to his holiness. Nay then, farewell !

Is Do My bouuties upon you. I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness ;

Sur Wol. What should this mean? And, from that full meridian of my glory,

Of gb Sur. The Lord increase this business!

into [ Aside. I haste now to my setting : I shall fall K. Hen. Have I not made you Like a bright exhalation in the evening,

The The prime man of the state? I pray you, tell

And no man see me more. me,

YorIf what I now pronounce, you have found true : Re-enter the Dukes of Norfolk and SUFFOLK, the

Since And, if you may confess it, say withal,

Earl of Surrey, and the LORD Chamberlaix,

MS! If you are bound to us, or no. What say you? Nor. Hear the king's pleasure, cardinal; who comWol. My sovereign! I confess, your royal graces,

Ofo Shower'd on me daily, have been more than could To render up the great seal presently My studied purposes requite; which went

Prom Into our havds; and to confine yourself

Col Beyond all man's endeavours;— my endeavours To Asher-house, my lord of Winchester's, Have ever come too short of my desires,

Till you hear further from his highness, Yet fill’d with my abilities. Mine owo ends

L Wol. Stay! Have been mine so, that evermore they pointed Where's your commission, lords ? words cannot carts

B. To the good of your most sacred person, and Authority so weighty. The profit of the state. For your great graces

Suf. Who dare cross them?

But Heap'd upon me, poor undeserver, I Bearing the king's will from his mouth espressly?

Il Can nothing render but allegiant thanks ;

Wol. Till I find more than will

, or words, to do it, My prayers to heaven for you; my loyalty, (I mean, your malice), know, offícious lords, Which ever has, and ever shall be growing,

16 I dare, and must deny it. Now I feel

Su Till death, that winter, kill it. Of what coarse metal ye are moulded, - envy.

Ite K. Hen. Fairly answer'd;

How eagerly ye follow my disgraces,
A loyal and obedient subject is
As if it red ye! aud how sleek and wanton

So Therein illustrated : the honour of it

Ye
every thing

In Does pay the act of it; as, i'the contrary,

Follow your envious courses, men of malice; The foulness is the punishment. I presume, You have christian warrant for them, and, no doubt,

Ida That, as my hand has open'd bounty to you, In time will find their fit rewards. That seal,

Hi My heart dropp'd love, my power rain'd honour, more You ask with such a violence, the king,

SC On you, than

any; so your hand, and heart, (Mine, and your master,) with his own hand gave me: Your brain, and every function of your power, Bade me enjoy it, with the place and hopours,

Fit Should, notwithstanding that your bond of duty, During my life; and, to confirm his goodness, As 'twere in love's particular, be more

Tied it by letters patents: now, who'll take it? To me, your friend, than any.

Sur. The king, that gave it.
Wol. I do profess,

Wol. It must be himself then.
That for your highness' good I ever labour'd Sur. Thou art a proud traitor, priest!
More than mine own; that am, have, and will be. Wol. Proud lord, thou liest!

T
Though all the world should crack their duty to you, within these forty hours Surrey durst better
And throw it from their soul; though perils did Have burnt that tongue, than said so.
Abound, as thick, as thought could make them, and Sur. Thy ambition,
Appear in forms more horrid; yet my duty, Thou scarlet sin, robb’d this bewailing land
As doth a rock against the chiding flood,

of noble Buckingham, my father-in-law: Should the approach of this wild river break, The heads of all thy brother cardinals, And stand unshaken yours.

(With thee, and all thy best parts bound together, K. Hen. 'Tis nobly spoken:

Weigh'd not a hair of his. Plague of your policy! Take notice, lords, he has a loyal breast,

You sent me deputy for Ireland;
For you have seen him open't. ~ Read o’er this; Far from his succour, from the king, from all

, [Giving him pupers. That might have mercy on the fault thou gav’st him; And, after, this; and then to breakfast, with Whilst your great goodness, out of holy pity, What appetite you have.

Absolv'd him with an axe.
(Exit King, frowning upon Cardinal Wol- Wol. This, and all else

sey: the Nobles throng after him, smi- This talking lord can lay upon my credit,
ling; and whispering.

