For fuch receit of learning, is Black-Friars:
There ye fhall meet about this weighty business.
My Wolfey, fee it furnifh'd. O my Lord,
Would it not grieve an able man to leave

So fweet a bedfellow? but, confcience, confcience!-
O, 'tis a tender place, and I must leave her. [Exeunt.

SCENE, an Antechamber of the Queen's

Apartments.

Enter Anne Bullen, and an old Lady.

OT for that neither

Anne. NOT

that pinches.

-here's the pang,

His Highness having liv'd fo long with her, and the
So good a lady, that no tongue could ever
Pronounce dishonour of her; by my life,
She never knew harm-doing: oh, now after
So many courses of the fun, enthron'd,
Still growing in a majesty and pomp,

The which to leave's a thoufand-fold more bitter
Than fweet at firft t'acquire; after this procefs,
To give her the avant! it is a pity

Would move a monster.

Old L. Hearts of moft hard temper Melt and lament for her.

Anne. In God's will, better

She ne'er had known pomp; though 't be temporal. Yet if that quarrel, fortune, do divorce

It from the bearer, 'tis a fuff'rance panging

As foul and body's fev'ring.

Old L. Ah! poor lady,

She's ftranger now again.

Anne. So much the more
Muft pity drop upon her; verily,

I fwear, 'tis better to be lowly born,
And range with humble Livers in content;
Than to be perk'd up in a glist'ring grief,
And wear a golden forrow.

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Old L.

Old L. Our content

Is our beft having.

Anne. By my troth and maidenhead,

I would not be a Queen.

Old L. Befhrew me, I would,

And venture maidenhead for't; and fo would you,
For all this fpice of your hypocrify;

You, that have fo fair parts of woman on you,
Have too a woman's heart; which ever yet
Affected eminence, wealth, fovereignty;

Which, to fay footh, are bleffings
(Saving your mincing) the capacity

and which gifts

Of your foft cheveril confcience would receive,
If you might pleafe to ftretch it.

Anne. Nay, good troth

Old L. Yes, troth and troth: you would not be a Queen? Anne. No, not for all the riches under heav'n.

Old L.'Tis ftrange; a three-pence bow'd would hire me, Old as I am, to queen it; but I pray you,

What think you of a Dutchefs? have you limbs
To bear that load of title?

Anne. No, in truth.

Old L Then you are weakly made : pluck off a little :

I would not be a young Count in your way,

For more than blushing comes to if your back
Cannot vouchfafe this burden, 'tis too weak
Ever to get a boy.

Anne. How do you talk!

I fwear again, I would not be a Queen
For all the world.

Old L. In faith, for little England

You'd venture an emballing: I myself

Would for Carnarvonshire, though there belong'd

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

Enter Lord Chamberlain.

Ch. Good-morrow, ladies; what were't worth to know

The fecret of your conf'rence?

Anne. My good Lord,

Not

demand; it values not your asking:

Not your
Our mistress' forrows we were pitying.

Cham. It was a gentle bufinefs, and becoming
The action of good women: there is hope,

All will be well.

Anne. Now I pray God, amen!

Cham. You bear a gentle mind, and heav'nly bleffings Follow fuch creatures. That you may, fair lady, Perceive I speak fincerely, and high note's Ta'en of your many virtues; the King's Majefty Commends his good opinion to you, and Does purpose honour to you no lefs flowing Than Marchionefs of Pembroke; to which title A thousand pounds a year, annual fupport, Out of his grace he adds.

Anne. I do not know

What kind of my obedience I should tender;
More than my all, is nothing: Nor my prayers
Are not words duly hallow'd, nor my wishes
More worth than vanities; yet pray'rs and wishes
Are all I can return. 'Befeech your Lordship,
Vouchsafe to speak my thanks and my obedience,
As from a blushing handmaid to his Highness;
Whofe health and royalty I pray for.

Cham. Lady,

I fhall not fail t'approve the fair conceit,

The King hath of you. I've perus'd her well;
Beauty and honour in her are fo mingled,

[Afide.

That they have caught the King; and who knows yet, But from this lady may proceed a Gem,

To lighten all this ifle?-I'll to the King,

And fay, I spoke with you.

Anne. My honour'd Lord.

[Exit Lord Chamberlain.

Old L. Why, this it is: fee, fee!

I have been begging fixteen years in court,
(Am yet a courtier beggarly) nor could
Come pat betwixt too early and too late,
For any fuit of pounds: And you, oh fate!
(A very fresh fish here: fy, fy upon
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This

This compell'd fortune) have your mouth fill'd up, Before you open it.

Anne. This is ftrange to me.

Old L. How taftes it? is it bitter? forty pence, no: There was a lady once ('tis an old ftory)

That would not be a Queen, that would fhe not,
For all the mud in Egypt; have you heard it?
Anne. Come, you are pleafant.

Old L. With your theme, I could

O'er-mount the lark. The Marchionefs of Pembroke
A thoufand pounds a year, for pure refpect!
No other obligation? By my life,

That promifes more thoufands: honour's train
Is longer than his fore-fkirt. By this time,
I know, your back will bear a Dutchess. Say,
Are you not stronger than you were ?

Anne. Good lady,

Make yourself mirth with your particular fancy,
And leave me out on't. Would I had no being,
If this falute my blood a jot; it faints me
To think what follows.

The Queen is comfortless, and we forgetful
In our long abfence; pray, do not deliver
What here y'ave heard, to her.
Old L. What do you think me?

[Exeunt.

SCENE,

SCENE changes to Black-Fryars.

Trumpets, Sennet, and Cornets. Enter two Vergers, with fhort filver Wands; next them, two Scribes in the habits of Doctors: after them, the Bishop of Canterbury alone; after him, the Bishops of Lincoln, Ely, Rochefter, and St. Afaph; next them, with fome fmall diftance, follows a Gentleman bearing the purfe, with the great feal, and the Cardinal's hat; then two Priests, bearing each a filver Cross; then a gentleman-usher bare-headed, accompanied with a ferjeant at arms, bearing a mace; then two gentlemen, bearing two great filver pillars; after them, fide by fide, the two Cardinals; two noblemen with the favord and mace. The King takes place under the cloth of ftate; the two Cardinals fit under him, as judges. The Queen takes place, fome distance from the King. The Bishops place themselves on each fide the Court, in manner of a Confiftory: below them, the fcribes. The Lords fit next the Bishops. The rest of the attendants Stand in convenient order about the ftage.

Wol.

W

Hilft our commiffion from Rome is read,
Let filence be commanded..

King. What's the need?

It hath already publickly been read,

And on all fides th' authority allow'd;

You may then spare that time.

Wol. Be't fo; proceed.

Scribe. Say, Henry King of England, come into the Court. Crier. Henry King of England, &c.

King. Here.

Scribe. Say, Catharine Queen of England,

Come into the Court.

Crier. Catharine, Queen of England, &c.

[The Queen makes no answer, rifes out of her chair, goes about the Court, comes to the King, and kneels at his feet; then Speaks.]

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Queen.