The Complete Works of William Shakespeare Part 234

QUEEN KATHARINE. Lord Cardinal, To you I speak.

WOLSEY. Your pleasure, madam?

QUEEN KATHARINE. Sir, 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.

WOLSEY. Be patient yet.

QUEEN KATHARINE. I Will, when you are humble; nay, before Or G.o.d will punish me. I do believe, Induc'd by potent circ.u.mstances, that 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 G.o.d's dew quench! Therefore I say again, 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.

WOLSEY. I do profess You speak not like yourself, who ever yet Have stood to charity and display'd th' effects Of disposition gentle and of wisdom O'ertopping woman's pow'r. 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 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 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 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 You, gracious madam, to unthink your speaking And to say so no more.

QUEEN KATHARINE. My lord, my lord, I am a simple woman, much too weak T' oppose your cunning. Y'are 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.

You have, by fortune and his Highness' favours, Gone slightly o'er low steps, and now are mounted Where pow'rs are your retainers, and your words, Domestics to you, serve your will as't please Yourself p.r.o.nounce 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, 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]

CAMPEIUS. The Queen is obstinate, Stubborn to justice, apt to accuse it, and Disdainful to be tried by't; 'tis not well.

She's going away.

KING. Call her again.

CRIER. Katharine Queen of England, come into the court.

GENTLEMAN USHER. Madam, you are call'd back.

QUEEN KATHARINE. What need you note it? Pray you keep your way; When you are call'd, return. Now the Lord help!

They vex me past my patience. Pray you pa.s.s 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 KING. Go thy ways, Kate.

That man i' th' world who shall report he has A better wife, let him in nought be trusted For speaking false in that. Thou art, alone- 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- The queen of earthly queens. She's n.o.ble born; And like her true n.o.bility she has Carried herself towards me.

WOLSEY. Most gracious sir, 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 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 Have to you, but with thanks to G.o.d 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?

KING. 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 Why they are so, but, like to village curs, Bark when their fellows do. By some of these The Queen is put in anger. Y'are excus'd.

But will you be more justified? You ever Have wish'd the sleeping of this business; never desir'd It to be stirr'd; but oft have hind'red, oft, The pa.s.sages made toward it. On my honour, I speak my good Lord Cardinal to this point, And thus far clear him. Now, what mov'd me to't, I will be bold with time and your attention.

Then mark th' inducement. Thus it came-give heed to't: My conscience first receiv'd a tenderness, Scruple, and p.r.i.c.k, on certain speeches utter'd By th' Bishop of Bayonne, then French amba.s.sador, Who had been hither sent on the debating A marriage 'twixt the Duke of Orleans and Our daughter Mary. I' th' 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 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, 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 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 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, Well worthy the best heir o' th' 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 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 I meant to rectify my conscience, which I then did feel full sick, and yet not well, By all the reverend fathers of the land And doctors learn'd. First, I began in private With you, my Lord of Lincoln; you remember How under my oppression I did reek, When I first mov'd you.

LINCOLN. Very well, my liege.

KING. I have spoke long; be pleas'd yourself to say How far you satisfied me.

LINCOLN. So please your Highness, The question did at first so stagger me- Bearing a state of mighty moment in't And consequence of dread-that I committed The daring'st counsel which I had to doubt, And did entreat your Highness to this course Which you are running here.

KING. I then mov'd you, My Lord of Canterbury, and got your leave To make this present summons. Unsolicited 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' th' world against the person Of the good Queen, but the sharp th.o.r.n.y points Of my alleged reasons, drives this forward.

Prove but our marriage lawful, by my life And kingly dignity, we are contented To wear our moral state to come with her, Katharine our queen, before the primest creature That's paragon'd o' th' world.

CAMPEIUS. So please your Highness, 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 She intends unto his Holiness.

KING. [Aside] I may perceive These cardinals trifle with me. I abhor This dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome.

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. Exuent in manner as they entered

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ACT III. SCENE 1.

London. The QUEEN'S apartments

Enter the QUEEN and her women, as at work

QUEEN KATHARINE. Take thy lute, wench. My soul grows sad with troubles; Sing and disperse 'em, if thou canst. Leave working.

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

QUEEN KATHARINE. How now?

GENTLEMAN. An't please your Grace, the two great Cardinals Wait in the presence.

QUEEN KATHARINE. Would they speak with me?

GENTLEMAN. They will'd me say so, madam.

QUEEN KATHARINE. Pray their Graces 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; But all hoods make not monks.

Enter the two CARDINALS, WOLSEY and CAMPEIUS

WOLSEY. Peace to your Highness!

QUEEN KATHARINE. Your Graces find me here part of housewife; I would be all, against the worst may happen.

What are your pleasures with me, reverend lords?

WOLSEY. May it please you, n.o.ble madam, to withdraw Into your private chamber, we shall give you The full cause of our coming.

QUEEN KATHARINE. Speak it here; There's nothing I have done yet, o' my conscience, Deserves a corner. Would all other women 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 ev'ry tongue, ev'ry eye saw 'em, 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.

WOLSEY. Tanta est erga te mentis integritas, regina serenis-sima- QUEEN KATHARINE. 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; 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, The willing'st sin I ever yet committed May be absolv'd in English.

WOLSEY. n.o.ble lady, I am sorry my integrity should breed, 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, 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, Like free and honest men, our just opinions And comforts to your cause.

CAMPEIUS. Most honour'd madam, My Lord of York, out of his n.o.ble nature, 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 a sign of peace, His service and his counsel.

QUEEN KATHARINE. [Aside] To betray me.- My lords, I thank you both for your good wins; Ye speak like honest men-pray G.o.d ye prove so!

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, In truth I know not. I was set at work Among my maids, full little, G.o.d knows, looking Either for such men or such business.

For her sake that I have been-for I feel 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!

WOLSEY. Madam, you wrong the King's love with these fears; Your hopes and friends are infinite.

QUEEN KATHARINE. In England But little for my profit; can you think, lords, That any Englishman dare give me counsel?

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, They that my trust must grow to, live not here; They are, as all my other comforts, far hence, In mine own country, lords.

CAMPEIUS. I would your Grace Would leave your griefs, and take my counsel.

QUEEN KATHARINE. How, sir?

CAMPEIUS. Put your main cause into the King's protection; He's loving and most gracious. 'Twill be much Both for your honour better and your cause; For if the trial of the law o'ertake ye You'll part away disgrac'd.

WOLSEY. He tells you rightly.

QUEEN KATHARINE. 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.

CAMPEIUS. Your rage mistakes us.

QUEEN KATHARINE. 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.

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: I have more charity; but say I warned ye.

Take heed, for heaven's sake take heed, lest at once The burden of my sorrows fall upon ye.

WOLSEY. Madam, this is a mere distraction; You turn the good we offer into envy.

QUEEN KATHARINE. Ye turn me into nothing. Woe upon ye, And all such false professors! Would you have me- If you have any justice, any pity, If ye be any thing but churchmen's habits- Put my sick cause into his hands that hates me?

Alas! has banish'd me his bed already, His love too long ago! I am old, my lords, 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.

CAMPEIUS. Your fears are worse.

QUEEN KATHARINE. Have I liv'd thus long-let me speak myself, Since virtue finds no friends-a wife, a true one?