Previous Next
 

Continue reading with a SparkNotes PLUS trial

Original Text

Modern Text
Enter KATHERINE DOWAGER, sick, led between GRIFFITH, her gentleman usher, and PATIENCE, her woman.
Enter KATHERINE DOWAGER, sick, led between GRIFFITH, her gentleman usher, and PATIENCE, her woman.
GRIFFITH
How does your Grace?
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.
She sits.
5
So. Now, methinks, I feel a little ease.
Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou ledst me,
That the great child of honor, Cardinal Wolsey,
Was dead?
KATHERINE
O Griffith, sick to death.
My legs like loaden branches bow to th’ earth,
Willing to leave their burden. Reach a chair.
She sits.
So. Now, methinks, I feel a little ease.
Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou ledst me,
That the great child of honor, Cardinal Wolsey,
Was dead?
GRIFFITH
Yes, madam, but I think your Grace,
10
Out of the pain you suffered, gave no ear to ’t.
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.
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;
15
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.
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
20
Alas, poor man!
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 honorably received him;
To whom he gave these words: “O Father Abbot,
25
An old man, broken with the storms of state,
Is come to lay his weary bones among you.
Give him a little earth, for charity.”
So went to bed, where eagerly his sickness
Pursued him still; and three nights after this,
30
About the hour of eight, which he himself
Foretold should be his last, full of repentance,
Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows,
He gave his honors to the world again,
His blessèd part to heaven, and slept in peace.
GRIFFITH
At last, with easy roads, he came to Leicester,
Lodged in the abbey, where the reverend abbot
With all his convent honorably 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 you.
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 honors to the world again,
His blessèd part to heaven, and slept in peace.
KATHERINE
35
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
40
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.
45
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.
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,
50
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?
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.
KATHERINE
Yes, good Griffith;
I were malicious else.
GRIFFITH
55
This cardinal,
Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly
Was fashioned to much honor. From his cradle
He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one:
Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and persuading;
60
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
65
Those twins of learning that he raised in you,
Ipswich and Oxford, one of which fell with him,
Unwilling to outlive the good that did it;
The other, though unfinished, yet so famous,
So excellent in art, and still so rising,
70
That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.
His overthrow heaped happiness upon him,
For then, and not till then, he felt himself,
And found the blessedness of being little.
And, to add greater honors to his age
75
Than man could give him, he died fearing God.
GRIFFITH
This cardinal,
Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly
Was fashioned to much honor. 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
Those twins of learning that he raised in you,
Ipswich and Oxford, one of which fell with him,
Unwilling to outlive the good that did it;
The other, though unfinished, yet so famous,
So excellent in art, and still so rising,
That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.
His overthrow heaped happiness upon him,
For then, and not till then, he felt himself,
And found the blessedness of being little.
And, to add greater honors to his age
Than man could give him, he died fearing God.
KATHERINE
After my death I wish no other herald,
No other speaker of my living actions,
To keep mine honor from corruption
But such an honest chronicler as Griffith.
80
Whom I most hated living, thou hast made me,
With thy religious truth and modesty,
Now in his ashes honor. Peace be with him!—
Patience, be near me still, and set me lower.
I have not long to trouble thee.—Good Griffith,
85
Cause the musicians play me that sad note     
I named my knell, whilst I sit meditating
On that celestial harmony I go to.
KATHERINE
After my death I wish no other herald,
No other speaker of my living actions,
To keep mine honor from corruption
But such an honest chronicler as Griffith.
Whom I most hated living, thou hast made me,
With thy religious truth and modesty,
Now in his ashes honor. Peace be with him!—
Patience, be near me still, and set me lower.
I have not long to trouble thee.—Good Griffith,
Cause the musicians play me that sad note     
I named my knell, whilst I sit meditating
On that celestial harmony I go to.
Sad and solemn music.
Sad and solemn music.
GRIFFITH
She is asleep. Good wench, let’s sit down quiet,
For fear we wake her. Softly, gentle Patience.
