I am sure, have shown at full their royal10 minds --
As, let 'em have their rights, they are ever forward11 --
In celebration of this day with shows,
Pageants and sights of honour.
FIRST GENTLEMAN Never greater,
Nor, I'll assure you, better taken15, sir.
SECOND GENTLEMAN May I be bold to ask what that contains,
That paper in your hand?
FIRST GENTLEMAN Yes, 'tis the list
Of those that claim their offices this day
By custom of the coronation.
The Duke of Suffolk is the first, and claims
To be High Steward22: next, the Duke of Norfolk, He to be Earl Marshal23: you may read the rest.
SECOND GENTLEMAN I thank you, sir: had I not known those customs,
I should have been beholding25 to your paper: But I beseech you, what's become of Katherine,
The Princess Dowager? How goes her business?
FIRST GENTLEMAN That I can tell you too. The Archbishop
Of Canterbury, accompanied with other
Learned and reverend fathers of his order30, Held a late31 court at Dunstable, six miles off From Ampthill, where the princess lay32: to which She was often cited33 by them, but appeared not: And, to be short34, for not appearance and The king's late scruple, by the main assent35
Of all these learned men she was divorced,
And the late marriage made of none effect37, Since which she was removed to Kimbolton38, Where she remains now sick.
Trumpets
SECOND GENTLEMAN Alas, good lady.
The trumpets sound: stand close41, the queen is coming.
Hautboys
The Order of the Coronation
1. A lively flourish41.1 of Trumpets.
2. Then, [Enter] two Judges.
3. Lord Chancellor, with purse and mace before him.
4. Choristers, singing. Music [being played by musicians].
5. Mayor of London, bearing the mace. Then Garter41.2, in his coat of arms, and on his head he wore a gilt copper crown.
6. Marquis Dorset, bearing a sceptre of gold, on his head a demi-coronal of gold. With him, the Earl of Surrey, bearing the rod of silver with the dove41.4, crowned with an earl's coronet. Collars of esses.
7. Duke of Suffolk, in his robe of estate, his coronet on his head, bearing a long white wand, as High Steward. With him, the Duke of Norfolk, with the rod of marshalship, a coronet on his head. Collars of esses41.5.
8. A canopy, borne by four [Barons] of the Cinque Ports, under it the Queen [Anne] in her robe, in her hair41.8, richly adorned with pearl, crowned. On each side her, the Bishops of London and Winchester.
9. The old Duchess of Norfolk, in a coronal of gold, wrought with flowers, bearing the Queen's train41.10.
10. Certain Ladies or Countesses, with plain circlets of gold without flowers.
Exeunt, first passing over the stage in order and state [while being discussed by the Gentlemen]
SECOND GENTLEMAN A royal train42, believe me: these I know.
Who's that that bears the sceptre?
FIRST GENTLEMAN Marquis Dorset,
And that the Earl of Surrey, with the rod.
SECOND GENTLEMAN A bold brave gentleman. That should46 be
The Duke of Suffolk?
FIRST GENTLEMAN 'Tis the same: High Steward.
SECOND GENTLEMAN And that my lord of Norfolk?
FIRST GENTLEMAN Yes.
He sees Anne
SECOND GENTLEMAN Heaven bless thee!
Thou hast the sweetest face I ever looked on.--
Sir, as I have a soul, she is an angel:
Our king has all the Indies54 in his arms, And more, and richer, when he strains55 that lady: I cannot blame his conscience56.
FIRST GENTLEMAN They that bear
The cloth of honour58 over her, are four barons Of the Cinque Ports59.
SECOND GENTLEMAN Those men are happy,
And so are all are near her.
I take it she that carries up the train
Is that old noble lady, Duchess of Norfolk.
FIRST GENTLEMAN It is, and all the rest are countesses.
SECOND GENTLEMAN Their coronets say so. These are stars indeed,
And sometimes falling66 ones.
FIRST GENTLEMAN No more of that.
[Exit the end of the procession,] and then a great flourish of Trumpets
Enter a Third Gentleman
FIRST GENTLEMAN God save you, sir. Where have you been broiling68?
THIRD GENTLEMAN Among the crowd i'th'Abbey, where a finger69
Could not be wedged in more: I am stifled
With the mere rankness71 of their joy.
SECOND GENTLEMAN You saw
The ceremony?
THIRD GENTLEMAN That I did.
FIRST GENTLEMAN How was it?
THIRD GENTLEMAN Well worth the seeing.
SECOND GENTLEMAN Good sir, speak77 it to us.
THIRD GENTLEMAN As well as I am able. The rich stream
Of lords and ladies, having brought the queen
To a prepared place in the choir, fell off80
A distance from her, while her grace sat down
To rest a while, some half an hour or so,
In a rich chair of state, opposing83 freely The beauty of her person to the people.
