The Palace at Bridewell. A Room in the QUEEN’S Apartment. | |
| |
The QUEEN and her Women at work. | |
| Q. Kath. Take thy lute, wench: my soul grows sad with troubles; | |
| Sing and disperse ’em, if thou canst. Leave working. | 4 |
| |
| | SONG. |
| |
| Orpheus with his lute made trees, |
| And the mountain tops that freeze, |
| Bow themselves, when he did sing: |
| To his music plants and flowers |
| Ever sprung; as sun and showers |
| There had made a lasting spring. |
| |
| Every thing that heard him play, |
| Even the billows of the sea, |
| Hung their heads, and then lay by. |
| In sweet music is such art, |
| Killing care and grief of heart |
| Fall asleep, or hearing, die. |
| |
| |
Enter a Gentleman. | |
| Q. Kath. How now! | |
| Gent. An ’t please your Grace, the two great cardinals | 8 |
| Wait in the presence. | |
| Q. Kath. Would they speak with me? | |
| Gent. They will’d me say so, madam. | |
| Q. Kath. Pray their Graces | 12 |
| To come near. [Exit Gentleman.] What can be their business | |
| With me, a poor weak woman, fall’n from favour? | |
| I do not like their coming, now I think on ’t. | |
| They should be good men, their affairs as righteous; | 16 |
| But all hoods make not monks. | |
| |
Enter WOLSEY and CAMPEIUS. | |
| Wol. Peace to your highness! | |
| Q. Kath. Your Graces find me here part of a housewife, | 20 |
| I would be all, against the worst may happen. | |
| What are your pleasures with me, reverend lords? | |
| Wol. May it please you, noble madam, to withdraw | |
| Into your private chamber, we shall give you | 24 |
| The full cause of our coming. | |
| Q. Kath. Speak it here; | |
| There’s nothing I have done yet, o’ my conscience, | |
| Deserves a corner: would all other women | 28 |
| Could speak this with as free a soul as I do! | |
| My lords, I care not—so much I am happy | |
| Above a number—if my actions | |
| Were tried by every tongue, every eye saw ’em, | 32 |
| Envy and base opinion set against ’em, | |
| I know my life so even. If your business | |
| Seek me out, and that way I am wife in, | |
| Out with it boldly: truth loves open dealing. | 36 |
| Wol. Tanta est erga te mentis integritas, regina serenissima,— | |
| Q. Kath. O, good my lord, no Latin; | |
| I am not such a truant since my coming | |
| As not to know the language I have liv’d in: | 40 |
| A strange tongue makes my cause more strange, suspicious; | |
| Pray, speak in English: here are some will thank you, | |
| If you speak truth, for their poor mistress’ sake: | |
| Believe me, she has had much wrong. Lord Cardinal, | 44 |
| The willing’st sin I ever yet committed | |
| May be absolv’d in English. | |
| Wol. Noble lady, | |
| I am sorry my integrity should breed,— | 48 |
| And service to his majesty and you,— | |
| So deep suspicion, where all faith was meant. | |
| We come not by the way of accusation, | |
| To taint that honour every good tongue blesses, | 52 |
| Nor to betray you any way to sorrow, | |
| You have too much, good lady; but to know | |
| How you stand minded in the weighty difference | |
| Between the king and you; and to deliver, | 56 |
| Like free and honest men, our just opinions | |
| And comforts to your cause. | |
| Cam. Most honour’d madam, | |
| My Lord of York, out of his noble nature, | 60 |
| Zeal and obedience he still bore your Grace, | |
| Forgetting, like a good man, your late censure | |
| Both of his truth and him,—which was too far,— | |
| Offers, as I do, in sign of peace, | 64 |
| His service and his counsel. | |
| Q. Kath. [Aside.] To betray me. | |
| My lords, I thank you both for your good wills; | |
| Ye speak like honest men,—pray God, ye prove so!— | 68 |
| But how to make ye suddenly an answer, | |
| In such a point of weight, so near mine honour,— | |
| More near my life, I fear,—with my weak wit, | |
| And to such men of gravity and learning, | 72 |
| In truth, I know not. I was set at work | |
| Among my maids; full little, God knows, looking | |
| Either for such men or such business. | |
| For her sake that I have been,—for I feel | 76 |
| The last fit of my greatness,—good your Graces | |
| Let me have time and counsel for my cause: | |
| Alas! I am a woman, friendless, hopeless. | |
| Wol. Madam, you wrong the king’s love with these fears: | 80 |
| Your hopes and friends are infinite. | |
| Q. Kath. In England | |
| But little for my profit. Can you think, lords, | |
| That any Englishman dare give me counsel? | 84 |
| Or be a known friend, ’gainst his highness’ pleasure,— | |
| Though he be grown so desperate to be honest,— | |
| And live a subject? Nay, forsooth, my friends, | |
| They that must weigh out my afflictions, | 88 |
| They that my trust must grow to, live not here: | |
| They are, as all my other comforts, far hence | |
| In mine own country, lords. | |
| Cam. I would your Grace | 92 |
| Would leave your griefs, and take my counsel. | |