GRIFFITH
She is asleep. Good wench, let’s sit down quiet,
For fear we wake her. Softly, gentle Patience.
They sit.
They sit.
The Vision.
The Vision.
Enter, solemnly tripping one after another, six PERSONAGES clad in white robes, wearing on their heads garlands of bays, and golden vizards on their faces, branches of bays or palm in their hands. They first congee unto her, then dance; and, at certain changes, the first two hold a spare garland over her head, at which the other four make reverent curtsies. Then the two that held the garland deliver the same to the other next two, who observe the same order in their changes and holding the garland over her head; which done, they deliver the same garland to the last two, who likewise observe the same order. At which, as it were by inspiration, she makes in her sleep signs of rejoicing and holdeth up her hands to heaven; and so, in their dancing, vanish, carrying the garland with them.
Enter, solemnly tripping one after another, six PERSONAGES clad in white robes, wearing on their heads garlands of bays, and golden vizards on their faces, branches of bays or palm in their hands. They first congee unto her, then dance; and, at certain changes, the first two hold a spare garland over her head, at which the other four make reverent curtsies. Then the two that held the garland deliver the same to the other next two, who observe the same order in their changes and holding the garland over her head; which done, they deliver the same garland to the last two, who likewise observe the same order. At which, as it were by inspiration, she makes in her sleep signs of rejoicing and holdeth up her hands to heaven; and so, in their dancing, vanish, carrying the garland with them.
The music continues.
The music continues.
KATHERINE, waking
90
Spirits of peace, where are you? Are you all gone,
And leave me here in wretchedness behind you?
KATHERINE, waking
Spirits of peace, where are you? Are you all gone,
And leave me here in wretchedness behind you?
GRIFFITH
Madam, we are here.
GRIFFITH
Madam, we are here.
KATHERINE
It is not you I call for.
Saw you none enter since I slept?
KATHERINE
It is not you I call for.
Saw you none enter since I slept?
GRIFFITH
95
None, madam.
GRIFFITH
None, madam.
KATHERINE
No? Saw you not, even now, a blessed troop
Invite me to a banquet, whose bright faces
Cast thousand beams upon me, like the sun?
They promised me eternal happiness
100
And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel
I am not worthy yet to wear. I shall, assuredly.
KATHERINE
No? Saw you not, even now, a blessed troop
Invite me to a banquet, whose bright faces
Cast thousand beams upon me, like the sun?
They promised me eternal happiness
And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel
I am not worthy yet to wear. I shall, assuredly.
GRIFFITH
I am most joyful, madam, such good dreams
Possess your fancy.
GRIFFITH
I am most joyful, madam, such good dreams
Possess your fancy.
KATHERINE
Bid the music leave.
105
They are harsh and heavy to me.
KATHERINE
Bid the music leave.
They are harsh and heavy to me.
Music ceases.
Music ceases.
PATIENCE, aside to GRIFFITH
Do you note
How much her Grace is altered on the sudden?
How long her face is drawn? How pale she looks,
And of an earthy cold? Mark her eyes.
PATIENCE, aside to GRIFFITH
Do you note
How much her Grace is altered on the sudden?
How long her face is drawn? How pale she looks,
And of an earthy cold? Mark her eyes.
GRIFFITH, aside to PATIENCE
110
She is going, wench. Pray, pray.
GRIFFITH, aside to PATIENCE
She is going, wench. Pray, pray.
PATIENCE
Heaven comfort her!
PATIENCE
Heaven comfort her!
Enter a MESSENGER.
Enter a MESSENGER.
MESSENGER, to KATHERINE
An ’t like your Grace—
MESSENGER, to KATHERINE
An ’t like your Grace—
KATHERINE
You are a saucy fellow.
Deserve we no more reverence?
KATHERINE
You are a saucy fellow.
Deserve we no more reverence?
GRIFFITH, to MESSENGER
115
You are to blame,
Knowing she will not lose her wonted greatness,
To use so rude behavior. Go to. Kneel.
GRIFFITH, to MESSENGER
You are to blame,
Knowing she will not lose her wonted greatness,
To use so rude behavior. Go to. Kneel.
