Reference > William Shakespeare > The Oxford Shakespeare > The Famous History of the Life of King Henry the Eighth > Act II. Scene IV.
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William Shakespeare (1564–1616).  The Oxford Shakespeare.  1914.

The Famous History of the Life of King Henry the Eighth

Act II. Scene IV.


A Hall in Black-Friars.
 
  
Trumpets, sennet, and cornets. Enter two Vergers, with short silver wands; next them, two Scribes, in the habit of doctors; after them, the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, alone; after him, the BISHOPS OF LINCOLN, ELY, ROCHESTER, and SAINT ASAPH; next them, at some small distance, follows a Gentleman bearing the purse, with the great seal, and a cardinal’s 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; 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; below 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, 
Let silence be commanded.   4
  K. Hen.        What’s the need? 
It hath already publicly been read, 
And on all sides the authority allow’d; 
You may then spare that time.   8
  Wol.        Be’t so. Proceed. 
  Scribe.  Say, Henry King of England, come into the court. 
  Crier.  Henry King of England, come into the court. 
  K. Hen.  Here.  12
  Scribe.  Say, Katharine Queen of England, come into the court. 
  Crier.  Katharine Queen of England, come into the 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  16
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,  20
In what have I offended you? what cause 
Hath my behaviour given to your displeasure, 
That thus you should proceed to put me off 
And take your good grace from me? Heaven witness,  24
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  28
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  32
He were mine enemy? what friend of mine 
That had to him deriv’d your anger, did I 
Continue in my liking? nay, gave notice 
He was from thence discharg’d. Sir, call to mind  36
That I have been your wife, in this obedience 
Upward of twenty years, and have been blest 
With many children by you: if, in the course 
And process of this time, you can report,  40
And prove it too, against mine honour aught, 
My bond to wedlock, or my love and duty, 
Against your sacred person, in God’s name 
Turn me away; and let the foul’st contempt  44
Shut door upon me, and so give me up 
To the sharp’st kind of justice. Please you, sir, 
The king, your father, was reputed for 
A prince most prudent, of an excellent  48
And unmatch’d wit and judgment: Ferdinand, 
My father, King of Spain, was reckon’d one 
The wisest prince that there had reign’d by many 
A year before: it is not to be question’d  52
That they had gather’d a wise council to them 
Of every realm, that did debate this business, 
Who deem’d our marriage lawful. Wherefore I humbly 
Beseech you, sir, to spare me, till I may  56
Be by my friends in Spain advis’d, whose counsel 
I will implore: if not, i’ the name of God, 
Your pleasure be fulfill’d! 
  Wol.        You have here, lady,—  60
And of your choice,—these reverend fathers; men 
Of singular integrity and learning, 
Yea, the elect o’ the land, who are assembled 
To plead your cause. It shall be therefore bootless  64
That longer you desire the court, as well 
For your own quiet, as to rectify 
What is unsettled in the king. 
  Cam.        His Grace  68
Hath spoken well and justly: therefore, madam, 
It’s fit this royal session do proceed, 
And that, without delay, their arguments 
Be now produc’d and heard.  72
  Q. Kath.        Lord Cardinal, 
To you I speak. 
  Wol.        Your pleasure, madam? 
  Q. Kath.        Sir,  76
I am about to weep; but, thinking that 
We are a queen,—or long have dream’d so,—certain 
The daughter of a king, my drops of tears 
I’ll turn to sparks of fire.  80
  Wol.        Be patient yet. 
  Q. Kath.  I will, when you are humble; nay, before, 
Or God will punish me. I do believe, 
Induc’d by potent circumstances, that  84
You are mine enemy; and make my challenge 
You shall not be my judge; for it is you 
Have blown this coal betwixt my lord and me, 
Which God’s dew quench! Therefore I say again,  88
I utterly abhor, yea, from my soul 
Refuse you for my judge, whom, yet once more, 
I hold my most malicious foe, and think not 
At all a friend to truth.  92
  Wol.        I do profess 
You speak not like yourself; who ever yet 
Have stood to charity, and display’d the effects 
Of disposition gentle, and of wisdom  96
O’ertopping woman’s power. Madam, you do me wrong: 
I have no spleen against you; nor injustice 
For you or any: how far I have proceeded, 
Or how far further shall, is warranted 100
By a commission from the consistory, 
Yea, the whole consistory of Rome. You charge me 
That I have blown this coal: I do deny it. 
The king is present: if it be known to him 104
That I gainsay my deed, how may he wound, 
And worthily, my falsehood; yea, as much 
As you have done my truth. If he know 
That I am free of your report, he knows 108
I am not of your wrong. Therefore in him 
It lies to cure me; and the cure is, to 
Remove these thoughts from you: the which before 
His highness shall speak in, I do beseech 112
You, gracious madam, to unthink your speaking, 
And to say so no more. 
  Q. Kath.        My lord, my lord, 
I am a simple woman, much too weak 116
To oppose your cunning. You’re meek and humble-mouth’d; 
You sign your place and calling, in full seeming, 
With meekness and humility; but your heart 
Is cramm’d with arrogancy, spleen, and pride. 120
You have, by fortune and his highness’ favours, 
Gone slightly o’er low steps, and now are mounted 
Where powers are your retainers, and your words, 
Domestics to you, serve your will as’t please 124
Yourself pronounce their office. I must tell you, 
You tender more your person’s honour than 
Your high profession spiritual; that again 
I do refuse you for my judge; and here, 128
