King John & Henry VIII

by William Shakespeare

  NORFOLK We had need pray,

  And heartily, for our deliverance,

  Or this imperious man will work us all

  From princes into pages: all men’s honours

  Lie like one lump51 before him, to be fashioned

  Into what pitch52 he please.

  SUFFOLK For53 me, my lords,

  I love him not, nor fear him: there’s my creed:

  As I am made without him, so I’ll stand55,

  If the king please: his curses and his blessings

  Touch me alike: they’re breath57 I not believe in.

  I knew him, and I know him: so I leave him

  To him that made him proud: the Pope.

  NORFOLK Let’s in,

  And with some other business put the king

  From these sad thoughts, that work too much upon him:

  My lord, you’ll bear us company?

  CHAMBERLAIN Excuse me,

  The king has sent me otherwhere65: besides,

  You’ll find a most unfit time to disturb him:

  Health to your lordships.

  NORFOLK Thanks, my good Lord Chamberlain.

  Exit Lord Chamberlain, and the King [Henry] draws the curtain and sits reading pensively

  SUFFOLK How sad he looks: sure, he is much afflicted.

  KING HENRY VIII Who’s there? Ha?

  NORFOLK Pray God he be not angry.

  KING HENRY VIII Who’s there, I say? How dare you thrust yourselves

  Into my private meditations?

  Who am I? Ha?

  NORFOLK A gracious king that pardons all offences

  Malice ne’er meant: our breach of duty this way76

  Is business of estate77, in which we come

  To know your royal pleasure.

  KING HENRY VIII Ye are too bold:

  Go to80: I’ll make ye know your times of business:

  Is this an hour for temporal81 affairs? Ha?

  Enter [Cardinal] Wolsey and [Cardinal] Campeius with a commission

  Who’s there? My good lord cardinal? O my Wolsey,

  The quiet83 of my wounded conscience:

  Thou art a cure84 fit for a king.— You’re welcome,

  To Cardinal Campeius

  Most learnèd reverend sir, into our kingdom:

  Use us and it.— My good lord, have great care

  To Cardinal Wolsey

  I be not found a talker87.

  CARDINAL WOLSEY Sir, you cannot:

  I would your grace would give us but an hour

  Of private conference.

  To Norfolk and Suffolk

  KING HENRY VIII We are busy: go.

  Norfolk and Suffolk speak

  NORFOLK This priest92 has no pride in him?

  aside

  SUFFOLK Not to speak of:

  I would not be so sick94 though for his place:

  But this cannot continue.

  NORFOLK If it do,

  I’ll venture one have-at-him97.

  SUFFOLK I another.

  Exeunt Norfolk and Suffolk

  CARDINAL WOLSEY Your grace has given a precedent99 of wisdom

  Above all princes, in committing freely

  Your scruple to the voice of Christendom101:

  Who can be angry now? What envy102 reach you?

  The Spaniard, tied by blood and favour to her103,

  Must now confess104, if they have any goodness,

  The trial just and noble. All the clerks105,

  I mean the learnèd ones in Christian kingdoms,

  Have their free voices107. Rome, the nurse of judgement,

  Invited by your noble self, hath sent

  One general tongue109 unto us: this good man,

  This just and learnèd priest, Card’nal Campeius,

  Whom once more I present unto your highness.

  KING HENRY VIII And once more in mine arms I bid him welcome,

  And thank the holy conclave113 for their loves:

  They have sent me such a man I would have wished for.

  CARDINAL CAMPEIUS Your grace must needs deserve all strangers115’ loves,

  You are so noble: to your highness’ hand

  I tender my commission, by whose virtue117,

  The court of Rome commanding, you my lord

  Cardinal of York, are joined with me their servant

  In the unpartial120 judging of this business.

  KING HENRY VIII Two equal men: the queen shall be acquainted

  Forthwith for what you come. Where’s Gardiner?

  CARDINAL WOLSEY I know your majesty has always loved her

  So dear in heart, not to deny her that124

  A woman of less place125 might ask by law:

  Scholars allowed freely to argue for her.

  KING HENRY VIII Ay, and the best she shall have, and my favour

  To him that does best, God forbid else. Cardinal,

  Prithee call Gardiner to me, my new secretary.

  Cardinal Wolsey calls Gardiner

  I find him a fit130 fellow.

  Enter Gardiner

  CARDINAL WOLSEY Give me your hand: much joy and favour to you;

  Aside to Gardiner

  You are the king’s now.

  Aside to Wolsey

  GARDINER But to be commanded

  For ever by your grace, whose hand has raised me.

  KING HENRY VIII Come hither, Gardiner.

  [The King] walks and whispers [with Gardiner]

  CARDINAL CAMPEIUS My lord of York, was not one Doctor Pace

  In this man’s place before him?

  CARDINAL WOLSEY Yes, he was.

