Henry VIII

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. Katherine

Spirits of peace, where are ye? are ye all gone,
And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye?

Griffith Madam, we are here. Katherine

It is not you I call for:
Saw ye none enter since I slept?

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;
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.

Katherine

Bid the music leave,
They are harsh and heavy to me. Music ceases.

Patience

Do you note
How much her grace is alter’d on the sudden?
How long her face is drawn? how pale she looks,
And of an earthy cold? Mark her eyes!

Griffith She is going, wench: pray, pray. Patience Heaven comfort her! Enter a Messenger. Messenger An’t like your grace⁠— Katherine

You are a saucy fellow:
Deserve we no more reverence?

Griffith

You are to blame,
Knowing she will not lose her wonted greatness,
To use so rude behavior; go to, kneel.

Messenger

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: but this fellow
Let me ne’er see again. Exeunt Griffith and Messenger.

Re-enter Griffith, with Capucius.

If my sight fail not,
You should be lord ambassador from the emperor,
My royal nephew, and your name Capucius.

Capucius Madam, the same; your servant. Katherine

O, my lord,
The times and titles now are alter’d strangely
With me since first you knew me. But, I pray you,
What is your pleasure with me?

Capucius

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:
That gentle physic, given in time, had cured me;
But now I am past an comforts here, but prayers.
How does his highness?

Capucius Madam, in good health. Katherine

So may he ever do! and ever flourish,
When I shall dwell with worms, and my poor name
Banish’d the kingdom! Patience, is that letter,
I caused you write, yet sent away?

Patience No, madam. Giving it to Katherine. Katherine

Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliver
This to my lord the king.

Capucius 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!
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 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 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.

Capucius

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
Out of this world; tell him, in death I bless’d 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 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 Katherine.

Act V

Scene I

London. A gallery in the palace.

	Enter Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, a Page with a torch before him, met by Sir Thomas Lovell.
Gardiner	It’s one o’clock, boy, is’t not?
Boy	It hath struck.
Gardiner	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! Whither so late?
Lovell	Came you from the king, my lord
Gardiner	I did, Sir Thomas; and left him at primero With the Duke of Suffolk.
Lovell	I must to him too, Before he go to bed. I’ll take my leave.
Gardiner	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