Believe me, sir, she is the goodliest85 woman That ever lay by man: which when the people
Had the full view of, such a noise arose87
As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff88 tempest, As loud, and to as many tunes. Hats, cloaks --
Doublets90, I think -- flew up, and had their faces Been loose, this day they had been lost. Such joy
I never saw before. Great-bellied92 women, That had not half a week to go, like rams93
In the old time of war, would shake the press94
And make 'em reel before 'em. No man living
Could say 'This is my wife' there, all were woven
So strangely in one piece.
SECOND GENTLEMAN But, what followed?
THIRD GENTLEMAN At length her grace rose, and with modest paces
Came to the altar, where she kneeled, and saint-like
Cast her fair eyes to heaven and prayed devoutly.
Then rose again and bowed her to the people:
When by the Archbishop of Canterbury
She had all the royal makings104 of a queen, As105 holy oil, Edward Confessor's crown, The rod, and bird of peace, and all such emblems
Laid nobly on her: which performed, the choir,
With all the choicest music108 of the kingdom, Together sung Te Deum. So she parted109, And with the same full state110 paced back again To York Place, where the feast is held.
FIRST GENTLEMAN Sir,
You must no more call it York Place, that's past:
For, since the cardinal fell, that title's lost:
'Tis now the king's, and called Whitehall.
THIRD GENTLEMAN I know it;
But 'tis so lately117 altered, that the old name Is fresh about me.
SECOND GENTLEMAN What two reverend bishops
Were those that went on each side of the queen?
THIRD GENTLEMAN Stokesley and Gardiner, the one121 of Winchester,
Newly preferred122 from the king's secretary: The other, London.
SECOND GENTLEMAN He of Winchester
Is held no great good lover of the archbishop's,
The virtuous Cranmer.
THIRD GENTLEMAN All the land knows that:
However, yet there is no great breach: when it comes,
Cranmer will129 find a friend will not shrink from him.
SECOND GENTLEMAN Who may that be, I pray you?
THIRD GENTLEMAN Thomas Cromwell;
A man in much esteem with th'king, and truly
A worthy friend. The king has made him
Master o'th'Jewel House134, And one already of the Privy Council.
SECON
D GENTLEMAN He will deserve more.
THIRD GENTLEMAN Yes, without all doubt.
Come, gentlemen, ye shall go my way,
Which is to th'court, and there ye shall be my guests:
Something I can command140. As I walk thither, I'll tell ye more.
FIRST and SECOND GENTLEMEN You may command us, sir.
Exeunt
Act 4 Scene 2
running scene 11
Enter Katherine Dowager, sick, led between Griffith, her Gentleman-usher, and Patience, her Woman
GRIFFITH How does your grace?
KATHERINE O Griffith, sick to death:
My legs like loaden3 branches, bow to th'earth,
She sits
Willing to leave their burden. Reach a chair:
So now, methinks, I feel a little ease.
Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou led'st me,
That the great child of honour, Cardinal Wolsey, was dead?
GRIFFITH Yes, madam, but I think your grace,
Out of the pain you suffered, gave no ear to't.
KATHERINE Prithee, good Griffith, tell me how he died.
If well, he stepped before me happily11
For my example.
GRIFFITH Well, the voice13 goes, madam:
For after the stout14 Earl Northumberland Arrested him at York, and brought him forward15, As a man sorely tainted, to his answer16, He fell sick suddenly, and grew so ill
He could not sit18 his mule.
KATHERINE Alas, poor man.
GRIFFITH At last, with easy roads, he came to Leicester20,
Lodged in the abbey, where the reverend abbot,
With all his convent22, honourably received him, To whom he gave these words: 'O father abbot,
An old man, broken with the storms of state,
Is come to lay his weary bones among ye:
Give him a little earth26 for charity.'
So went to bed, where eagerly27 his sickness Pursued him still: and three nights after this,
About the hour of eight, which he himself
Foretold should be his last, full of repentance,
Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows,
He gave his honours to the world again,
His blessed part33 to heaven, and slept in peace.
KATHERINE So may he rest: his faults lie gently on him.
Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak35 him, And yet with charity. He was a man
Of an unbounded stomach37, ever ranking Himself with princes: one that by suggestion38
Tied all the kingdom. Simony39 was fair play: His own opinion was his law. I'th'presence40
He would say untruths, and be ever double41
Both in his words and meaning. He was never,
But where he meant to ruin, pitiful43.
His promises were, as he then was, mighty:
But his performance, as he is now, nothing:
Of his own body he was ill46, and gave The clergy ill example.
GRIFFITH Noble madam,
Men's evil manners live in brass, their virtues
We write in water. May it please your highness
To hear me speak his good51 now?
KATHERINE Yes, good Griffith,
I were malicious else.
GRIFFITH This cardinal,
Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly
Was fashioned to56 much honour. From his cradle He was a scholar, and a ripe57 and good one: Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and persuading:
Lofty59 and sour to them that loved him not: But to those men that sought him, sweet as summer.