MESSENGER , kneeling
I humbly do entreat your Highness’ pardon.
My haste made me unmannerly. There is staying
120
A gentleman sent from the King to see you.
MESSENGER , kneeling
I humbly do entreat your Highness’ pardon.
My haste made me unmannerly. There is staying
A gentleman sent from the King to see you.
KATHERINE
Admit him entrance, Griffith.
MESSENGER rises.
But this fellow
Let me ne’er see again.
MESSENGER exits.
Enter LORD CAPUCHIUS.
If my sight fail not,
125
You should be Lord Ambassador from the Emperor,
My royal nephew, and your name Capuchius.
KATHERINE
Admit him entrance, Griffith.
MESSENGER rises.
But this fellow
Let me ne’er see again.
MESSENGER exits.
Enter LORD CAPUCHIUS.
If my sight fail not,
You should be Lord Ambassador from the Emperor,
My royal nephew, and your name Capuchius.
CAPUCHIUS
Madam, the same. Your servant.
CAPUCHIUS
Madam, the same. Your servant.
KATHERINE
O my lord,
The times and titles now are altered strangely
130
With me since first you knew me. But I pray you,
What is your pleasure with me?
KATHERINE
O my lord,
The times and titles now are altered strangely
With me since first you knew me. But I pray you,
What is your pleasure with me?
CAPUCHIUS
Noble lady,
First, mine own service to your Grace; the next,
The King’s request that I would visit you,
135
Who grieves much for your weakness, and by me
Sends you his princely commendations,
And heartily entreats you take good comfort.
CAPUCHIUS
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.
KATHERINE
O, my good lord, that comfort comes too late;
’Tis like a pardon after execution.
140
That gentle physic given in time had cured me.
But now I am past all comforts here but prayers.
How does his Highness?
KATHERINE
O, my good lord, that comfort comes too late;
’Tis like a pardon after execution.
That gentle physic given in time had cured me.
But now I am past all comforts here but prayers.
How does his Highness?
CAPUCHIUS
Madam, in good health.
CAPUCHIUS
Madam, in good health.
KATHERINE
So may he ever do, and ever flourish,
145
When I shall dwell with worms, and my poor name
Banished the kingdom.—Patience, is that letter
I caused you write yet sent away?
KATHERINE
So may he ever do, and ever flourish,
When I shall dwell with worms, and my poor name
Banished the kingdom.—Patience, is that letter
I caused you write yet sent away?
PATIENCE
No, madam.
PATIENCE
No, madam.
She presents a paper to KATHERINE, who gives it to CAPUCHIUS.
She presents a paper to KATHERINE, who gives it to CAPUCHIUS.
KATHERINE
Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliver
150
This to my lord the King—
KATHERINE
Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliver
This to my lord the King—
CAPUCHIUS
Most willing, madam.
CAPUCHIUS
Most willing, madam.
KATHERINE
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!—
155
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 loved him,
Heaven knows how dearly. My next poor petition
160
Is that his noble Grace would have some pity
Upon my wretched women, that so long
Have followed both my fortunes faithfully,
Of which there is not one, I dare avow—
And now I should not lie—but will deserve,
165
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,
170
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 pleased to have given me longer life
And able means, we had not parted thus.
175
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.
KATHERINE
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 loved 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 followed 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 pleased 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.
CAPUCHIUS
180
By heaven, I will,
Or let me lose the fashion of a man!
CAPUCHIUS
By heaven, I will,
Or let me lose the fashion of a man!
KATHERINE
I thank you, honest lord. Remember me
In all humility unto his Highness.
Say his long trouble now is passing
185
Out of this world. Tell him in death I blessed 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,
190
Let me be used with honor. 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 unqueened, yet like
A queen and daughter to a king inter me.
195
I can no more.
KATHERINE
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 blessed 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 used with honor. 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 unqueened, yet like
A queen and daughter to a king inter me.
I can no more.
They exit, leading KATHERINE.
They exit, leading KATHERINE.

