Come, gentlemen, ye shall go my way, which
Is to the court, and there ye shall be my guests;
Something I can command. As I walk thither,
I'll tell ye more.

Both.

You may command us, sir.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.*

Kimbolton.

Enter KATHARINE, Dowager, sick; led between

GRIFFITH and PATIENCE.

Grif. How does your grace?

Kath. My legs, like loaden branches, bow to the earth, Willing to leave their burden: Reach a chair ;So, now, methinks, I feel a little ease.

O, Griffith, sick to death:

Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou led'st me, That the great child of honour, cardinal Wolsey, Was dead?

Grif. Yes, madam; but, I think, your grace, Out of the pain you suffer'd, gave no ear to't.

Kath. Pr'ythee, good Griffith, tell me how he died: If well, he stepp'd before me, happily,"

For my example.

*This scene is above any other part of Shakspeare's tragedies, and perhaps above any scene of any other poet, tender and pathetick, without gods, or furies, or poisons, or precipices, without the help of romantick circumstances, without improbable sallies of poetical lamentation, and without any throes of tumultuous misery.JOHNSON.

6 Haply.

Grif.

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.

Kath.

Alas! poor man !

Grif. At last, with easy roads," he came to Leices

Lodg'd in the abbey; where the reverend abbot,
With all his convent, honourably receiv'd 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 ye;
Give him a little earth for charity!

So went to bed: where eagerly his sickness
Pursu'd 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 honours to the world again,
His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace.

Kath. 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

8

Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking
Himself with princes; one, that by suggestion
Ty'd all the kingdom: simony was fair play;
His own opinion was his law: I'the presence
He would say untruths; and be ever double,

7 By short stages.

VOL. VII.

Pride.
R

• Of the king.

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.

Grif

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?

Kath.

I were malicious else.

Grif.

Yes, good Griffith;

This cardinal,

Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly
Was fashion'd to much honour.

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 lov'd 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 rais'd in you,
Ipswich, and Oxford! one of which fell with him,
Unwilling to outlive the good that did it ;
The other, though unfinish'd, yet so famous,
So excellent in art, and still so rising,
That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.
His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him;
For then, and not till then, he felt himself,
And found the blessedness of being little :
2 Ipswich.

■ Formed for.

And, to add greater honours to his age

Than man could give him, he died, fearing God.
Kath. After my death I wish no other herald,
No other speaker of my living actions,
To keep mine honour 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 honour: 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 nam'd my knell, whilst I sit meditating
On that celestial harmony I go to.

Sad and solemn musick.

:

Grif. She is asleep: Good wench, let's sit down quiet,

For fear we wake her ;-Softly, gentle Patience.

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 reverend court'sies; 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 they vanish, carrying the gar land with them. The musick continues.

Kath. Spirits of peace, where are ye? Are ye all gone?

And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye?

Grif. Madam, we are here,

Kath.

Saw ye

Grif.

It is not you I call for :

None, madam,

none enter, since I slept?

Kath. 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 promis'd me eternal happiness;

And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel
I am not worthy yet to wear: I shall,

Assuredly.

Grif. I am most joyful, madam, such good dreams Possess your fancy.

Kath.

Bid the musick leave,

They are harsh and heavy to me.

Pat.

[Musick ceases.

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 you her eyes?

Grif. She is going, wench; pray, pray.

Pat.

Heaven comfort her!