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Been loose, this day they had been lost. Such joy

I never saw before. Great-bellied women,

That had not half a week to go, like rams

In the old time of war, would shake the press,

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 follow'd?

THIRD GENTLEMAN.

At length her Grace rose, and with modest paces

Came to the altar, where she kneel'd, and saintlike

Cast her fair eyes to heaven, and pray'd devoutly.

Then rose again, and bow'd her to the people;

When by the Archbishop of Canterbury

She had all the royal makings of a queen:

As holy oil, Edward Confessor's crown,

The rod, and bird of peace, and all such emblems

Laid nobly on her; which perform'd, the choir,

With all the choicest music of the kingdom,

Together sung 'Te Deum.' So she parted,

And with the same full state pac'd 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 lately alter'd 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.

Stokesly and Gardiner: the one of Winchester,

Newly preferr'd 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 will 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 House,

And one, already, of the Privy Council.

SECOND 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 command. As I walk thither,

I'll tell ye more.

BOTH.

You may command us, sir.

Exeunt

ACT IV. SCENE 2.

Kimbolton

Enter KATHARINE, Dowager, sick; led between GRIFFITH, her Gentleman Usher, and PATIENCE, her woman

GRIFFITH.

How does your Grace?

KATHARINE.

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 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 suffer'd, gave no ear to't.

KATHARINE.

Prithee, good Griffith, tell me how he died.

If well, he stepp'd before me, happily,

For my example.

GRIFFITH.

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.

KATHARINE.

Alas, poor man!

GRIFFITH.

At last, with easy roads, he came to Leicester,

Lodg'd in the abbey; where the reverend abbot,

With all his covent, honourably 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 honours to the world again,

His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace.

KATHARINE.

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,