Original Text

Modern Text
Enter KATHERINE DOWAGER, sick, led between GRIFFITH, her gentleman usher, and PATIENCE, her woman.
Enter KATHERINE DOWAGER, sick, led between GRIFFITH, her gentleman usher, and PATIENCE, her woman.
GRIFFITH
How does your Grace?
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.
She sits.
5
So. Now, methinks, I feel a little ease.
Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou ledst me,
That the great child of honor, Cardinal Wolsey,
Was dead?
KATHERINE
O Griffith, sick to death.
My legs like loaden branches bow to th’ earth,
Willing to leave their burden. Reach a chair.
She sits.
So. Now, methinks, I feel a little ease.
Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou ledst me,
That the great child of honor, Cardinal Wolsey,
Was dead?
GRIFFITH
Yes, madam, but I think your Grace,
10
Out of the pain you suffered, gave no ear to ’t.
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.
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;
15
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.
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
20
Alas, poor man!
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 honorably received him;
To whom he gave these words: “O Father Abbot,
25
An old man, broken with the storms of state,
Is come to lay his weary bones among you.
Give him a little earth, for charity.”
So went to bed, where eagerly his sickness
Pursued him still; and three nights after this,
30
About the hour of eight, which he himself
Foretold should be his last, full of repentance,
Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows,
He gave his honors to the world again,
His blessèd part to heaven, and slept in peace.
GRIFFITH
At last, with easy roads, he came to Leicester,
Lodged in the abbey, where the reverend abbot
With all his convent honorably 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 you.
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 honors to the world again,
His blessèd part to heaven, and slept in peace.
KATHERINE
35
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
40
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.
45
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.
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,
50
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?
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.
KATHERINE
Yes, good Griffith;
I were malicious else.
GRIFFITH
55
This cardinal,
Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly
Was fashioned to much honor. From his cradle
He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one:
Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and persuading;
60
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
65
Those twins of learning that he raised in you,
Ipswich and Oxford, one of which fell with him,
Unwilling to outlive the good that did it;
The other, though unfinished, yet so famous,
So excellent in art, and still so rising,
70
That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.
His overthrow heaped happiness upon him,
For then, and not till then, he felt himself,
And found the blessedness of being little.
And, to add greater honors to his age
75
Than man could give him, he died fearing God.
GRIFFITH
This cardinal,
Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly
Was fashioned to much honor. 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
Those twins of learning that he raised in you,
Ipswich and Oxford, one of which fell with him,
Unwilling to outlive the good that did it;
The other, though unfinished, yet so famous,
So excellent in art, and still so rising,
That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.
His overthrow heaped happiness upon him,
For then, and not till then, he felt himself,
And found the blessedness of being little.
And, to add greater honors to his age
Than man could give him, he died fearing God.
KATHERINE
After my death I wish no other herald,
No other speaker of my living actions,
To keep mine honor from corruption
But such an honest chronicler as Griffith.
80
Whom I most hated living, thou hast made me,
With thy religious truth and modesty,
Now in his ashes honor. Peace be with him!—
Patience, be near me still, and set me lower.
I have not long to trouble thee.—Good Griffith,
85
Cause the musicians play me that sad note     
I named my knell, whilst I sit meditating
On that celestial harmony I go to.
KATHERINE
After my death I wish no other herald,
No other speaker of my living actions,
To keep mine honor from corruption
But such an honest chronicler as Griffith.
Whom I most hated living, thou hast made me,
With thy religious truth and modesty,
Now in his ashes honor. Peace be with him!—
Patience, be near me still, and set me lower.
I have not long to trouble thee.—Good Griffith,
Cause the musicians play me that sad note     
I named my knell, whilst I sit meditating
On that celestial harmony I go to.
Sad and solemn music.
Sad and solemn music.
GRIFFITH
She is asleep. Good wench, let’s sit down quiet,
For fear we wake her. Softly, gentle Patience.
GRIFFITH
She is asleep. Good wench, let’s sit down quiet,
For fear we wake her. Softly, gentle Patience.
They sit.
They sit.
