A hall in Black-Friars.
(Vergers; First Scribe; Second Scribe; Archbishop of Canterbury; Bishop of Lincoln; Bishop of Ely; Bishop of Rochester; Bishop of Saint Asaph; Gentleman; Priests; Gentleman Usher; Sergeant-at-Arms; Cardinal Campeius; Cardinal Wolsey; Noble-Men; King Henry; Queen; Attendants)
At the trial of his divorce suit, the King is impatient. Katherine refuses to follow the proper procedure, instead kneeling at Henry’s feet and pleading directly to him. When Wolsey intervenes, she accuses him of being her enemy and refuses him the right to judge her, appealing directly to the Pope for judgment. Henry praises her while Wolsey begs that the King announce that the Cardinal is blameless. Henry recounts how he came to his opinion that his marriage is invalid. The court adjourns to consider matters further, while Henry expresses his dislike of the Cardinals and their slowness. (258 lines)
Trumpets, sennet, and cornets. Enter two Vergers, with short silver wands; next them, two Scribes, in the habit of doctors; after them, the Archbishop of Canterbury alone; after him, the Bishops of Lincoln, Ely, Rochester, and Saint 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; two Noble-Men with the sword and mace. The King takes place under the cloth of state; the two Cardinals sit under him as judges. The Queen 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.
Whilst our commission from Rome is read,
Let silence be commanded.
What’s the need?
It hath already publicly been read,
And on all sides th’ authority allow’d;
You may then spare that time.
Be’t so; proceed.
Say, Henry King of England, come into the court.
Henry King of England, etc.
Say, Katherine Queen of England, come into the court.
Katherine Queen of England, etc.
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.
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 stranger,
Born out of your dominions; having here
No judge indifferent, nor no more assurance
Of equal friendship and proceeding. Alas, sir!
In what have I offended you? What cause
Hath my behavior given to your displeasure,
That thus you should proceed to put me off,
And take your good grace from me? Heaven witness,
I have been to you a true and humble wife,
At all times to your will conformable;
Ever in fear to kindle your dislike,
Yea, subject to your countenance—glad, or sorry,
As I saw it inclin’d. 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 deriv’d your anger did I
Continue in my liking? Nay, gave notice
He was from thence discharg’d? Sir, call to mind
That I have been your wife in this obedience
Upward of twenty years, and have been blest
With many children by you. If, in the course
And process of this time, you can report,
And prove it too, against mine honor aught—
My bond to wedlock or my love and duty,
Against your sacred person—in God’s name
Turn me away; and let the foul’st contempt
Shut door upon me, and so give me up
To the sharp’st kind of justice. Please you, sir,
The King your father was reputed for
A prince most prudent, of an excellent
And unmatch’d wit and judgment; Ferdinand,
My father, King of Spain, was reckon’d one
The wisest prince that there had reign’d by many
A year before. It is not to be question’d
That they had gather’d a wise council to them
Of every realm, that did debate this business,
Who deem’d our marriage lawful; wherefore I humbly
Beseech you, sir, to spare me, till I may
Be by my friends in Spain advis’d, whose counsel
I will implore. If not, i’ th’ name of God,
Your pleasure be fulfill’d!
You have here, lady
(And of your choice), these reverend fathers, men
Of singular integrity and learning,
Yea, the elect o’ th’ land, who are assembled
To plead your cause. It shall be therefore bootless
That longer you desire the court, as well
For your own quiet, as to rectify
What is unsettled in the King.
Hath spoken well and justly; therefore, madam,
It’s fit this royal session do proceed,
And that, without delay, their arguments
Be now produc’d and heard.
To you I speak.
Your pleasure, madam?
I am about to weep; but thinking that
We are a queen (or long have dream’d so), certain
The daughter of a king, my drops of tears
I’ll turn to sparks of fire.
Be patient yet.
I will, when you are humble; nay, before,
Or God will punish me. I do believe
(Induc’d by potent circumstances) that
You are mine enemy, and make my challenge
You shall not be my judge; for it is you
Have blown this coal betwixt my lord and me—
Which God’s dew quench! Therefore I say again,
I utterly abhor, yea, from my soul
Refuse you for my judge, whom, yet once more,
I hold my most malicious foe, and think not
At all a friend to truth.
I do profess
You speak not like yourself, who ever yet
Have stood to charity, and display’d th’ effects
Of disposition gentle, and of wisdom
O’ertopping woman’s pow’r. Madam, you do me wrong,
I have no spleen against you, nor injustice
For you or any. How far I have proceeded,
Or how far further shall, is warranted
By a commission from the consistory,
Yea, the whole consistory of Rome. You charge me
That I have blown this coal. I do deny it.
The King is present: if it be known to him
That I gainsay my deed, how may he wound,
And worthily, my falsehood! Yea, as much
As you have done my truth. If he know
That I am free of your report, he knows
I am not of your wrong. Therefore in him
It lies to cure me, and the cure is to
Remove these thoughts from you; the which before
His Highness shall speak in, I do beseech
You, gracious madam, to unthink your speaking
And to say so no more.
My lord, my lord,
I am a simple woman, much too weak
T’ oppose your cunning. Y’ are meek and humble-mouth’d,
You sign your place and calling, in full seeming,
With meekness and humility; but your heart
Is cramm’d with arrogancy, spleen, and pride.