And though he were unsatisfied in getting61, Which was a sin, yet in bestowing, madam,
He was most princely: ever witness for him
Those twins of learning that he raised in you64, Ipswich and Oxford65: one of which fell with him, Unwilling to outlive the good that did66 it: The other, though unfinished, yet so famous,
So excellent in art, and still so rising68, That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.
His overthrow heaped happiness upon him:
For then, and not till then, he felt himself,
And found the blessedness of being little72.
And, to add greater honours to his age
Than man could give him, he died fearing God.
KATHERINE After my death I wish no other herald,
No other speaker of my living actions,
To keep mine honour from corruption,
But such an honest chronicler as Griffith.
Whom79 I most hated living, thou hast made me, With thy religious truth and modesty80, Now in his ashes honour: peace be with him.
To Patience
Patience, be near me still, and set me lower82: I have not long to trouble thee. Good Griffith,
Cause the musicians play me that sad note84
I named my knell85, whilst I sit meditating On that celestial harmony86 I go to.
She sleeps
Sad and solemn music
GRIFFITH She is asleep: good wench, let's sit down quiet
For fear we wake her. Softly, gentle Patience.
The Vision
Enter, solemnly tripping one after another, six personages, clad in white robes, wearing on their heads garlands of bays, and golden vizards on their faces, branches of bays or palm in their hands. They first congee unto her, then dance: and at certain changes, the first two hold a spare garland over her head, at which the other four make reverent curtsies. Then the two that held the garland deliver the same to the other next two, who observe the same order in their changes, and holding the garland over her head. Which done, they deliver the same garland to the last two, who likewise observe the same order. At which, as it were by inspiration, she makes in her sleep signs of rejoicing, and holdeth up her hands to heaven. And so, in their dancing vanish, carrying the garland with them. The music continues
KATHERINE Spirits of peace, where are ye? Are ye all gone,
And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye?
GRIFFITH Madam, we are here.
KATHERINE It is not you I call for:
Saw ye none enter since I slept?
GRIFFITH None, madam.
KATHERINE No? Saw you not even now a blessed troop
Invite me to a banquet, whose bright faces
Cast thousand beams upon me, like the sun?
They promised me eternal happiness,
And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel
I am not worthy yet to wear: I shall, assuredly.
GRIFFITH I am most joyful, madam, such good dreams
Possess your fancy102.
KATHERINE Bid the music leave103,
They are harsh and heavy104 to me.
Music ceases
Patience and Griffith speak aside
PATIENCE Do you note
How much her grace is altered on the sudden?
How long her face is drawn? How pale she looks,
And of an earthy cold? Mark her eyes!
GRIFFITH She is going, wench: pray, pray.
PATIENCE Heaven comfort her.
Enter a Messenger
MESSENGER An't like111 your grace--
KATHERINE You are a saucy112 fellow:
Deserve we no more reverence?
To the Messenger
GRIFFITH You are to blame,
Knowing she will not lose her wonted115 greatness, To use so rude behaviour. Go to, kneel.
MESSENGER I humbly do entreat your highness' pardon:
My haste made me unmannerly. There is staying118
A gentleman sent from the king to see you.
KATHERINE Admit him entrance, Griffith. But this fellow
Let me ne'er see again.
Exit Messenger
Enter Lord Caputius [ushered by Griffith]
If my sight fail not,
You should be lord ambassador from the emperor122, My royal nephew, and your name Caputius.
CAPUTIUS Madam, the sam
e. Your servant.
KATHERINE O my lord,
The times and titles now are altered strangely
With me since first you knew me. But I pray you,
What is your pleasure with me?
CAPUTIUS Noble lady,
First mine own service to your grace: the next,
The king's request that I would visit you,
Who grieves much for your weakness, and by me
Sends you his princely commendations,
And heartily entreats you take good comfort.
KATHERINE O my good lord, that comfort comes too late,
'Tis like a pardon after execution:
That gentle physic given in time had137 cured me, But now I am past all comforts here but prayers.
How does his highness?
CAPUTIUS Madam, in good health.
KATHERINE So may he ever do, and ever flourish,
When I shall dwell with worms, and my poor name
Banished the kingdom. Patience, is that letter
I caused you write yet sent away?
Gives it to Katherine
PATIENCE No, madam.
KATHERINE Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliver
Gives the letter to Caputius
This to my lord the king.
CAPUTIUS Most willing148, madam.
KATHERINE In which I have commended to his goodness
The model of our chaste loves, his young daughter150 --
The dews of heaven fall thick in blessings on her --
Beseeching him to give her virtuous breeding152.
She is young, and of a noble modest nature:
I hope she will deserve well -- and a little
To love her for her mother's sake, that loved him,
Heaven knows how dearly. My next poor petition