I answer, is most false. The duke by law
Wol. What should this mean?

found his deserts : how innocent I was What sudden anger's this? how have I reap'd it? From any private malice in his end, He parted frowning from me, as if rain

His poble jury and foul cause can witness,
Leap'd from his eyes. So looks the chafed lion

If I lov'd inany words, lord, I should tell you,
Upon the daring huntsman, that has gallid him ; You have as little honesty as honour;
Then makes him nothing. I must read this paper; That I, in the way of loyalty and truth
I fear, the story of his anger. – 'Tis so :

Toward the king, my ever royal master,

appear in

may bring my ruin !

A

This is my

Dare mate a sounder man, than Surrey can be, Sur. I forgive him.
And all, that love his follies.

Suf. Lord cardinal, the king's further pleasure is, –
Sur. By my soul,

Because all those things, you have done of late Your long coat, priest, protects you; thou should'st By your power legatine within this kingdom, feel

Fall into the compass of a pruemunire,
My sword i'the life-blood of thee else. - My lords, That therefore such a writ be sued against you,
Can ye endure to hear this arrogance?

To forfeit all your goods, lands, tenements,
And from this fellow ? If we live thus tamely, Chattels, and whatsoever, and to be
To be thus jaded by a piece of scarlet,

Out of the king's protection.

arge. Farewell nobility! let his grace go forward, Nor. And so we'll leave you to your meditations, And dare us with his cap, like larks !

How to live better. For your stubborn answer,
Vol. All goodness

About the giving back the great seal to us,
Is poison to thy stomach.

The king shall know it, and, no doubt, shall thank you.
Sur. Yes, that goodness

So fare you well, my little good lord cardinal! of gleaning all the land's wealth into one,

(Exeunt all but Wolsey.
Into your own hands, cardinal, by extortion; Wol. So farewell to the little good you bear me!
The goodness of your intercepted packets, Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness !
Yon writ to the pope, against the king: your goodness, This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth
Since you provoke me, shall be most notorious. The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms,
My lord of Norfolk, - as you are truly noble, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him:
As you respect the common good, the state The third day comes a frost, a killing frost;
Of our despis’d nobility, our issues,

And, when he thinks, good easy man, full surely,
Who, if he live, will scarce be gentlemen,- Ais greatness is a ripening, nips his root,
Produce the grand sum of his sins, the articles And then he falls, as I do. I have ventur'd,
Collected from his life ! – I'll startle you

Like little wanton boys, that swim on bladders,
Worse than the sacring bell, when the brown wench This many summers in a sea of glory;
Lay kissing in your arms, lord cardinal.

But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride
Wol. How much, methinks, I could despise this man, At length broke under me and now has left me
But that I am bound in charity against it ! Weary, and old with service, to the mercy

Nor. Those articles, my lord, are in the king's hand : Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
But, thus much, they are soul ones.

Vain pomp, and glory of this world, I hate ye;
Il'ol. So much fairer,

I feel my heart new open’d, O, how wretched And spotless, shall mine innocence arise,

Is that poor man, that hangs on princes' favours ! When the king knows my truth.

There is, betwixt that smile, we would aspire to,
Sur. This cannot save you.

That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin,
I thank my memory, I yet remember

More pangs and fears, than wars, or women have;
Some of these articles; and out they shall. And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,
Now if you can blush, and cry guilty, cardinal, Never to hope again. —
You'll show a little honesty.

Enter Cromwell, amazedly.
If ol. Speak on, sir!

Why, how now, Cromwell ?
I dare your worst objections: if I blush,

Crom. I have no power to speak, sir.
It is, to see a nobleman want manners.

N'ol. What, amaz'd
Sur. I'd rather want those, than my head. Have At my misfortunes ? can thy spirit wonder,

A great man should decline? Nay, an you weep,
First, that, without the king's assent, or knowledge, I am fallen indeed.
You wronght to be a legate; by which power

Crom. How does your grace?
You maim'd the jurisdiction of all bishops.

IVol. Why, well;
Nor. Then, that, in all you writ to Rome, or else Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell!
To foreign princes, Ego et Rex meus

I know myself now, and I feel within me
Was still inscrib’d; in which you brought the king A peace above all earthly dignities,
To be your servant.

A still and quiet conscience. The king has cur'd me,
Suf. Then, that, without the knowledge

I humbly thank his grace; and from these shoulders, Either of king, or council, when you went

These ruin'd pillars, out of pity, taken
Ambassador to the emperor, you made bold A load, would sink a navy, too much honour:
To carry into Flanders the great seal.

