« PreviousContinue »
That gentle physick, given in time, had cur'd me;
Madam, in good health.
[Giving it to Katharine. Kath. Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliver This to my lord the king. Cap.
Most willing, madam. · Kaih. In which I have commended to his good
ness The model of our chaste loves, his young daugh
ter: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 bonesty, and decent carriage, A right good husband, let him be a noble; And, sure, those men are happy that shall have them.
The last is, for my men; they are the poorest,
By heaven, I will;
Kath. 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.-Farewel, My lord.—Griffith, farewel.-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.
Enter Gardiner Bishop of Winchester, a Page with
a torch before him, met by Sir Thomas Lovell. Gar. It's one o'clock, boy, is't not? Boy.
It hath struck. Gar. 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! Whithe, so late?
Lov. Came you from the king, my lord? Gar. I did, sir Thomas; and left him at primero With the duke of Suffolk. Loo.
I must to him too, Before he go to bed. I'll take my leave. Gar. Not yet, sir Thomas Lovell. What's the
matter? It seems, you are in haste: an if there be No great offence belongs to’t, give your friend Some touch of your late business: Affairs, that
walk (As, they say, spirits do,) at midnight, have In them a wilder nature, than the business That seeks despatch by day. Lov.
My lord, I love you; And durst commend a secret to your ear
Much weightier than this work. The queen’s in
The fruit she goes with,
Methinks, I could
But, sir, sir,-
Now, sir, you speak of two The most remark'd i'the kingdom. As for Crom
well, Beside that of the jewel-house, he's made master O'the rolls, and the king's secretary; further, sir, Stands in the gap and trade of more preferments, With which the time will load him: The arch
bishop Is the king's hand, and tongue; And who dare
speak One syllable against him? Gar.
Yes, yes, sir Thomas, There are that dare; and I myself have ventur'd.
To speak my mind of him: and, indeed, this day,
servant. [Exeunt Gardiner and Page.
As Lovell is going out, enter the King, and the
Duke of Suffolk. K. Hen. Charles, I will play no more to-night; My mind's not on't, you are too hard for me.
Suf. Sir, I did never win of you before.
K. Hen. But little, Charles;
Lov. I could not personally deliver to her
What say’st thou: ha ! To pray for her? what, is she crying out?