The Vision.
The Vision.
Enter, solemnly tripping one after another, six PERSONAGES clad in white robes, wearing on their heads garlands of bays, and golden vizards on their faces, branches of bays or palm in their hands. They first congee unto her, then dance; and, at certain changes, the first two hold a spare garland over her head, at which the other four make reverent curtsies. Then the two that held the garland deliver the same to the other next two, who observe the same order in their changes and holding the garland over her head; which done, they deliver the same garland to the last two, who likewise observe the same order. At which, as it were by inspiration, she makes in her sleep signs of rejoicing and holdeth up her hands to heaven; and so, in their dancing, vanish, carrying the garland with them.
Enter, solemnly tripping one after another, six PERSONAGES clad in white robes, wearing on their heads garlands of bays, and golden vizards on their faces, branches of bays or palm in their hands. They first congee unto her, then dance; and, at certain changes, the first two hold a spare garland over her head, at which the other four make reverent curtsies. Then the two that held the garland deliver the same to the other next two, who observe the same order in their changes and holding the garland over her head; which done, they deliver the same garland to the last two, who likewise observe the same order. At which, as it were by inspiration, she makes in her sleep signs of rejoicing and holdeth up her hands to heaven; and so, in their dancing, vanish, carrying the garland with them.
The music continues.
The music continues.
KATHERINE, waking
90
Spirits of peace, where are you? Are you all gone,
And leave me here in wretchedness behind you?
KATHERINE, waking
Spirits of peace, where are you? Are you all gone,
And leave me here in wretchedness behind you?
GRIFFITH
Madam, we are here.
GRIFFITH
Madam, we are here.
KATHERINE
It is not you I call for.
Saw you none enter since I slept?
KATHERINE
It is not you I call for.
Saw you none enter since I slept?
GRIFFITH
95
None, madam.
GRIFFITH
None, madam.
KATHERINE
No? Saw you not, even now, a blessed troop
Invite me to a banquet, whose bright faces
Cast thousand beams upon me, like the sun?
They promised me eternal happiness
100
And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel
I am not worthy yet to wear. I shall, assuredly.
KATHERINE
No? Saw you not, even now, a blessed troop
Invite me to a banquet, whose bright faces
Cast thousand beams upon me, like the sun?
They promised me eternal happiness
And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel
I am not worthy yet to wear. I shall, assuredly.
GRIFFITH
I am most joyful, madam, such good dreams
Possess your fancy.
GRIFFITH
I am most joyful, madam, such good dreams
Possess your fancy.
KATHERINE
Bid the music leave.
105
They are harsh and heavy to me.
KATHERINE
Bid the music leave.
They are harsh and heavy to me.
Music ceases.
Music ceases.
PATIENCE, aside to GRIFFITH
Do you note
How much her Grace is altered on the sudden?
How long her face is drawn? How pale she looks,
And of an earthy cold? Mark her eyes.
PATIENCE, aside to GRIFFITH
Do you note
How much her Grace is altered on the sudden?
How long her face is drawn? How pale she looks,
And of an earthy cold? Mark her eyes.
GRIFFITH, aside to PATIENCE
110
She is going, wench. Pray, pray.
GRIFFITH, aside to PATIENCE
She is going, wench. Pray, pray.
PATIENCE
Heaven comfort her!
PATIENCE
Heaven comfort her!
Enter a MESSENGER.
Enter a MESSENGER.
MESSENGER, to KATHERINE
An ’t like your Grace—
MESSENGER, to KATHERINE
An ’t like your Grace—
KATHERINE
You are a saucy fellow.
Deserve we no more reverence?
KATHERINE
You are a saucy fellow.
Deserve we no more reverence?
GRIFFITH, to MESSENGER
115
You are to blame,
Knowing she will not lose her wonted greatness,
To use so rude behavior. Go to. Kneel.
GRIFFITH, to MESSENGER
You are to blame,
Knowing she will not lose her wonted greatness,
To use so rude behavior. Go to. Kneel.
MESSENGER , kneeling
I humbly do entreat your Highness’ pardon.