O, 'tis a burden, Cromwell, 'tis a burden,
Sur. Item, you sent a large commission

Too heavy for a man, that hopes for heaven.
To Gregory de Cassalis, to conclude,

Crom. I am glad, your grace has made that right
Without the king's will, or the state's allowance,

use of it.
A league between his highness and Ferrara. Wol. I hope, I have: I am able now, methinks,

Suf. That, out of mere ainbition, you have caus'a (Out of a fortitude of soul I feel,)
Your holy håt to be stamp'd on the king's coin. To endure more miseries, and greater far,
Sur. Then, that you have sentinnumerable substance, Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer.
(By what means got, I leave to your own conscience,) What news abroad?
To furnish Rome, and to prepare the ways,

Crom. The heaviest, and the worst
You have for dignities; to the mere updoing Is your displeasure with the king.
Of all the kingdom. Many more there are,

Wol. God bless him!
Which, since they are of you, and odious,

Crom, The next is, that sir Thomas More is chosen
I will not taiot my mouth with.

Lord chancellor in your place.
Cham, O my lord,

Wol. That's somewhat sudden:
Press not a falling man too far! 'tis virtue: But he's a learned man. May he continue
His faults lie open to the laws; let them,

Long in his highness' favour, and do justice
Not you, correct them! My heart weeps to see him for truth's sake, and his conscience! that his bones,
So little of his great self.

When he has run his course, and sleepsin blessings,

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May have a tomb of orphan's tears wept on 'em!

2 Gent. And so are you. What more?

1 Gent. You come to take your stand here, and beCrom. That Cranmer is return’d with welcome,

hold Install'd lord archbishop of Canterbury.

The lady Anne pass from her coronation ? IV ol. That's news indeed.

2 Gent. 'Tis all my business. Atour last encounter, Crom. Last, that the lady Anne,

The duke of Buckingham came from his trial. Whom the king hath in secrecy long married, 1 Gent. 'Tis very true: but that time offer'd sorrow, This day was view'd in open, as his queen,

This, general joy. Going to chapel; and the voice is now

2 Gent. 'Tis well. The citizens, Only about her coronation.

I am sure, have shown at full their royal minds ;
Wol. There was the weight, that pull’d me down. As, let them have their rights, they are ever forward
O Cromwell,

In celebration of this day, with shows,
The king has gone beyond me, all my glories Pageants, and sights of honour.
In that one woman I have lost for ever.

1 Gent. Never greater,
No sun shall ever usher forth mine honours, Nor, I'll assure you, better taken, sir.
Or gild again the noble troeps, that waited 2 Gent. May I be bold to ask, what that contains,
Upon my smiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell! That paper in

your

hand ? I am a poor fallen man, unworthy now,

1 Gent. Yes; 'tis the list
To be thy lord and master. Seek the king; Of those, that claim their offices this day,
That sun, I pray, may never set! I have told him By custom of the coronation.
What, and how true thou art: he will advance thee; The duke of Suffolk is the first, and claims
Some little memory of me will stir him,

To be high steward; next, the duke of Norfolk, (I know his noble nature,) not to let

He to be earl marshal; you may read the rest. Thy hopeful service perish too. Good Cromwell, 2 Gent. I thank you, sir; had I not known those Neglect him not! make use now, and provide

customs, For thine own future safety!

I should have been beholden to your paper. Crom. O my lord,

But, I beseech you, what's become of Catharine,
Must I then leave you ? most I needs forego The princess dowager? how goes her business ?
So good, so noble, and so true a master?

I Gent. That I can tell you too. The archbishop
Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron, of Canterbury, accompanied with other
With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord. -- Learned and reverend fathers of his order,
The king shall have my service; but my prayers Held a late court at Dunstable, six miles off
For ever, and for ever, shall be yours.

From Ampthill, where the princess lay; to which
11'o!. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear She oft was cited by them, but appear'd not:
In all my miseries; but thou hast forc'd me, And, to be short, for not appearance, and
Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. The king's late scruple, by the main assent
Let's dry our eyes, and thus far hear me, Cromwell! of all these learned men she was divorc'd,
And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be,

And the late marriage made of none 'effect :
And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Since which, she was removed to Kimbolton,
Of me more must be heard of, say, I taught thce, Where she remains now sick.
Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, 2 Gent. Alas, good lady!

[Trumpets.
And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour, The trumpets sound: stand close, the queen is coming.
Found thee way, out of his wreck, to rise in;
A sure and safe one, thongh thy master miss'd it!
Mark but my fall, and that, that ruin'd me!

