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 of
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
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 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 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!
WOLSEY. You have here, lady,
And of your choice, these
reverend fathers-men
Of
singularintegrity 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 produc'd and heard.
QUEEN KATHARINE. Lord Cardinal,
To you I speak.
WOLSEY. Your pleasure, madam?
QUEEN KATHARINE. Sir,
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.
WOLSEY. Be patient yet.
QUEEN KATHARINE. 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.
WOLSEY. 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
speakingAnd to say so no more.
QUEEN KATHARINE. 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' favours,
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 honour than
Your high
professionspiritual; 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]
CAMPEIUS. 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.
KING. Call her again.
CRIER. Katharine Queen of England, come into the court.
GENTLEMAN USHER. Madam, you are call'd back.
QUEEN KATHARINE. 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
KING. 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.
WOLSEY. 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?
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. 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 honour,
I speak my good Lord Cardinal 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 Orleans and
Our daughter Mary. I' th' progress of this business,
Ere a determinate
resolution, he-
I mean the Bishop-did require a
respiteWherein 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 splitting 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 the 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