• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

You are to blame,

Knowing she will not lose her wonted greatness,

To use so rude behaviour. Go to, kneel.

MESSENGER.

I humbly do entreat your Highness' pardon;

My haste made me unmannerly. There is staying

A gentleman, sent from the King, to see you.

KATHARINE.

Admit him entrance, Griffith; but this fellow

Let me ne'er see again. Exit

MESSENGER

Enter LORD CAPUCIUS

If my sight fail not,

You should be Lord Ambassador from the Emperor,

My royal nephew, and your name Capucius.

CAPUCIUS.

Madam, the same-your servant.

KATHARINE.

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?

CAPUCIUS.

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.

KATHARINE.

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?

CAPUCIUS.

Madam, in good health.

KATHARINE.

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?

PATIENCE.

No, madam. [Giving it to

KATHARINE]

KATHARINE.

Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliver

This to my lord the King.

CAPUCIUS.

Most willing, madam.

KATHARINE.

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.

CAPUCIUS.

By heaven, I will,

Or let me lose the fashion of a man!

KATHARINE.

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 bless'd 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 honour; 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

KATHARINE

ACT V. SCENE 1.

London. A gallery in the palace

Enter GARDINER, BISHOP OF WINCHESTER, a PAGE with a torch before him, met by SIR THOMAS LOVELL

GARDINER.

It's one o'clock, boy, is't not?

BOY.

It hath struck.

GARDINER.

These should be hours for necessities,

Not for delights; times to repair our nature

With comforting repose, and not for us

To waste these times. Good hour of night, Sir Thomas!

Whither so late?

LOVELL.

Came you from the King, my lord?

GARDINER.

I did, Sir Thomas, and left him at primero

With the Duke