  CARDINAL CAMPEIUS Was he not held a learnèd man?

  CARDINAL WOLSEY Yes, surely.

  CARDINAL CAMPEIUS Believe me, there’s an ill opinion spread then,

  Even of yourself, lord cardinal.

  CARDINAL WOLSEY How? Of me?

  CARDINAL CAMPEIUS They will not stick144 to say you envied him,

  And fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous,

  Kept him a foreign man still146, which so grieved him,

  That he ran mad and died.

  CARDINAL WOLSEY Heav’n’s peace be with him:

  That’s Christian care enough: for living murmurers149

  There’s places of rebuke. He was a fool,

  For he would needs be virtuous. That good fellow,

  If I command him, follows my appointment152:

  I will have none so near else153. Learn this, brother,

  We live not to be griped by meaner154 persons.

  To Gardiner

  KING HENRY VIII Deliver this with modesty155 to th’queen.

  Exit Gardiner

  The most convenient place that I can think of

  For such receipt of learning is Blackfriars157:

  There ye shall meet about this weighty business.

  My Wolsey, see it furnished159. O, my lord,

  Would it not grieve an able160 man to leave

  So sweet a bedfellow? But, conscience161, conscience:

  O, ’tis a tender place, and I must leave her.

  Exeunt

  Act 2 Scene 3

  running scene 6

  Enter Anne Bullen and an Old Lady

  ANNE Not for that neither: here’s the pang that pinches1:

  His highness having lived so long with her, and she

  So good a lady that no tongue could ever

  Pronounce4 dishonour of her — by my life,

  She never knew harm-doing — O, now, after

  So many courses of the sun6 enthroned,

  Still growing in a majesty and pomp, the which

  To leave a thousandfold more bitter than

  ’Tis sweet at first to acquire — after this process9,

  To give her the avaunt, it is a pity10

  Would move a monster.

  OLD LADY Hearts of most hard temper12

  Melt and lament for her.

  ANNE O, God’s will! Much better

  She ne’er had know
n pomp: though’t be temporal15,

  Yet, if that quarrel16, fortune, do divorce

  It from the bearer, ’tis a sufferance panging17

  As soul and body’s severing.

  OLD LADY Alas, poor lady,

  She’s a stranger20 now again.

  ANNE So much the more

  Must pity drop upon her: verily,

  I swear, ’tis better to be lowly born,

  And range with humble livers24 in content,

  Than to be perked up in a glist’ring25 grief,

  And wear a golden sorrow.

  OLD LADY Our content

  Is our best having28.

  ANNE By my troth and maidenhead29,

  I would not be a queen.

  OLD LADY Beshrew31 me, I would,

  And venture maidenhead for’t, and so would you,

  For all this spice33 of your hypocrisy:

  You, that have so fair parts34 of woman on you,

  Have, too, a woman’s heart, which ever yet

  Affected36 eminence, wealth, sovereignty:

  Which, to say sooth37, are blessings: and which gifts,

  Saving your mincing38, the capacity

  Of your soft cheverel39 conscience would receive,

  If you might please to stretch it.

  ANNE Nay, good troth41.

  OLD LADY Yes, troth and troth: you would not be a queen?

  ANNE No, not for all the riches under heaven.

  OLD LADY ’Tis strange: a three-pence bowed44 would hire me,

  Old as I am, to queen it45: but, I pray you,

  What think you of a duchess? Have you limbs

  To bear that load of title47?

  ANNE No, in truth.

  OLD LADY Then you are weakly made: pluck off49 a little:

  I would not be a young count in your way50,

  For more than blushing comes to51: if your back

  Cannot vouchsafe this burden52, ’tis too weak

  Ever to get53 a boy.

  ANNE How you do talk!

  I swear again, I would not be a queen

  For all the world.

  OLD LADY In faith, for little England57

  You’d venture an emballing58: I myself

  Would for Caernarvonshire, although there longed59

  No more to th’crown but that. Lo, who comes here?

  Enter Lord Chamberlain

  CHAMBERLAIN Good morrow, ladies: what were’t worth to know

  The secret of your conference62?

  ANNE My good lord,

  Not your demand: it values not64 your asking:

  Our mistress’ sorrows we were pitying.

  CHAMBERLAIN It was a gentle66 business, and becoming

  The action of good women: there is hope

  All will be well.

  ANNE Now I pray God, amen.

  CHAMBERLAIN You bear a gentle mind, and heav’nly blessings

  Follow such creatures. That you may, fair lady,

  Perceive I speak sincerely, and high note’s

  Ta’en of your many virtues: the king’s majesty

  Commends74 his good opinion of you, and

  Does purpose75 honour to you no less flowing

  Than Marchioness of Pembroke: to which title

  A thousand pound a year, annual support,

  Out of his grace78 he adds.

