« PreviousContinue »
Yes, surely. Cam. Believe me, there's an ill opinion spread
then Even of yourself, lord cardinal. Wol.
How! of me? Cam. They will not stick to say, you envy'd him; And, fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous, Kept him a foreign man still: which so griev'd him, That he ran mad, and died. Wol.
Heaven's peace be with him! That's christian care enough: for living murmurers, There's places of rebuke. He was a fool; For he would needs be virtuous: That good fellow, If I command him, follows my appointment; I will have none so near else. Learn this, brother, We live not to be grip'd by meaner persons. K. Hen. Deliver this with modesty to the queen
[Exit Gardiner. The most convenient place that I can think of, For such receipt of learning, is Black-Friars; There ye shall meet about this weighty business:My Wolsey, see it furnish’d.–O my lord, Would it not grieve an able man, to leave So sweet a bedfellow? But, conscience, conscience, 0, 'tis a tender place, and I must leave her.
AN ANTECHAMBER IN THE QUEEN'S APARTMENTS.
Enter Anne Bullen, and an old Lady. Anne. Not for that neither;—Here's the pang
that pinches: His highness having liv'd so long with her; and
she So good a lady, that no tongue could ever Pronounce dishonour of her,—by my life, She never knew harm-doing ;-0 now, after So many courses of the sun enthron’d, Still growing in a majesty and pomp,—the which To leave is a thousand-fold more bitter, than 'Tis sweet at first to acquire,-after this process, To give her the avaunt! it is a pity Would move a monster. Old L.
Hearts of most hard temper Melt and lament for her. Anne.
O, God's will! much better, She ne'er had known pomp: though it be tem
Alas, poor lady!
So much the more
And range with humble livers in content,
By my troth, and maidenhead,
Beshrew me, I would, And venture maidenhead for't; and so would you, For all this spice of your hypocrisy: You, that have so fair parts of woman on you, Have too a woman's heart; which ever yet Affected eminence, wealth, sovereignty; Which, to say sooth, are blessings: and which gifts (Saving your mincing) the capacity Of your soft cheveril conscience would receive, If you might please to stretch it. Anne.
Nay, good troth,Old L. Yes, troth, and troth, —You would not
be a queen Anne. No, not for all the riches under heaven. Old L. 'Tis strange; a three-pence bow'd would
No, in truth.
little; I would not be a young count in your way, For more than blushing comes to: if your back Cannot vouchsafe this burden, 'tis too weak
How you do talk !
In faith, for little England
Enter the Lord Chamberlain. Cham. Good morrow, ladies. What were't worth
to know The secret of your conference? Anne.
My good lord, Not your demand; it values not your asking: Our mistress' sorrows we were pitying.
Cham. It was a gentle business, and becoming
Anne. Now I pray God, amen!
I do not know,
What kind of my obedience I should tender;
Are all I can return. 'Beseech your lordship,
[Aside. Beauty and honour in her are so mingled, That they have caught the king: and who knows
My honour'd lord.
[Exit Lord Chamberlain. Old L. Why, this it is; see, see! I have been begging sixteen years in court, (Am yet a courtier beggarly,) nor could Come pat betwixt too early and too late, For any suit of pounds: and you, (O fate!) A very fresh-fish here, (fye, fye upon This compellid fortune!) have your mouth fill'd up, Before you open it. Anne.
This is strange to me. Old L. How tastes iti is it bitter? forty pence,