A lirely flourish of trumpets; then, enter Cromwell, I charge thee, fing away ambition ! 1. Two Judges. By that sin fell the angels; how can man then, 2. Lord Chancellor , with the purse and mace beThe image of his Maker, hope to win by't?

fore him. Lovethyself last! cherish those hearts that hate thee! 3. Choristers singing:

Music Corruption wins not more, than honesty.

4. Mayor of London bearing the mace. Then GarStill in thy right hand carry gentle peace,

ter, in his coat of arms, and on his head To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not!

a gilt copper crown. Let all the ends, thou aim’st at, be thy country's, 5. Marquis Dorset, bearing a sceptre of gold, on Thy God's, and truth’s;then ifthou fall'st, o Cromwell, his head a demi-coronal of gold. D'ith him Thou fall'st a blessed martyr. Serve the king,

the Earl of Surrey, bearing the rod of silAnd, pr’ythee, lead me in :

ver with the dove, crowned with an carts There take an inventory of all I have,

coronet. Collars of ss. To the last penny; 'tis the king's: my robe, 6. Duke of Suffolk, in his robe of estate, his coro And my integrity to heaven, is all

net on his head, bearing a long white wand, I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell, as high-steward. With him, the Duke of Had I but serv'd my God with half the zeal,

Norfolk, with the rod of marshalship, 4 I serv'd my king, he would not in mine age

coronet on his head. Collars of ss. Have left me naked to mine enemies,

7. A canopy borne by four of the Cinque-ports Crom. Good sir, have patience!

under it the Oucen in her robe; in l.er Wol. So I have. Farewell

hair richly adorned with pearl, crownede The hopes of court! my hopes in heaven do dwell.

On each side of her, the Bishops of Lon[Exeunt.

don and Winchester.

8. The old Dutchess of Norfolk, in a coronal or A CT IV.

gold, wrought with flowers, bearing thie

Queen's train.
SCENE I. - A street in Westminster,

9. Certain Ladies or Countesses,

with plain Enter two Gentlemen, meeting.

clets of gold without flowers. 1 Gent. You are well met once again.

2 Gent. A royaltrain, believe me! -- These I know ;

THE ORDER OF THE PROCESSION.

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cir

Who's that, that bears the sceptre ?

And with the same full state pac'd back again 1 Gent. Marquis Dorset :

To York-place, where the feast is held.
And that the earl of Surrey, with the rod.

1 Gent. Sir, you
2 Gent. A bold brave gentleman! And that should be Must no more call it York-place, that is past:
The duke of Suffolk?

For, since the cardinal fell, that title's lost; 1 Gent, 'Tis the same; high-steward.

| 'Tis now the king's, and call'd Whitehall. 2 Gent. And that my lord of Norfolk ?

3 Gent. I know it;
1 Gent. Yes.

But 'tis so lately alter'd, that the old name
2 Gent. Heaven bless thee!(Looking on the Queen. Is fresh about me.
Thou hast the sweetest face, I ever look'd on.- 2 Gent. What two reverend bishops
Sir, as I have a soul, she is an angel;

Were those, that went on each side of the queen ?
Our king has all the Indies in his arms,

3 Gent. Stokesly and Gardiner; the one, of Wins And more, and richer, when he strains that lady: chester, I cannot blame his conscience.

(Newly preferr'd from the king's secretary,)
1 Gent. They, that bear

The other, London.
The cloth of honour over her, are four barons 2 Gent. He of Winchester
Of the Cinque-ports.

Is held no great good lover of the archbishop's,
2 Gent. Those men are happy; and so are all, are The virtuous Cranmer.
near her.

3 Gent. All the land knows that: I take it, she that carries up the train,

However, yet there's no great breach; when it comes, Is that old noble lady, dutchess of Norfolk. Cranmer will find a friend, will not shrink from him. 1 Gent. It is; and all the rest are countesses. 2 Gent. Who may that be, I pray you? 2 Gent. Their coronets say so. These are stars, 3 Gent. Thomas Cromwell; indeed,

A man in much esteem with the king, and truly And, sometimes, falling ones.

A worthy friend. - The king 1 Gent. No more of that!

Has made him master o’the jewel-house, [Exit Procession, with a great flourish And one, already, of the privy-council. of trumpets.

