Henry VIII

cherish those hearts that hate thee;
Corruption wins not more than honesty.
Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace,
To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not:
Let all the ends thou aim’st at be thy country’s,
Thy God’s, and truth’s; then if thou fall’st, O Cromwell,
Thou fall’st a blessed martyr! Serve the king;
And⁠—prithee, lead me in:
There take an inventory of all I have,
To the last penny; ’tis the king’s: my robe,
And my integrity to heaven, is all
I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell!
Had I but served my God with half the zeal
I served my king, he would not in mine age
Have left me naked to mine enemies. Cromwell Good sir, have patience. Wolsey

So I have. Farewell
The hopes of court! my hopes in heaven do dwell. Exeunt.

Act IV

Scene I

A street in Westminster.

	Enter two Gentlemen, meeting one another.
First Gentleman	You’re well met once again.
Second Gentleman	So are you.
First Gentleman	You come to take your stand here, and behold The Lady Anne pass from her coronation?
Second Gentleman	’Tis all my business. At our last encounter, The Duke of Buckingham came from his trial.
First Gentleman	’Tis very true: but that time offer’d sorrow; This, general joy.
Second Gentleman	’Tis well: the citizens, I am sure, have shown at full their royal minds⁠— As, let ’em have their rights, they are ever forward⁠— In celebration of this day with shows, Pageants and sights of honour.
First Gentleman	Never greater, Nor, I’ll assure you, better taken, sir.
Second Gentleman	May I be bold to ask at what that contains, That paper in your hand?
First Gentleman	Yes; ’tis the list Of those that claim their offices this day By custom of the coronation. The Duke of Suffolk is the first, and claims To be high-steward; next, the Duke of Norfolk, He to be earl marshal: you may read the rest.
Second Gentleman	I thank you, sir: had I not known those customs, I should have been beholding to your paper. But, I beseech you, what’s become of Katharine, The princess dowager? how goes her business?
First Gentleman	That I can tell you too. The Archbishop Of Canterbury, accompanied with other Learned and reverend fathers of his order, Held a late court at Dunstable, six miles off From Ampthill where the princess lay; to which She was often cited by them, but appear’d not: And, to be short, for not appearance and The king’s late scruple, by the main assent Of all these learned men she was divorced, And the late marriage made of none effect: Since which she was removed to Kimbolton, Where she remains now sick.
Second Gentleman	Alas, good lady! Trumpets. The trumpets sound: stand close, the queen is coming. Hautboys.
	The Order of the Coronation A lively flourish of Trumpets. Then, two Judges. Lord Chancellor, with the purse and mace before him. Choristers, singing. Music. Mayor of London, bearing the mace. Then Garter, in his coat of arms, and on his head a gilt copper crown. Marquess Dorset, bearing a sceptre of gold, on his head a demi-coronal of gold. With him, the Earl of Surrey, bearing the rod of silver with the dove, crowned with an earl’s coronet. Collars of SS. Duke of Suffolk, in his robe of estate, his coronet on his head, bearing a long white wand, as high-steward. With him, the Duke of Norfolk, with the rod of marshalship, a coronet on his head. Collars of SS. A canopy borne by four of the Cinque-ports; under it, the Queen in her robe; in her hair richly adorned with pearl, crowned. On each side her, the Bishops of London and Winchester. The old Duchess of Norfolk, in a coronal of gold, wrought with flowers, bearing the Queen’s train. Certain Ladies or Countesses, with plain circlets of gold without flowers. They pass over the stage in order and state.
Second Gentleman	A royal train, believe me. These I know: Who’s that that bears the sceptre?
First Gentleman	Marquess Dorset: And that the Earl of Surrey, with the rod.
Second Gentleman	A bold brave gentleman. That should be The Duke of Suffolk?
First Gentleman	’Tis the same: high-steward.
Second Gentleman	And that my Lord of Norfolk?
First Gentleman	Yes;
Second Gentleman	Heaven bless thee! Looking on the Queen. Thou hast the sweetest face I ever look’d on. Sir, as I have a soul, she is an angel; Our king has all the Indies in his arms, And more and richer, when he strains that lady: I cannot blame his conscience.
First Gentleman	They that bear The cloth of honour over her, are four barons Of the Cinque-ports.
Second Gentleman	Those men are happy; and so are all are near her. I take it, she that carries up the train Is that old noble lady, Duchess of Norfolk.
First Gentleman	It is; and all the rest are countesses.
Second Gentleman	Their coronets say so. These are stars indeed; And sometimes falling ones.
First Gentleman	No more of that. Exit procession, and then a great flourish of trumpets.
	Enter a Third Gentleman.
First Gentleman	God save you, sir! where have you been broiling?
Third Gentleman	Among the crowd i’ the Abbey; where a finger Could not be wedged in more: I am stifled With the mere rankness of their joy.
Second Gentleman	You saw The ceremony?
Third Gentleman	That I did.
First Gentleman	How was it?
Third Gentleman	Well worth the seeing.
Second Gentleman	Good sir, speak it to us.
Third Gentleman	As well as I am able. The rich stream Of lords and ladies, having brought the queen To a prepared place in the choir, fell off A distance from her; while her grace sat down To rest awhile, some half an hour or so, In a rich chair of state, opposing freely The beauty of her person to the people. Believe me, sir, she is the goodliest woman That ever lay by man: which when the people Had the full view of, such a noise arose As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest, As loud, and to as many tunes: hats, cloaks⁠— Doublets, I think⁠—flew up; and had their faces Been loose, this day they had been lost. Such joy I never saw before. Great-bellied