As the fhrouds make at fea in a ftiff tempeft,
As loud, and to as many tunes. Hats, cloaks,
Doublets, I think, flew up; and had their faces
Been loose, this day they had been loft.
I never faw before.

Such joy
Great-belly'd women,
That had not half a week to go, like rams
In the old time of war, would shake the prefs,
And make 'em reel before 'em. No man living
Could fay, this is my wife there, all were woven
So ftrangely in one piece.

3 Gen. But, pray, what follow'd?

3 Gen. At length her Grace rofe, and with modeft paces

Came to the altar, where the kneel'd; and, faint-like,
Caft her fair eyes to heav'n, and pray'd devoutly.
Then rofe again, and bow'd her to the people:
When by the Archbishop of Canterbury,
Sh' had all the royal makings of a Queen;
As holy oil, Edward Confeffor's Crown,
The rod, and bird of peace, and all fuch emblems
Laid nobly on her: which perform'd, the choir,
With all the choiceft mufick of the kingdom,
Together fung Te Deum. So fhe parted,
And with the fame full state pac'd back again
To York-Place, where the feaft is held.

1 Gen. You must no more call it York-Place, that's past.

For fince the Cardinal fell, that title's loft,

'Tis now the King's, and call'd Whitehall.
3 Gen. I know it:

But 'tis fo lately alter'd, that the old name
Is fresh about me.

2 Gen. What two reverend bishops

Were thofe, that went on each fide of the Queen?

3 Gen. Stokely and Gardiner; the one of Winchester, Newly preferr'd from the King's Secretary:

The other, London.

2 Gen. He of Winchester

Is held no great good lover of th' Archbishop,

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The virtuous Cranmer.

3 Gen. All the land knows that:

However, yet there's no great breach; when't comes, Cranmer will find a friend will not fhrink from him. 2 Gen. Who may that be, I pray you?

3 Gen. Thomas Cromwell,

A man in much esteem with th' King, and, truly,
A worthy friend. The King has made him
Mafter o'th' jewel-house,

And one, already, of the privy-council.
2 Gen. He will deferve more.

3 Gen. Yes, without all doubt.

Come, gentlemen, you shall go my way,

Which is to th' Court, and there fhall be my guests: Something I can command; as I walk thither,

I'll tell ye more.

Both. You may command us, Sir.

SCENE changes to Kimbolton.

[Exeunt.

Enter Catharine Dowager, fick, led between Griffith ber gentleman ufber, and Patience her woman.

WOW does your Grace?

Grif⋅ Ho

Cath. O Griffith, fick to death:

My legs, like loaded branches, bow to th' earth, Willing to leave their burthen: reach a chair-now, methinks, I feel a little ease.

So

[Sitting down. Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou led'ft me, That the great child of honour, Cardinal Wolfey, Was dead?

Grif. Yes, Madam; but I think, your Grace, Out of the pain you fuffer'd, gave no ear to't.

Cath. Pr'ythee, good Griffith, tell me how he dy'd.

If well, he stept before me happily,

For my example.

Grif. Well, the voice goes, Madam.

For

For after the ftout Earl of Northumberland

Arrested him at York, and brought him forward
(As a man forely tainted) to his anfwer,

He fell fick fuddenly, and grew fo ill
He could not fit his mule.

Cath. Alas, poor man!

Grif. At last, with eafie roads he came to Leicester; Lodg'd in the Abbey; where the rev'rend 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 fickness Purfu'd him ftill, and three nights after this, About the hour of eight, (which he himself Foretold, fhould be his laft) full of repentance, Continual meditations, tears and forrows,

He

gave his honours to the world again,

His bleffed part to heav'n, and flept in peace.

Cath. So may he reft, 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 ftomach, ever ranking
Himself with Princes: one, that by fuggeftion
Ty'd all the kingdom; fimony was fair play:
His own opinion was his law. I'th' Prefence
He would fay 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 now is, 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?

Cath. Yes, good Griffith,