2 Gent. He will deserve more. Enter a third Gentleman.

3 Gent. Yes, without all doubt.
God save you, sir! Where have yon been broiling? Come, gentlemen, ye shall go my way, which
8 Gent. Among the crowd i'the abbey; where a Is to the court, and there ye shall be my guests ;
finger

Something I can command. As I walk thither,
Could not be wedg'd in more, and I am stifled I'll tell ye more.
With the mere rankness of their joy.

Both, You may command us, sir. (Exeunt.
2 Gent. You saw
The ceremony?

SCENE II. – Kimbolton. 3 Gent, That I did.

Enter Catharine, dowager, sick; led between Grif1 Gent. How was it?

Flth and Patience. 3 Gent. Well worth the seeing.

Grif. How does your grace?
2 Gent. Good sir, speak it to us!

Cath. 0, Griffith, sick to death :
3 Gent. As well, as I am able. The rich stream My legs, like loaden branches, bow to the earth,
Of lords, and ladies, having brought the queen Willing to leave their burden. Reach a.chair!-
To a prepar'd place in the choir, fell off

So, - now, methinks, I feel a little ease.
A distance from her, while her grace sat down Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou led'st me,
To rest awhile, some half an hour, or so,

That the great child of honour, cardinal Wolsey,
In a rich chair of state, opposing freely

Was dead ?
The beauty of her person to the people.

Grif. Yes, madam; but, I think, your grace,
Believe me, sir, she is the goodliest woman, Out of the pain you suffer'd, gave no ear to't.
That ever lay by man: which when the people Cath. Pr'ythee, good Griffith, tell me how he died !
Had the full view of, such a noise arose,

If well, he stepp'd before me, happily,
As the shrouds make at sea iu a stiff tempest, For my example.
As loud, and to as many tunes: hats, cloaks, Grif. Well, the voice goes, madam!
(Doublets, I think,) flew up; and had their faces For after the stout earl Northumberland
Been loose, this day they had been lost. Such joy Arrested him at York, and brought him forward
I never saw before. Great bellied women,

(As a man sorely tainted,) to his answer,
That had not half a week to go, like rams

He fell sick suddenly, and grew so ill,
In the old time of war, would shake the press, He could not sit his mule.
And make them reel before them. No man living Cath. Alas, poor man!
Could say, This is my wife, there; all were woven Grif. At last, with easy roads, he came to Leicester,
So strangely in one piece.

Lodg’d in the abbey, where the reverend abbot, 2 Gent. But, 'pray, what followed ?

With all his convent, honourably receiv'd him: 3 Gent. At length her grace rose, and with modest To whom he gave these words : 0 father abbot, paces

An old man, broken with the storms of state,
Came to the altar, where she kneeld, and, saintlike, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye;
Cast her fair eyes to heaven, and pray'd devoutly.'Give him a little earth for charity!
Then rose again, and bow'd her to the people : So went to bed; where eagerly his sickness
When by the archbishop of Canterbury

Pursu'd him still; and, three nights after this
She had all the royal makings of a queen;

About the hour of eight, (which he himself
As holy oil, Edward Confessor's crown,

Foretold, should be his last, ) full of repentance,
The rod, and bird of peace, and all such emblems Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows,
Laid nobly on her: which perform'd, the choir,

lle gave his honours to the world again,
With all the choicest music of the kingdom, His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace.
Together sung Te Deum. So she parted,

Cath. So may he rest; his faults lie gently on him!

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Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak him, Cath. Spirits of peace, where are ye? Are ye all
And yet with charity: He was a man

gone? Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking

And Icave me here in wretchedness behind ye?
Himself with princes; one, that by suggestion, Grif. Madam, we are here.
Ty'd all the kingdom ; simony was fair play; Cath. It is not you, I call for.
His own opinion was his law. I'the presence Saw ye none enter, since I slept?
He would say untruths; and be ever double, Grif. None, madam.
Both in his words and meaning. He was never,

Caih. No? Saw you not, even now, a blessed troop
But where he meant to ruin, pitiful;

Invite me to a banquet; whose bright faces
His promises were, as he then was, mighty; Cast thousand beams upon me, like the sun?
But his performance, as he is now, nothing. They promis'd me eternal happiness,
Of his own body he was ill, and gave

And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel
The clergy ill example.

