Shakespeare's First Folio Part 449
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3 Among the crowd i'th' Abbey, where a finger Could not be wedg'd in more: I am stifled With the meere ranknesse of their ioy
2 You saw the Ceremony?
3 That I did
1 How was it?
3 Well worth the seeing
2 Good Sir, speake it to vs?
3 As well as I am able. The rich streame Of Lords, and Ladies, hauing brought the Queene To a prepar'd place in the Quire, fell off A distance from her; while her Grace sate downe To rest a while, some halfe an houre, or so, In a rich Chaire of State, opposing freely The Beauty of her Person to the People.
Beleeue me Sir, she is the goodliest Woman That euer lay by man: which when the people Had the full view of, such a noyse arose, As the shrowdes make at Sea, in a stiffe Tempest, As lowd, and to as many Tunes. Hats, Cloakes, (Doublets, I thinke) flew vp, and had their Faces Bin loose, this day they had beene lost. Such ioy I neuer saw before. Great belly'd women, That had not halfe a weeke to go, like Rammes In the old time of Warre, would shake the prease And make 'em reele before 'em. No man liuing Could say this is my wife there, all were wouen So strangely in one peece
2 But what follow'd?
3 At length, her Grace rose, and with modest paces Came to the Altar, where she kneel'd, and Saint-like Cast her faire eyes to Heauen, and pray'd deuoutly.
Then rose againe, and bow'd her to the people: When by the Arch-byshop of Canterbury, She had all the Royall makings of a Queene; As holy Oyle, Edward Confessors Crowne, The Rod, and Bird of Peace, and all such Emblemes Laid n.o.bly on her: which perform'd, the Quire With all the choysest Musicke of the Kingdome, Together sung Te Deum. So she parted, And with the same full State pac'd backe againe To Yorke-Place, where the Feast is held
1 Sir, You must no more call it Yorke-place, that's past: For since the Cardinall fell, that t.i.tles lost, 'Tis now the Kings, and call'd White-Hall
3 I know it: But 'tis so lately alter'd, that the old name Is fresh about me
2 What two Reuerend Byshops Were those that went on each side of the Queene?
3 Stokeley and Gardiner, the one of Winchester, Newly preferr'd from the Kings Secretary: The other London
2 He of Winchester Is held no great good louer of the Archbishops, The vertuous Cranmer
3 All the Land knowes that: How euer, yet there is no great breach, when it comes Cranmer will finde a Friend will not shrinke from him
2 Who may that be, I pray you
3 Thomas Cromwell, A man in much esteeme with th' King, and truly A worthy Friend. The King ha's made him Master o'th' Iewell House, And one already of the Priuy Councell
2 He will deserue more
3 Yes without all doubt.
Come Gentlemen, ye shall go my way, Which is to'th Court, and there ye shall be my Guests: Something I can command. As I walke thither, Ile tell ye more
Both. You may command vs Sir.
Exeunt.
Scena Secunda.
Enter Katherine Dowager, sicke, lead betweene Griffith, her Gentleman Vsher, and Patience her Woman.
Grif. How do's your Grace?
Kath. O Griffith, sicke to death: My Legges like loaden Branches bow to'th' Earth, Willing to leaue their burthen: Reach a Chaire, So now (me thinkes) I feele a little ease.
Did'st thou not tell me Griffith, as thou lead'st mee, That the great Childe of Honor, Cardinall Wolsey Was dead?
Grif. Yes Madam: but I thinke your Grace Out of the paine you suffer'd, gaue no eare too't
Kath. Pre'thee good Griffith, tell me how he dy'de.
If well, he stept before me happily For my example
Grif. Well, the voyce goes Madam, For after the stout Earle Northumberland Arrested him at Yorke, and brought him forward As a man sorely tainted, to his Answer, He fell sicke sodainly, and grew so ill He could not sit his Mule
Kath. Alas poore man
Grif. At last, with easie Rodes, he came to Leicester, Lodg'd in the Abbey; where the reuerend Abbot With all his Couent, honourably receiu'd him; To whom he gaue these words. O Father Abbot, An old man, broken with the stormes of State, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye: Giue him a little earth for Charity.
