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Sad and folemn musick.

Grif. She is afleep. Good wench, let's fit down quiet,

For fear we wake her. Softly, gentle Patience.

The vifion. Enter folemnly one after another, fix perfonages, clad in white robes, wearing on their heads garlands of bays, and golden vizards on their faces; branches of bays, or palm in their bands. They first congee unto her, then dance; and, at certain changes, the first two hold a fpare garland over her head; at which, the other four make reverend courtefies; then the two, that held the garland, deliver the fame to the other next two; who obferve the fame order in their changes, and holding the garland over her head; which done, they deliver the fame garland to the last two, who likewife obferve the fame order; at which, as it were by infpiration, he makes in her fleep figns of rejoicing, and boldeth up her hands to heaven; and fo in their dancing vanifh, carrying the garland with them. The mufick continues.

Cath. Spirits of peace; where are ye? are ye gone ? And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye? Grif. Madam, we're here.

Cath. It is not you I call for;

Saw ye none enter, fince I flept?
Grif. None, Madam.

Cath. No? faw you not e'en now a bleffed troop
Invite me to a banquet, whofe bright faces
Caft thousand beams upon me, like the fun?
They promised me eternal happiness,

And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel
I am not worthy yet to wear: 1 fhall affuredly.
Grif. I am moft joyful, Madam, fuch good dreams
Poffefs your fancy.

VOL. V.

Hh

Cath.

Cath. Bid the mufick leave,

'Tis harsh and heavy to me.

Pat. Do you note,

[Mufick ceafes.

How much her Grace is alter'd on the fudden?

How long her face is drawn? how pale fhe looks,
And of an earthly cold? obferve her eyes.

Grif. She is going, wench. Pray, pray--
Pat. Heav'n comfort her.

Enter a Meffenger.

Mef. An't like

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Cath. You are a fawcy fellow,

Deserve we no more rev'rence?
Grif. You're to blame,

Knowing fhe will not lofe her wonted greatnefs,
To ufe fo rude behaviour. Go to, kneel.

Mef. [Kneeling.] I humbly do intreat your Highnefs' pardon;

My hafte made me unmannerly. There is staying
A gentleman, fent from the King, to fee you.
Cath. Admit him entrance, Griffith.

fellow

Let me ne'er fee again.

Enter Lord Capucius.

If my fight fail not,

But this

[Exit Messenger.

You fhould be Lord ambaffador from the Emperor, My royal nephew; and your name Capucius.

Cap. Madam, the fame, your fervant.

Cath. O my Lord,

The times and titles are now alter'd strangely

With me, fince firft you knew me. But, I pray you,

What is your pleasure with me?

Cap. Noble lady,

First, mine own fervice to your Grace; the next,
The King's request that I would visit you,

Who grieves much for your weakness, and by me

Sends

Sends you his princely commendations,

And heartily intreats you take good comfort.

Catb. O my good Lord, that comfort comes too

late;

'Tis like a pardon after execution;

That gentle phyfick, giv'n in time, had cur'd me;
But now I'm paft all comforts here, but prayers.
How does his Highness?

Cap. Madam, in good health.

Cath. So may he ever do, and ever flourish, When I fhall dwell with worms, and my poor name Banish'd the kingdom!-Patience, is that letter, I caus'd you write, yet fent away?

Pat. No, Madam.

Cath. Sir, I must humbly pray you to deliver This to my Lord the King.

Cap. Moft willing, Madam.

Cath. In which I have commended to his goodneis
The model of our chafte loves, his young daughter;
The dews of heav'n fall thick in bleffings on her!
Befeeching him to give her virtuous breeding,
(She's young, and of a noble modest nature;
I hope, fhe will deferve well) and a little

To love her for her mother's fake, that lov'd him,
Heav'n knows, how dearly. My next poor petition
Is, that his noble Grace would have fome pity
Upon my wretched women, that fo long
Have follow'd both my fortunes faithfully;
Of which there is not one, I dare avow,
And now I fhould not lie, but well deferves,
For virtue and true beauty of the foul,
For honesty and decent carriage,

A right good hufband, let him be a noble;

And, fure, thofe men are happy, that shall have 'em.
The laft is for my men; they are the pooreft,
But poverty could never draw 'em from me;
That they may have their wages duly paid 'em,
And fomething over to remember me.

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If

If heav'n had pleas'd to've giv'n 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 deareft in this world,

As you with chriftian peace to fouls departed,
Stand these poor people's friend, and urge the King
To do me this last right.

Cap. By heav'n, I will;

Or let me lose the fashion of a man!
Cath. I thank you, honeft Lord.
In all humility unto his Highness;

Remember me

And tell him, his long trouble now is paffing
Out of this world. Tell him, in death I blest him;
For fo I will-Mine eyes grow dim. Farewel,
My LordGriffith, farewel-Nay, Patience,
You must not leave me yet. I must to bed-
Call in more women-When I'm dead, good wench,
Let me be us'd with honour; ftrew me over
With maiden flow'rs, that all the world may know
I was a chafte wife to my grave; embalm me,
Then lay me forth. Although unqueen'd, yet like
A Queen, and daughter to a King, interr me.
I can no more-

[Exeunt, leading Catharine,

ACT

ACT V.
V.

SCENE I.

Before the Palace.

Enter Gardiner Bishop of Winchester, a Page with a torch before him, met by Sir Thomas Lovell.

GARDINER.

T's one o'clock, boy, is't not?

IT'S

Boy. It hath ftruck.

Gard. Thefe fhould be hours for neceffities, 'Not for delights; time, to repair our nature

With comforting repofe, and not for us

To wafte thefe times. Good hour of night, Sir Thomas?

Whither fo late?

Lov. Came you from the King, my Lord? Gard. I did, Sir Thomas, and left him at Primero With the Duke of Suffolk.

Lov. I muft to him too,

Before he go to bed. I'll take my leave.

Gard. Not yet, Sir Thomas Lovell; what's the matter?

It seems you're in hafte; and if there be
No great offence belongs to't, give your friend
* Some touch of your late business. Affairs, that walk,
As they fay, fpirits do, at midnight, have

In them a wilder nature, than the business
That feeks dispatch by day.

Lov. My Lord, I love you.

Not for delights] Gardiner himself is not much delighted. The delight at which he hints, feems to be the King's diverfion, which keeps him in attendance.

2 Some touch of your late bufinefs.] Some hint of the bu finefs that keeps you awake fo late.

Hh 3

And

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