SECOND GENTLEMAN

But what followed?

THIRD GENTLEMAN

At length her grace rose, and with modest paces

Came to the altar, where she kneeled, and saint-like

Cast her fair eyes to heaven, and prayed devoutly, 86

Then rose again, and bowed 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 performed, the choir,

With all the choicest music of the kingdom,

Together sung Te Deum. So she parted,

And with the same full state paced 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 altered 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

Stokesley and Gardiner, the one of Winchester—

Newly preferred 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.

FIRST and SECOND GENTLEMEN You may command us, sir.

Exeunt

4.2 ⌈Three chairs.⌉ Enter Katherine Dowager, sick, led between Griffith her gentleman usher, and Patience her woman

GRIFFITH

How does your grace?

KATHERINE

O Griffith, sick to death.

My legs, like loaden branches, bow to th’ earth,

Willing to leave their burden. Reach a chair.

A chair is brought to her. She sits

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 suffered, gave no ear to’t.

KATHERINE

Prithee, good Griffith, tell me how he died.

If well, he stepped 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.

KATHERINE

Alas, poor man.

GRIFFITH

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

Lodged in the abbey, where the reverend abbot,

With all his convent, honourably received 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

Pursued 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.

KATHERINE

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.

GRIFFITH

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?

KATHERINE

Yes, good Griffith,

I were malicious else.

GRIFFITH

This cardinal, Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly

Was fashioned to much honour. 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 loved 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