  ANNE I do not know

  What kind of my obedience I should tender80:

  More than my all is nothing81: nor my prayers

  Are not words duly hallowed82, nor my wishes

  More83 worth than empty vanities: yet prayers and wishes

  Are all I can return. Beseech your lordship,

  Vouchsafe85 to speak my thanks and my obedience,

  As from a blushing handmaid to his highness,

  Whose health and royalty I pray for.

  CHAMBERLAIN Lady,

  I shall not fail t’approve the fair conceit89

  Aside

  The king hath of you.— I have perused90 her well:

  Beauty and honour in her are so mingled

  That they have caught the king: and who knows yet

  But from this lady may proceed a gem93

  To Anne

  To lighten94 all this isle.— I’ll to the king

  And say I spoke with you.

  ANNE My honoured lord.

  Exit Lord Chamberlain

  OLD LADY Why, this it is: see, see!

  I have been begging sixteen years in court,

  Am yet a courtier beggarly99, nor could

  Come pat100 betwixt too early and too late

  For any suit of pounds101, and you — O fate! —

  A very fresh fish here — fie102, fie, fie upon

  This compelled fortune! — have your mouth filled up103

  Before you open it.

  ANNE This is strange105 to me.

  OLD LADY How tastes it? Is it bitter? Forty pence106, no:

  There was a lady once, ’tis an old story,

  That would not be a queen108, that would she not

  For all the mud in Egypt109: have you heard it?

  ANNE Come, you are pleasant110.

  OLD LADY With your theme111, I could

  O’ermount112 the lark. The Marchioness of Pembroke?

  A thousand pounds a year for pure respect?

  No other obligation? By my life,

  That promises more thousands: honour’s train115

  Is longer than his foreskirt: by this time

  I know your back will bear a duchess117. Say,

  Are you not stronger than you were?

  ANNE Good lady,

  Make yourself mirth with your particular fancy120,

  And leave me out on’t121. Would I had no being

  If this salute my blood a jot: it faints me122,

  To think what follows.

  The queen is comfortless, and we forgetful

  In our long absence: pray, do not deliver125

  What here you’ve heard to her.

  OLD LADY What do you think me?

  Exeunt

  Act 2 Scene 4

  running scene 7

  Trumpets, sennet and cornets. Enter two Vergers, with short silver wands; next them two Scribes in the habit of doctors [and a Crier]: after them, the [Arch]bishop of Canterbury alone: after him, the Bishops of Lincoln, Ely, Rochester and St Asaph: next them, with some small distance, follows a Gentleman bearing the purse, with the great seal, and a cardinal’s hat: then two Priests, bearing each a silver cross: then a Gentleman-usher bare-headed, accompanied with a Sergeant-at-arms, bearing a silver mace: then two Gentlemen bearing two great silver pillars: after them, side by side, the two Cardinals

  [Wolsey and Campeius], two Noblemen, with the sword and mace. The King [Henry] takes place under the cloth of state. The two Cardinals sit under him as judges. The Queen [Katherine, attended by Griffith] takes place some distance from the King. The Bishops place themselves on each side the court in manner of a consistory: below them, the Scribes. The Lords sit next the Bishops. The rest of the Attendants stand in convenient order about the stage

  CARDINAL WOLSEY Whilst our commission from Rome is read,

  Let silence be commanded.

  KING HENRY VIII What’s the need?

  It hath already publicly been read,

  And on all sides th’authority allowed5:

  You may then spare that time.

  CARDINAL WOLSEY Be’t so. Proceed.

  SCRIBE Say, ‘Henry, King of England, come into the court.’

  CRIER Henry, King of England, come into the court.

  KING HENRY VIII Here.

  SCRIBE Say, ‘Katherine, Queen of England, come into the

  court.’

  CRIER Katherine, Queen of England, come into the court.

  The Queen makes no answer, rises out of her chair, goes about the court, comes to the King, and kneels at his feet: then speaks

  QUEEN KATHERINE Sir, I desire you do me right and justice,

 
And to bestow your pity on me, for

  I am a most poor woman, and a stranger16,

  Born out of your dominions, having here

  No judge indifferent18, nor no more assurance

  Of equal friendship and proceeding19. Alas, sir,

  In what have I offended you? What cause

  Hath my behaviour given to your displeasure,

  That thus you should proceed to put me off22,

  And take your good grace23 from me? Heaven witness,

  I have been to you a true and humble wife,

  At all times to your will conformable25,

  Ever in fear to kindle your dislike26,

  Yea, subject to your countenance27, glad or sorry,

  As I saw it inclined. When was the hour

  I ever contradicted your desire,

  Or made it not mine too? Or which of your friends

  Have I not strove to love, although I knew

  He were mine enemy? What friend of mine,

  That had to him derived33 your anger, did I

  Continue in my liking? Nay, gave notice

  He was from thence discharged? Sir, call to mind

  That I have been your wife, in this obedience,

  Upward of twenty years, and have been blessed