The Complete Works of William Shakespeare · William Shakespeare
SCENE IV. A hall in Blackfriars.
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 Noblemen 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 consistory; below them the Scribes. The Lords sit next the Bishops. The rest of the Attendants stand in convenient order about the stage. WOLSEY. Whilst our commission from Rome is read, Let silence be commanded. KING. What’s the need? It hath already publicly been read, And on all sides th’ authority allowed; You may then spare that time. 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. 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 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 behaviour 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 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 derived 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 With many children by you.
If, in the course And process of this time, you can report, And prove it too, against mine honour 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 unmatched wit and judgement. Ferdinand, My father, King of Spain, was reckoned one The wisest prince that there had reigned by many A year before. It is not to be questioned That they had gathered a wise council to them Of every realm, that did debate this business, Who deemed our marriage lawful. Wherefore I humbly Beseech you, sir, to spare me till I may Be by my friends in Spain advised, whose counsel I will implore. If not, i’ th’ name of God, Your pleasure be fulfilled. WOLSEY. 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.
CAMPEIUS. His Grace Hath spoken well and justly. Therefore, madam, It’s fit this royal session do proceed, And that without delay their arguments Be now produced and heard. QUEEN KATHERINE. Lord Cardinal, To you I speak. WOLSEY. Your pleasure, madam. QUEEN KATHERINE. Sir, I am about to weep; but, thinking that We are a queen, or long have dreamed so, certain The daughter of a king, my drops of tears I’ll turn to sparks of fire. WOLSEY. Be patient yet. QUEEN KATHERINE. I will, when you are humble; nay, before, Or God will punish me. I do believe, Induced 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.
WOLSEY. I do profess You speak not like yourself, who ever yet Have stood to charity and displayed th’ effects Of disposition gentle and of wisdom O’ertopping woman’s power. 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. QUEEN KATHERINE. My lord, my lord, I am a simple woman, much too weak T’ oppose your cunning. You’re meek and humble-mouthed; You sign your place and calling, in full seeming, With meekness and humility; but your heart Is crammed with arrogancy, spleen, and pride. You have, by fortune and his Highness’ favours, Gone slightly o’er low steps, and now are mounted Where powers 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 honour 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 judged by him.
KING. My Lord Cardinal, I do excuse you; yea, upon mine honour, 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. You’re excused. But will you be more justified? You ever Have wished the sleeping of this business, never desired It to be stirred, but oft have hindered, oft, The passages made toward it. On my honour, I speak my good Lord Cardinal to this point And thus far clear him. Now, what moved 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 received a tenderness, Scruple, and prick on certain speeches uttered By th’ Bishop of Bayonne, then French ambassador, Who had been hither sent on the debating A marriage ’twixt the Duke of Orleans 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, entered me, Yea, with a splitting power, and made to tremble The region of my breast; which forced such way That many mazed considerings did throng And pressed 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 conceived 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 aired them. Hence I took a thought This was a judgement 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 weighed 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 learned. First I began in private With you, my Lord of Lincoln. You remember How under my oppression I did reek When I first moved you.
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.