Before you all, appeal unto the pope, 
To bring my whole cause ’fore his holiness, 
And to be judg’d by him.  [She curtsies to the KING, and offers to depart. 
  Cam.        The queen is obstinate, 132
Stubborn to justice, apt to accuse it, and 
Disdainful to be tried by’t: ’tis not well. 
She’s going away. 
  K. Hen.  Call her again. 136
  Crier.  Katharine Queen of England, come into the court. 
  Grif.  Madam, you are call’d back. 
  Q. Kath.  What need you note it? pray you, keep your way: 
When you are call’d, return. Now, the Lord help! 140
They vex me past my patience. Pray you, pass on: 
I will not tarry; no, nor ever more 
Upon this business my appearance make 
In any of their courts.  [Exeunt QUEEN, and her Attendants. 144
  K. Hen.        Go thy ways, Kate: 
That man i’ the world who shall report he has 
A better wife, let him in nought be trusted, 
For speaking false in that: thou art, alone,— 148
If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness, 
Thy meekness saint-like, wife-like government, 
Obeying in commanding, and thy parts 
Sovereign and pious else, could speak thee out,— 152
The queen of earthly queens. She’s noble born; 
And, like her true nobility, she has 
Carried herself towards me. 
  Wol.        Most gracious sir, 156
In humblest manner I require your highness, 
That it shall please you to declare, in hearing 
Of all these ears,—for where I am robb’d and bound 
There must I be unloos’d, although not there 160
At once, and fully satisfied,—whether ever I 
Did broach this business to your highness, or 
Laid any scruple in your way, which might 
Induce you to the question on’t? or ever 164
Have to you, but with thanks to God for such 
A royal lady, spake one the least word that might 
Be to the prejudice of her present state, 
Or touch of her good person? 168
  K. Hen.        My Lord Cardinal, 
I do excuse you; yea, upon mine honour, 
I free you from ’t. You are not to be taught 
That you have many enemies, that know not 172
Why they are so, but, like to village curs, 
Bark when their fellows do: by some of these 
The queen is put in anger. You’re excus’d: 
But will you be more justified? you ever 176
Have wish’d the sleeping of this business; never 
Desir’d it to be stirr’d; but oft have hinder’d, oft, 
The passages made toward it. On my honour, 
I speak my good Lord Cardinal to this point, 180
And thus far clear him. Now, what mov’d me to ’t, 
I will be bold with time and your attention: 
Then mark the inducement. Thus it came; give heed to ’t: 
My conscience first receiv’d a tenderness, 184
Scruple, and prick, on certain speeches utter’d 
By the Bishop of Bayonne, then French ambassador, 
Who had been hither sent on the debating 
A marriage ’twixt the Duke of Orleans and 188
Our daughter Mary. I’ the progress of this business, 
Ere a determinate resolution, he— 
I mean, the bishop—did require a respite; 
Wherein he might the king his lord advertise 192
Whether our daughter were legitimate, 
Respecting this our marriage with the dowager, 
Sometimes our brother’s wife. This respite shook 
The bosom of my conscience, enter’d me, 196
Yea, with a splitting power, and made to tremble 
The region of my breast; which forc’d such way, 
That many maz’d considerings did throng, 
And press’d in with this caution. First, methought 200
I stood not in the smile of heaven, who had 
Commanded nature, that my lady’s womb, 
If it conceiv’d a male child by me, should 
Do no more offices of life to ’t than 204
The grave does to the dead; for her male issue 
Or died where they were made, or shortly after 
This world had air’d them. Hence I took a thought 
This was a judgment on me; that my kingdom, 208
Well worthy the best heir o’ the world, should not 
Be gladded in ’t by me. Then follows that 
I weigh’d the danger which my realms stood in 
By this my issue’s fail; and that gave to me 212
Many a groaning throe. Thus hulling in 
The wild sea of my conscience, I did steer 
Toward this remedy, whereupon we are 
Now present here together; that ’s to say, 216
I meant to rectify my conscience, which 
I then did feel full sick, and yet not well, 
By all the rev’rend fathers of the land 
And doctors learn’d. First, I began in private 220
With you, my Lord of Lincoln; you remember 
How under my oppression I did reek, 
When I first mov’d you. 
  Lin.        Very well, my liege. 224
  K. Hen.  I have spoke long: be pleas’d yourself to say 
How far you satisfied me. 
  Lin.        So please your highness, 
The question did at first so stagger me, 228
Bearing a state of mighty moment in ’t, 
And consequence of dread, that I committed 
The daring’st counsel that I had to doubt; 
And did entreat your highness to this course 232
Which you are running here. 
  K. Hen.        Then I mov’d you, 
My Lord of Canterbury, and got your leave 
To make this present summons. Unsolicited 236
I left no reverend person in this court; 
But by particular consent proceeded 
Under your hands and seals: therefore, go on; 
For no dislike i’ the world against the person 240
Of the good queen, but the sharp thorny points 
Of my alleged reasons drive this forward. 
Prove but our marriage lawful, by my life 
And kingly dignity, we are contented 244
To wear our mortal state to come with her, 
Katharine our queen, before the primest creature 
That’s paragon’d o’ the world. 
  Cam.        So please your highness, 248
The queen being absent, ’tis a needful fitness 
That we adjourn this court till further day: 
Meanwhile must be an earnest motion 
Made to the queen, to call back her appeal 252
She intends unto his holiness.  [They rise to depart. 
  K. Hen.        [Aside.] I may perceive 
These cardinals trifle with me: I abhor 
This dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome. 256
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. 260

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