I am not worthy yet to wear: I shall, Grif. Noble madam,

Assuredly.
Men's evil manners live in brass; their virtues

Grif. I am most joyful, madam, such good dreams
We write in water. May it please your highness Possess your fancy.
To hear me speak his good now?

Cath, Bid the music leave!
Cath. Yes, good Griffith;

They are harsh and heavy to me. [Music ceases. I were malicious else.

Pat. Do you note, Grif. This cardinal,

How much her grace is alter'd on the sudden ?
Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly How long her face is drawn? How pale she looks

,
Was fashion’d to much honour. From his cradle, And of an earthly cold? Mark you her eyes ?
He was a scholar, and a ripe, and good one, Grif. She is going, wench; pray, pray.
Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading, Pat. Heaven comfort her!
Lofty, and sour to them, that lov'd him not;

Enter a Messenger.
But to those men, that sought him, sweet as summer. Mess. An't like your grace,
And though he were unsatisfied in getting,

Cath. You are a saucy fellow : (Which was a sin,) yet in bestowing, madam, |Deserve we no more reverence ? He was most princely: ever witness for him

Grif. You are to blame,
Those twins of learning, that he rais’d in you, Knowing, she will not lose her wonted greatness,
Ipswich, and Oxford ! one of which fell with him, To use so rude behaviour: go to, kneel!
Unwilling to outlive the good that did it;

Mess. I humbly do entreat your highness' pardon ;
The other, though unfinish'd, yet so famous, My haste made me unmannerly. There is staying
So excellent in art, and still so rising,

A gentleman, sent from the king, to see you.
That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue. Cath. Admit him entrance, Grillith! butihis fellow
His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him : Let me ne'er see again!
For then, and not till then, he felt himself,

(Exeunt Griffith and Messenger. And found the blessedness of being little:

Re-enter GRIFFITH, with Capucius.
And, to add greater honours to his age

If my sight fail not,
Than man could give him, he died, fearing God. You should be lord ambassador from the emperor,

Cath. After my death I wish no other herald, My royal nephew, and your name Capucius.
No other speaker of my living actions,

Cap. Madam, the same, your servant.
To keep mine honour from corruption,

Cath. O my lord,
But such an honest chronicler, as Griffith. The times and titles now are alter'd strangely
Whom I most hated living, thou hast made me, With me, since first you knew me. But, I pray you,
With thy religious truth, and modesty,

What is your pleasure with me?
Now in his ashes honour. Peace be with him! Cap. Noble lady,
Patience, be near me still, and set me lower! First, mine own service to your grace; the nest,
I have not long to trouble thee. - Good Griffith, The king's request, that I'would visit
Cause the musicians play me that sad note, Who grieves much for your weakness, and by me
I nam'd my knell, whilst, I sit meditating!

Sends

you his princely commendations, On that celestial harmony I go to.

And heartily entreats you take good comfort.
Sad and solemn music.

Cath. O my good lord, that comfort comes too late;
Grif. She is asleep. Good wench, let's sit down quiet, 'Tis like a pardon after execution.
For fear we wake her! - Softly, gentle Patience! That gentle physic, given in time, had cur'd me;
The Vision. Enter, solemnly tripping one after ano. But now I am past all comforts here, but prayers.

ther six Personages, clad in white robes, wearing How does his highness?
on their heads garlands of bays, and golden vi- Cap. Madam, in good health.

, zards on their faces; branches of bays, or palm, Cath. So may he ever do! and ever flourish, in their hands. They first congee unto her, then when I shall dwell with worms, and my poor name dance; and, at certain changes, the first two hold Banish'd the kingdom! - Patience, is that letter, a spare garland over her head; at which, the I cans'd you write, yet sent away? other four make reverend court’sies; then the two, Pat. No, madam. that held the garland, deliver the same to the Cath. Sir, I most hambly pray you to deliver other next two, who observe the same order in their This to my lord the king. changes, and holding the garland over her head; Cap. Most willing, madam. which done, they deliver the same gurland to the Cath. In which I have commended to his goodness last two, who likewise observe the same order: at The model of our chaste loves, his yonng daughter :-her sleep signs of rejoicing, and holdeth up her Beseeching him, to give her virtuous breeding i hands io heaven: and so in their dancing they (She is young, and of a noble modest nature : vanish, carrying the garland with them. The music i hope, she will deserve well ;) and a little continues.

To love her for her mother's sake, that lord him,

E

C

you;

[Giving it to Catharine.