My haste made me unmannerly. There is staying
120
A gentleman sent from the King to see you.
MESSENGER , kneeling
I humbly do entreat your Highness’ pardon.
My haste made me unmannerly. There is staying
A gentleman sent from the King to see you.
KATHERINE
Admit him entrance, Griffith.
MESSENGER rises.
But this fellow
Let me ne’er see again.
MESSENGER exits.
Enter LORD CAPUCHIUS.
If my sight fail not,
125
You should be Lord Ambassador from the Emperor,
My royal nephew, and your name Capuchius.
KATHERINE
Admit him entrance, Griffith.
MESSENGER rises.
But this fellow
Let me ne’er see again.
MESSENGER exits.
Enter LORD CAPUCHIUS.
If my sight fail not,
You should be Lord Ambassador from the Emperor,
My royal nephew, and your name Capuchius.
CAPUCHIUS
Madam, the same. Your servant.
CAPUCHIUS
Madam, the same. Your servant.
KATHERINE
O my lord,
The times and titles now are altered strangely
130
With me since first you knew me. But I pray you,
What is your pleasure with me?
KATHERINE
O my lord,
The times and titles now are altered strangely
With me since first you knew me. But I pray you,
What is your pleasure with me?
CAPUCHIUS
Noble lady,
First, mine own service to your Grace; the next,
The King’s request that I would visit you,
135
Who grieves much for your weakness, and by me
Sends you his princely commendations,
And heartily entreats you take good comfort.
CAPUCHIUS
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.
KATHERINE
O, my good lord, that comfort comes too late;
’Tis like a pardon after execution.
140
That gentle physic given in time had cured me.
But now I am past all comforts here but prayers.
How does his Highness?
KATHERINE
O, my good lord, that comfort comes too late;
’Tis like a pardon after execution.
That gentle physic given in time had cured me.
But now I am past all comforts here but prayers.
How does his Highness?
CAPUCHIUS
Madam, in good health.
CAPUCHIUS
Madam, in good health.
KATHERINE
So may he ever do, and ever flourish,
145
When I shall dwell with worms, and my poor name
Banished the kingdom.—Patience, is that letter
I caused you write yet sent away?
KATHERINE
So may he ever do, and ever flourish,
When I shall dwell with worms, and my poor name
Banished the kingdom.—Patience, is that letter
I caused you write yet sent away?
PATIENCE
No, madam.
PATIENCE
No, madam.
She presents a paper to KATHERINE, who gives it to CAPUCHIUS.
She presents a paper to KATHERINE, who gives it to CAPUCHIUS.
KATHERINE
Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliver
150
This to my lord the King—
KATHERINE
Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliver
This to my lord the King—
CAPUCHIUS
Most willing, madam.
CAPUCHIUS
Most willing, madam.
KATHERINE
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!—
155
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 loved him,
Heaven knows how dearly. My next poor petition
160
Is that his noble Grace would have some pity
Upon my wretched women, that so long
Have followed both my fortunes faithfully,
Of which there is not one, I dare avow—
And now I should not lie—but will deserve,
165
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,
170
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 pleased to have given me longer life
And able means, we had not parted thus.
175
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.
KATHERINE
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 loved 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 followed 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 pleased 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.
CAPUCHIUS
180
By heaven, I will,
Or let me lose the fashion of a man!
CAPUCHIUS
By heaven, I will,
Or let me lose the fashion of a man!
KATHERINE
I thank you, honest lord. Remember me
In all humility unto his Highness.
Say his long trouble now is passing
185
Out of this world. Tell him in death I blessed 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,
190
Let me be used with honor. 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 unqueened, yet like
A queen and daughter to a king inter me.
195
I can no more.
KATHERINE
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 blessed 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 used with honor. 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 unqueened, yet like
A queen and daughter to a king inter me.
I can no more.
They exit, leading KATHERINE.
They exit, leading KATHERINE.
Previous page Act 4, Scene 1 Next page Act 5, Scene 1

Popular pages: Henry VIII

Take a Study Break