So went to bed; where eagerly his sicknesse Pursu'd him still, and three nights after this, About the houre of eight, which he himselfe Foretold should be his last, full of Repentance, Continuall Meditations, Teares, and Sorrowes, He gaue his Honors to the world agen, His blessed part to Heauen, and slept in peace
Kath. So may he rest, His Faults lye gently on him: Yet thus farre Griffith, giue me leaue to speake him, And yet with Charity. He was a man Of an vnbounded stomacke, euer ranking Himselfe with Princes. One that by suggestion Ty'de all the Kingdome. Symonie, was faire play, His owne Opinion was his Law. I'th' presence He would say vntruths, and be euer double Both in his words, and meaning. He was neuer (But where he meant to Ruine) pittifull.
His Promises, were as he then was, Mighty: But his performance, as he is now, Nothing: Of his owne body he was ill, and gaue The Clergy ill example
Grif. n.o.ble Madam: Mens euill manners, liue in Bra.s.se, their Vertues We write in Water. May it please your Highnesse To heare me speake his good now?
Kath. Yes good Griffith, I were malicious else
Grif. This Cardinall, Though from an humble Stocke, vndoubtedly Was fas.h.i.+on'd to much Honor. From his Cradle He was a Scholler, and a ripe, and good one: Exceeding wise, faire spoken, and perswading: Lofty, and sowre to them that lou'd him not: But, to those men that sought him, sweet as Summer.
And though he were vnsatisfied in getting, (Which was a sinne) yet in bestowing, Madam, He was most Princely: Euer witnesse for him Those twinnes of Learning, that he rais'd in you, Ipswich and Oxford: one of which, fell with him, Vnwilling to out-liue the good that did it.
The other (though vnfinish'd) yet so Famous, So excellent in Art, and still so rising, That Christendome shall euer speake his Vertue.
His Ouerthrow, heap'd Happinesse vpon him: For then, and not till then, he felt himselfe, And found the Blessednesse of being little.
And to adde greater Honors to his Age Then man could giue him; he dy'de, fearing G.o.d
Kath. After my death, I wish no other Herald, No other speaker of my liuing Actions, To keepe mine Honor, from Corruption, But such an honest Chronicler as Griffith.
Whom I most hated Liuing, thou hast made mee With thy Religious Truth, and Modestie, (Now in his Ashes) Honor: Peace be with him.
Patience, be neere me still, and set me lower, I haue not long to trouble thee. Good Griffith, Cause the Musitians play me that sad note I nam'd my Knell; whil'st I sit meditating On that Coelestiall Harmony I go too.
Sad and solemne Musicke.
Grif. She is asleep: Good wench, let's sit down quiet, For feare we wake her. Softly, gentle Patience.
The Vision. Enter solemnely tripping one after another, sixe Personages, clad in white Robes, wearing on their heades Garlands of Bayes, and golden Vizards on their faces, Branches of Bayes or Palme in their hands.
They first Conge vnto her, then Dance: and at certaine Changes, the first two hold a spare Garland ouer her Head, at which the other foure make reuerend Curtsies. Then the two that held the Garland, deliuer the same to the other next two, who obserue the same order in their Changes, and holding the Garland ouer her head. Which done, they deliuer the same Garland to the last two: who likewise obserue the same Order. At which (as it were by inspiration) she makes (in her sleepe) signes of reioycing, and holdeth vp her hands to heauen. And so, in their Dancing vanish, carrying the Garland with them. The Musicke continues.
Kath. Spirits of peace, where are ye? Are ye all gone?
And leaue me heere in wretchednesse, behinde ye?
Grif. Madam, we are heere
Kath. It is not you I call for, Saw ye none enter since I slept?
Grif. None Madam
Kath. No? Saw you not euen now a blessed Troope Inuite me to a Banquet, whose bright faces Cast thousand beames vpon me, like the Sun?
They promis'd me eternall Happinesse, And brought me Garlands (Griffith) which I feele I am not worthy yet to weare: I shall a.s.suredly
Grif. I am most ioyfull Madam, such good dreames Possesse your Fancy
Kath. Bid the Musicke leaue, They are harsh and heauy to me.
Musicke ceases.
Pati. Do you note How much her Grace is alter'd on the sodaine?
Shakespeare's First Folio Part 449
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Shakespeare's First Folio Part 449 summary
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