You have, by fortune and his Highness’ favors,
Gone slightly o’er low steps and now are mounted
Where pow’rs are your retainers, and your words
(Domestics to you) serve your will as’t please
Yourself pronounce their office. I must tell you,
You tender more your person’s honor than
Your high profession spiritual; that again
I do refuse you for my judge, and here,
Before you all, appeal unto the Pope,
To bring my whole cause ’fore his Holiness,
And to be judg’d by him.
She curtsies to the King and offers to depart.
The Queen is obstinate,
Stubborn to justice, apt to accuse it, and
Disdainful to be tried by’t: ’tis not well.
She’s going away.
Call her again.
Katherine Queen of England, come into the court.
Madam, you are call’d back.
What need you note it? Pray you keep your way;
When you are call’d, return. Now the Lord help!
They vex me past my patience. Pray you pass on.
I will not tarry; no, nor ever more
Upon this business my appearance make
In any of their courts.
Exeunt Queen and her Attendants.
Go thy ways, Kate.
That man i’ th’ world who shall report he has
A better wife, let him in nought be trusted
For speaking false in that. Thou art alone
(If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness,
Thy meekness saint-like, wife-like government,
Obeying in commanding, and thy parts
Sovereign and pious else, could speak thee out)
The queen of earthly queens. She’s noble born;
And like her true nobility she has
Carried herself towards me.
Most gracious sir,
In humblest manner I require your Highness
That it shall please you to declare, in hearing
Of all these ears (for, where I am robb’d and bound,
There must I be unloos’d, although not there
At once and fully satisfied), whether ever I
Did broach this business to your Highness, or
Laid any scruple in your way which might
Induce you to the question on’t? Or ever
Have to you, but with thanks to God for such
A royal lady, spake one the least word that might
Be to the prejudice of her present state,
Or touch of her good person?
My Lord Cardinal,
I do excuse you; yea, upon mine honor,
I free you from’t. You are not to be taught
That you have many enemies, that know not
Why they are so, but, like to village curs,
Bark when their fellows do: by some of these
The Queen is put in anger. Y’ are excus’d;
But will you be more justified? You ever
Have wish’d the sleeping of this business, never desir’d
It to be stirr’d; but oft have hind’red, oft,
The passages made toward it. On my honor,
I speak my good Lord Card’nal to this point,
And thus far clear him. Now, what mov’d me to’t,
I will be bold with time and your attention:
Then mark th’ inducement. Thus it came; give heed to’t:
My conscience first receiv’d a tenderness,
Scruple, and prick, on certain speeches utter’d
By th’ Bishop of Bayonne, then French ambassador,
Who had been hither sent on the debating
A marriage ’twixt the Duke of Orléans and
Our daughter Mary. I’ th’ progress of this business,
Ere a determinate resolution, he
(I mean the Bishop) did require a respite,
Wherein he might the King his lord advertise
Whether our daughter were legitimate,
Respecting this our marriage with the dowager,
Sometimes our brother’s wife. This respite shook
The bosom of my conscience, enter’d me,
Yea, with a spitting power, and made to tremble
The region of my breast, which forc’d such way,
That many maz’d considerings did throng
And press’d in with this caution. First, methought
I stood not in the smile of heaven, who had
Commanded nature, that my lady’s womb,
If it conceiv’d a male-child by me, should
Do no more offices of life to’t than
The grave does to th’ dead; for her male issue
Or died where they were made, or shortly after
This world had air’d them. Hence I took a thought
This was a judgment on me, that my kingdom
(Well worthy the best heir o’ th’ world) should not
Be gladded in’t by me. Then follows, that
I weigh’d the danger which my realms stood in
By this my issue’s fail, and that gave to me
Many a groaning throe. Thus hulling in
The wild sea of my conscience, I did steer
Toward this remedy, whereupon we are
Now present here together: that’s to say,
I meant to rectify my conscience—which
I then did feel full sick, and yet not well—
By all the reverend fathers of the land
And doctors learn’d. First I began in private
With you, my Lord of Lincoln. You remember
How under my oppression I did reek
When I first mov’d you.
Very well, my liege.
I have spoke long, be pleas’d yourself to say
How far you satisfied me.
So please your Highness,
The question did at first so stagger me,
Bearing a state of mighty moment in’t
And consequence of dread, that I committed
The daring’st counsel which I had to doubt,
And did entreat your Highness to this course
Which you are running here.
I then mov’d you,
My Lord of Canterbury, and got your leave
To make this present summons. Unsolicited
I left no reverend person in this court;
But by particular consent proceeded
Under your hands and seals. Therefore go on,
For no dislike i’ th’ world against the person
Of the good Queen, but the sharp thorny points
Of my alleged reasons, drives this forward.
Prove but our marriage lawful, by my life
And kingly dignity, we are contented
To wear our mortal state to come with her,
Katherine our queen, before the primest creature
That’s paragon’d o’ th’ world.
So please your Highness,
The Queen being absent, ’tis a needful fitness
That we adjourn this court till further day.
Mean while must be an earnest motion
Made to the Queen to call back her appeal
She intends unto his Holiness.
I may perceive
These Cardinals trifle with me; I abhor
This dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome.
My learn’d and well-beloved servant, Cranmer,
Prithee return; with thy approach, I know,
My comfort comes along.—Break up the court!
I say, set on.
Exeunt in manner as they enter’d.