| Q Kath. How, sir? | |
| Cam. Put your main cause into the king’s protection; | |
| He’s loving and most gracious: ’twill be much | 96 |
| Both for your honour better and your cause; | |
| For if the trial of the law o’ertake ye, | |
| You’ll part away disgrac’d. | |
| Wol. He tells you rightly. | 100 |
| Q. Kath. Ye tell me what ye wish for both; my ruin. | |
| Is this your Christian counsel? out upon ye! | |
| Heaven is above all yet; there sits a judge | |
| That no king can corrupt. | 104 |
| Cam. Your rage mistakes us. | |
| Q. Kath. The more shame for ye! holy men I thought ye, | |
| Upon my soul, two reverend cardinal virtues; | |
| But cardinal sins and hollow hearts I fear ye. | 108 |
| Mend ’em, for shame, my lords. Is this your comfort? | |
| The cordial that ye bring a wretched lady, | |
| A woman lost among ye, laugh’d at, scorn’d? | |
| I will not wish ye half my miseries, | 112 |
| I have more charity; but say, I warn’d ye: | |
| Take heed, for heaven’s sake, take heed, lest at once | |
| The burden of my sorrows fall upon ye. | |
| Wol. Madam, this is a mere distraction; | 116 |
| You turn the good we offer into envy. | |
| Q. Kath. Ye turn me into nothing: woe upon ye, | |
| And all such false professors! Would ye have me,— | |
| If ye have any justice, any pity; | 120 |
| If ye be anything but churchmen’s habits,— | |
| Put my sick cause into his hands that hates me? | |
| Alas! he has banish’d me his bed already, | |
| His love, too long ago! I am old, my lords, | 124 |
| And all the fellowship I hold now with him | |
| Is only my obedience. What can happen | |
| To me above this wretchedness? all your studies | |
| Make me a curse like this. | 128 |
| Cam. Your fears are worse. | |
| Q. Kath. Have I liv’d thus long—let me speak myself, | |
| Since virtue finds no friends—a wife, a true one? | |
| A woman, I dare say without vain-glory, | 132 |
| Never yet branded with suspicion? | |
| Have I with, all my full affections | |
| Still met the king? lov’d him next heaven? obey’d him? | |
| Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him? | 136 |
| Almost forgot my prayers to content him? | |
| And am I thus rewarded? ’tis not well, lords. | |
| Bring me a constant woman to her husband, | |
| One that ne’er dream’d a joy beyond his pleasure, | 140 |
| And to that woman, when she has done most, | |
| Yet will I add an honour, a great patience. | |
| Wol. Madam, you wander from the good we aim at. | |
| Q. Kath. My lord, I dare not make myself so guilty, | 144 |
| To give up willingly that noble title | |
| Your master wed me to: nothing but death | |
| Shall e’er divorce my dignities. | |
| Wol. Pray hear me. | 148 |
| Q. Kath. Would I had never trod this English earth, | |
| Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it! | |
| Ye have angels’ faces, but heaven knows your hearts. | |
| What will become of me now, wretched lady? | 152 |
| I am the most unhappy woman living. | |
| [To her women.] Alas! poor wenches, where are now your fortunes? | |
| Shipwrack’d upon a kingdom, where no pity, | |
| No friends, no hope; no kindred weep for me; | 156 |
| Almost no grave allow’d me. Like the lily, | |
| That once was mistress of the field and flourish’d, | |
| I’ll hang my head and perish. | |
| Wol. If your Grace | 160 |
| Could but be brought to know our ends are honest, | |
| You’d feel more comfort. Why should we, good lady, | |
| Upon what cause, wrong you? alas! our places, | |
| The way of our profession is against it: | 164 |
| We are to cure such sorrows, not to sow them. | |
| For goodness’ sake, consider what you do; | |
| How you may hurt yourself, ay, utterly | |
| Grow from the king’s acquaintance, by this carriage. | 168 |
| The hearts of princes kiss obedience, | |
| So much they love it; but to stubborn spirits | |
| They swell, and grow as terrible as storms. | |
| I know you have a gentle, noble temper, | 172 |
| A soul as even as a calm: pray think us | |
| Those we profess, peace-makers, friends, and servants. | |
| Cam. Madam, you’ll find it so. You wrong your virtues | |
| With these weak women’s fears: a noble spirit, | 176 |
| As yours was put into you, ever casts | |
| Such doubts, as false coin, from it. The king loves you; | |
| Beware you lose it not: for us, if you please | |
| To trust us in your business, we are ready | 180 |
| To use our utmost studies in your service. | |
| Q. Kath. Do what ye will, my lords: and, pray, forgive me | |
| If I have us’d myself unmannerly. | |
| You know I am a woman, lacking wit | 184 |
| To make a seemly answer to such persons. | |
| Pray do my service to his majesty: | |
| He has my heart yet; and shall have my prayers | |
| While I shall have my life. Come, reverend fathers, | 188 |
| Bestow your counsels on me: she now begs | |
| That little thought, when she set footing here, | |
| She should have bought her dignities so dear. [Exeunt. | |
