When by the Archbishop of Canterbury She had all the royal makings of a queen;As holy oil, Edward Confessor's crown, The rod, and bird of peace, and all such emblems Laid nobly on her: which perform'd, the choir, With all the choicest music of the kingdom, Together sung 'Te Deum.' So she parted, And with the same full state paced back again To York-place, where the feast is held. First Gentleman Sir, You must no more call it York-place, that's past;For, since the cardinal fell, that title's lost:
'Tis now the king's, and call'd Whitehall. Third Gentleman I know it;But 'tis so lately alter'd, that the old name Is fresh about me. Second Gentleman What two reverend bishops Were those that went on each side of the queen? Third Gentleman Stokesly and Gardiner; the one of Winchester, Newly preferr'd from the king's secretary, The other, London. Second Gentleman He of Winchester Is held no great good lover of the archbishop's, The virtuous Cranmer. Third Gentleman All the land knows that:
However, yet there is no great breach; when it comes, Cranmer will find a friend will not shrink from him. Second Gentleman Who may that be, I pray you? Third Gentleman Thomas Cromwell;A man in much esteem with the king, and truly A worthy friend. The king has made him master O' the jewel house, And one, already, of the privy council. Second Gentleman He will deserve more. Third Gentleman Yes, without all doubt.
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, her gentleman usher, and PATIENCE, her woman GRIFFITH How does your grace? KATHARINE O Griffith, sick to death!
My legs, like loaden branches, bow to the earth, Willing to leave their burthen. Reach a chair:
So; now, methinks, I feel a little ease.
Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou led'st me, That the great child of honour, Cardinal Wolsey, Was dead? GRIFFITH Yes, madam; but I think your grace, Out of the pain you suffer'd, gave no ear to't. KATHARINE Prithee, good Griffith, tell me how he died:
If well, he stepp'd before me, happily For my example. 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. KATHARINE Alas, poor man! GRIFFITH At last, with easy roads, he came to Leicester, Lodged in the abbey; where the reverend abbot, With all his covent, honourably 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 ye;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 honours to the world again, His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace. KATHARINE 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' the 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 in example. 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? KATHARINE Yes, good Griffith;I were malicious else. 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 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 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:
And, to add greater honours to his age Than man could give him, he died fearing God. KATHARINE 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:
