Chapter: Enter Katherine Dowager, sicke, lead betweene Griffith, her
Gentleman
Vsher, and Patience her Woman.

Grif. How do's your Grace?
Kath. O Griffith, sicke to death:
My Legges like loaden Branches bow to'th' Earth,
   Willing to leaue their burthen: Reach a Chaire,
   So now (me thinkes) I feele a little ease.
   Did'st thou not tell me Griffith, as thou lead'st mee,
   That the great Childe of Honor, Cardinall Wolsey
   Was dead?
   Grif. Yes Madam: but I thinke your Grace
   Out of the paine you suffer'd, gaue no eare too't

   Kath. Pre'thee good Griffith, tell me how he dy'de.
   If well, he stept before me happily
   For my example

   Grif. Well, the voyce goes Madam,
   For after the stout Earle Northumberland
   Arrested him at Yorke, and brought him forward
   As a man sorely tainted, to his Answer,
   He fell sicke sodainly, and grew so ill
   He could not sit his Mule

   Kath. Alas poore man

   Grif. At last, with easie Rodes, he came to Leicester,
   Lodg'd in the Abbey; where the reuerend Abbot
   With all his Couent, honourably receiu'd him;
   To whom he gaue these words. O Father Abbot,
   An old man, broken with the stormes of State,
   Is come to lay his weary bones among ye:
   Giue him a little earth for Charity.
   So went to bed; where eagerly his sicknesse
   Pursu'd him still, and three nights after this,
   About the houre of eight, which he himselfe
   Foretold should be his last, full of Repentance,
   Continuall Meditations, Teares, and Sorrowes,
   He gaue his Honors to the world agen,
   His blessed part to Heauen, and slept in peace

   Kath. So may he rest,
   His Faults lye gently on him:
   Yet thus farre Griffith, giue me leaue to speake him,
   And yet with Charity. He was a man
   Of an vnbounded stomacke, euer ranking
   Himselfe with Princes. One that by suggestion
   Ty'de all the Kingdome. Symonie, was faire play,
   His owne Opinion was his Law. I'th' presence
   He would say vntruths, and be euer double
   Both in his words, and meaning. He was neuer
   (But where he meant to Ruine) pittifull.
   His Promises, were as he then was, Mighty:
   But his performance, as he is now, Nothing:
   Of his owne body he was ill, and gaue
   The Clergy ill example

   Grif. Noble Madam:
   Mens euill manners, liue in Brasse, their Vertues
   We write in Water. May it please your Highnesse
   To heare me speake his good now?
   Kath. Yes good Griffith,
   I were malicious else

   Grif. This Cardinall,
   Though from an humble Stocke, vndoubtedly
   Was fashion'd to much Honor. From his Cradle
   He was a Scholler, and a ripe, and good one:
   Exceeding wise, faire spoken, and perswading:
   Lofty, and sowre to them that lou'd him not:
   But, to those men that sought him, sweet as Summer.
   And though he were vnsatisfied in getting,
   (Which was a sinne) yet in bestowing, Madam,
   He was most Princely: Euer witnesse for him
   Those twinnes of Learning, that he rais'd in you,
   Ipswich and Oxford: one of which, fell with him,
   Vnwilling to out-liue the good that did it.
   The other (though vnfinish'd) yet so Famous,
   So excellent in Art, and still so rising,
   That Christendome shall euer speake his Vertue.
   His Ouerthrow, heap'd Happinesse vpon him:
   For then, and not till then, he felt himselfe,
   And found the Blessednesse of being little.
   And to adde greater Honors to his Age
   Then man could giue him; he dy'de, fearing God

   Kath. After my death, I wish no other Herald,
   No other speaker of my liuing Actions,
   To keepe mine Honor, from Corruption,
   But such an honest Chronicler as Griffith.
   Whom I most hated Liuing, thou hast made mee
   With thy Religious Truth, and Modestie,
   (Now in his Ashes) Honor: Peace be with him.
   Patience, be neere me still, and set me lower,
   I haue not long to trouble thee. Good Griffith,
   Cause the Musitians play me that sad note
   I nam'd my Knell; whil'st I sit meditating
   On that Coelestiall Harmony I go too.

   Sad and solemne Musicke.

   Grif. She is asleep: Good wench, let's sit down quiet,
   For feare we wake her. Softly, gentle Patience.

   The Vision. Enter solemnely tripping one after another, sixe
   Personages,
   clad in white Robes, wearing on their heades Garlands of Bayes,
   and golden
   Vizards on their faces, Branches of Bayes or Palme in their hands.
   They
   first Conge vnto her, then Dance: and at certaine Changes, the first
   two
   hold a spare Garland ouer her Head, at which the other foure make
   reuerend
   Curtsies. Then the two that held the Garland, deliuer the same to
   the other
   next two, who obserue the same order in their Changes, and
   holding the
   Garland ouer her head. Which done, they deliuer the same Garland
   to the
   last two: who likewise obserue the same Order. At which (as it
           were by
           inspiration) she makes (in her sleepe) signes of reioycing, and
   holdeth vp
   her hands to heauen. And so, in their Dancing vanish, carrying the
   Garland
   with them. The Musicke continues.

   Kath. Spirits of peace, where are ye? Are ye all gone?
   And leaue me heere in wretchednesse, behinde ye?
   Grif. Madam, we are heere

   Kath. It is not you I call for,
   Saw ye none enter since I slept?
   Grif. None Madam

   Kath. No? Saw you not euen now a blessed Troope
   Inuite me to a Banquet, whose bright faces
   Cast thousand beames vpon me, like the Sun?
   They promis'd me eternall Happinesse,
   And brought me Garlands (Griffith) which I feele
   I am not worthy yet to weare: I shall assuredly

   Grif. I am most ioyfull Madam, such good dreames
   Possesse your Fancy

   Kath. Bid the Musicke leaue,
   They are harsh and heauy to me.

   Musicke ceases.

   Pati. Do you note
   How much her Grace is alter'd on the sodaine?
   How long her face is drawne? How pale she lookes,
   And of an earthy cold? Marke her eyes?
   Grif. She is going Wench. Pray, pray

   Pati. Heauen comfort her.
   Enter a Messenger.

   Mes. And't like your Grace -
   Kath. You are a sawcy Fellow,
   Deserue we no more Reuerence?
   Grif. You are too blame,
   Knowing she will not loose her wonted Greatnesse
   To vse so rude behauiour. Go too, kneele

   Mes. I humbly do entreat your Highnesse pardon,
   My hast made me vnmannerly. There is staying
   A Gentleman sent from the King, to see you

   Kath. Admit him entrance Griffith. But this Fellow
   Let me ne're see againe.

   Exit Messeng.

   Enter Lord Capuchius.

   If my sight faile not,
   You should be Lord Ambassador from the Emperor,
   My Royall Nephew, and your name Capuchius

   Cap. Madam the same. Your Seruant

   Kath. O my Lord,
   The Times and Titles now are alter'd strangely
   With me, since first you knew me.
   But I pray you,
   What is your pleasure with me?
   Cap. Noble Lady,
   First mine owne seruice to your Grace, the next
   The Kings request, that I would visit you,
   Who greeues much for your weaknesse, and by me
   Sends you his Princely Commendations,
   And heartily entreats you take good comfort

   Kath. O my good Lord, that comfort comes too late,
   'Tis like a Pardon after Execution;
That gentle Physicke giuen in time, had cur'd me:
But now I am past all Comforts heere, but Prayers.
How does his Highnesse?
Cap. Madam, in good health

Kath. So may he euer do, and euer flourish,
    When I shall dwell with Wormes, and my poore name
    Banish'd the Kingdome. Patience, is that Letter
    I caus'd you write, yet sent away?
    Pat. No Madam

    Kath. Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliuer
    This to my Lord the King

    Cap. Most willing Madam

    Kath. In which I haue commended to his goodnesse
    The Modell of our chaste loues: his yong daughter,
    The dewes of Heauen fall thicke in Blessings on her,
    Beseeching him to giue her vertuous breeding.
    She is yong, and of a Noble modest Nature,
    I hope she will deserue well; and a little
    To loue her for her Mothers sake, that lou'd him,
    Heauen knowes how deerely.
    My next poore Petition,
    Is, that his Noble Grace would haue some pittie
    Vpon my wretched women, that so long
    Haue follow'd both my Fortunes, faithfully,
    Of which there is not one, I dare auow
    (And now I should not lye) but will deserue
    For Vertue, and true Beautie of the Soule,
    For honestie, and decent Carriage
A right good Husband (let him be a Noble)
    And sure those men are happy that shall haue 'em.
    The last is for my men, they are the poorest,
    (But pouerty could neuer draw 'em from me)
    That they may haue their wages, duly paid 'em,
    And something ouer to remember me by.
    If Heauen had pleas'd to haue giuen me longer life
    And able meanes, we had not parted thus.
    These are the whole Contents, and good my Lord,
    By that you loue the deerest in this world,
    As you wish Christian peace to soules departed,
    Stand these poore peoples Friend, and vrge the King
    To do me this last right

    Cap. By Heauen I will,
    Or let me loose the fashion of a man

    Kath. I thanke you honest Lord. Remember me
    In all humilitie vnto his Highnesse:
    Say his long trouble now is passing
    Out of this world. Tell him in death I blest him
    (For so I will) mine eyes grow dimme. Farewell
    My Lord. Griffith farewell. Nay Patience,
    You must not leaue me yet. I must to bed,
    Call in more women. When I am dead, good Wench,
    Let me be vs'd with Honor; strew me ouer
    With Maiden Flowers, that all the world may know
    I was a chaste Wife, to my Graue: Embalme me,
    Then lay me forth (although vnqueen'd) yet like
    A Queene, and Daughter to a King enterre me.
    I can no more.

    Exeunt. leading Katherine.

 Katherine, the princess dowager, is now in residence at Kimbolton and she is ailing. At her inquiry, Griffith, her gentleman usher, relates to her the manner in which Wolsey died. On hearing Katherines bitter words about Wolsey, Griffith tries to make her the dead mans human qualities and virtues. The musicians play for her, and tired she falls asleep. In her sleep she sees a vision, in which the spirits of peace promise her eternal happiness. When she wake up she looks so worn and tired that her servants fear she is dying. Capacious, a representative of the Spanish Emperor, visits Katherine on behalf of his master, Katherines nephew. He conveys to her the emperors sympathy for her condition. Before Capacious leaves, Katherine hands him a letter to be delivered to Henry, the King. The letter requests him to provide for their daughter, her serving men and women. The scene closes with her giving her woman patience, the final instructions about her funeral.

