Act IV, Scene 2
- Enter Katherine, Dowager, sick, led between Griffith, her
- Gentleman Usher, and Patience, her woman.
- How does your Grace?
Katherine2 - 8
- O Griffith, sick to death!
- My legs like loaden branches bow to th’ earth,
- Willing to leave their burden. Reach a chair.
- So; now, methinks, I feel a little ease.
- Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou ledst me,
- That the great child of honor, Cardinal Wolsey,
- Was dead?
Griffith9 - 10
- Yes, madam; but I think your Grace,
- Out of the pain you suffer’d, gave no ear to’t.
Katherine11 - 13
- Prithee, good Griffith, tell me how he died.
- If well, he stepp’d before me happily
- For my example.
Griffith14 - 19
- Well, the voice goes, madam:
- For after the stout Earl Northumberland
- Arrested him at York, and brought him forward,
- As a man sorely tainted, to his answer,
- He fell sick suddenly and grew so ill
- He could not sit his mule.
- Alas, poor man!
Griffith21 - 34
- At last, with easy roads, he came to Leicester,
- Lodg’d in the abbey; where the reverend abbot
- With all his covent honorably receiv’d 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 earth for charity!”
- So went to bed; where eagerly his sickness
- Pursu’d 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 honors to the world again,
- His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace.
Katherine35 - 48
- So may he rest, his faults lie gently on him!
- Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak him,
- And yet with charity. He was a man
- Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking
- Himself with princes; one that by suggestion
- Tied all the kingdom. Simony was fair play;
- His own opinion was his law. I’ th’ presence
- He would say untruths, and be ever double
- Both in his words and meaning. He was never
- (But where he meant to ruin) pitiful.
- His promises were, as he then was, mighty;
- But his performance, as he is now, nothing.
- Of his own body he was ill, and gave
- The clergy ill example.
Griffith49 - 52
- 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 good now?
Katherine53 - 54
- Yes, good Griffith,
- I were malicious else.
Griffith55 - 75
- This Cardinal,
- Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly
- Was fashion’d to much honor. From his cradle
- He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one;
- Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and persuading;
- Lofty and sour to them that lov’d him not,
- But to those men that sought him, sweet as summer.
- And though he were unsatisfied in getting
- (Which was a sin), yet in bestowing, madam,
- He was most princely: ever witness for him
- Those twins of learning that he rais’d in you,
- Ipswich and Oxford! One of which fell with him,
- Unwilling to outlive the good that did it;
- The other (though unfinish’d) yet so famous,
- So excellent in art, and still so rising,
- That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.
- His overthrow heap’d happiness upon him;
- For then, and not till then, he felt himself,
- And found the blessedness of being little;
- And to add greater honors to his age
- Than man could give him, he died fearing God.
Katherine76 - 87
- After my death I wish no other herald,
- No other speaker of my living actions
- To keep mine honor from corruption,
- But such an honest chronicler as Griffith.
- Whom I most hated living, thou hast made me,
- With thy religious truth and modesty,
- Now in his ashes honor. Peace be with him!
- Patience, be near me still, and set me lower;
- I have not long to trouble thee. Good Griffith,
- Cause the musicians play me that sad note
- I nam’d my knell, whilst I sit meditating
- On that celestial harmony I go to.
- Sad and solemn music.
Griffith88 - 89
- 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 reverend 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.
Katherine90 - 91
- Spirits of peace, where are ye? Are ye all gone?
- And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye?
- Madam, we are here.
Katherine93 - 94
- It is not you I call for;
- Saw ye none enter since I slept?
- None, madam.
Katherine96 - 101
- 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 promis’d me eternal happiness,
- And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel
- I am not worthy yet to wear. I shall, assuredly.
Griffith102 - 103
- I am most joyful, madam, such good dreams
- Possess your fancy.
Katherine104 - 105
- Bid the music leave,
- They are harsh and heavy to me.
- Music ceases.
Patience106 - 109
- Do you note
- How much her Grace is alter’d on the sudden?
- How long her face is drawn! How pale she looks,
- And of an earthy cold! Mark her eyes!
- She is going, wench. Pray, pray.
- Heaven comfort her!
- Enter a Messenger.
- And’t like your Grace—
Katherine113 - 114
- You are a saucy fellow,
- Deserve we no more reverence?
Griffith115 - 117
- You are to blame,
- Knowing she will not lose her wonted greatness,
- To use so rude behavior. Go to, kneel.
Messenger118 - 120
- I humbly do entreat your Highness’ pardon,
- My haste made me unmannerly. There is staying
- A gentleman, sent from the King, to see you.
Katherine121 - 125
- Admit him entrance, Griffith; but this fellow
- Let me ne’er see again.
- Exit Messenger.
- Enter Lord Capuchius.
- If my sight fail not,
- You should be lord ambassador from the Emperor,
- My royal nephew, and your name Capuchius.
- Madam, the same; your servant.
Katherine127 - 130
- O my lord,
- The times and titles now are alter’d strangely
- With me since first you knew me. But I pray you,
- What is your pleasure with me?
Lord Capuchius131 - 136
- 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.
Katherine137 - 141
- O my good lord, that comfort comes too late,
- ’Tis like a pardon after execution.
- That gentle physic given in time had cur’d me;
- But now I am past all comforts here but prayers.
- How does his Highness?
- Madam, in good health.
Katherine143 - 146
- So may he ever do, and ever flourish,
- When I shall dwell with worms, and my poor name
- Banish’d the kingdom! Patience, is that letter
- I caus’d you write yet sent away?
- No, madam.
- Giving it to Katherine.
Katherine148 - 149
- Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliver
- This to my lord the King.
- Most willing, madam.
Katherine151 - 178
- In which I have commended to his goodness
- The model of our chaste loves, his young daughter—
- The dews of heaven fall thick in blessings on her!—
- Beseeching him to give her virtuous breeding—
- 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 lov’d him
- Heaven knows how dearly. My next poor petition
- Is, that his noble Grace would have some pity
- Upon my wretched women, that so long
- Have follow’d both my fortunes faithfully,
- Of which there is not one, I dare avow
- (And now I should not lie), but will deserve,
- For virtue and true beauty of the soul,
- For honesty and decent carriage,
- A right good husband (let him be a noble),
- And sure those men are happy that shall have ’em.
- The last is for my men (they are the poorest,
- But poverty could never draw ’em from me),
- That they may have their wages duly paid ’em,
- And something over to remember me by.
- If heaven had pleas’d to have given me longer life
- And able means, we had not parted thus.
- These are the whole contents, and, good my lord,
- By that you love the dearest in this world,
- As you wish Christian peace to souls departed,
- Stand these poor people’s friend, and urge the King
- To do me this last right.
Lord Capuchius179 - 180
- By heaven, I will,
- Or let me lose the fashion of a man!
Katherine181 - 194
- I thank you, honest lord. Remember me
- In all humility unto his Highness.
- Say his long trouble now is passing
- Out of this world; tell him in death I blest him
- (For so I will). Mine eyes grow dim. Farewell,
- My lord. Griffith, farewell. Nay, Patience,
- You must not leave me yet. I must to bed,
- Call in more women. When I am dead, good wench,
- Let me be us’d with honor; strew me over
- With maiden flowers, that all the world may know
- I was a chaste wife to my grave. Embalm me,
- Then lay me forth. Although unqueen’d, yet like
- A queen, and daughter to a king, inter me.
- I can no more.
- Exeunt, leading Katherine.