Chapter: Enter Anne Bullen, and an old Lady.

An. Not for that neither; here's the pang that pinches.
His Highnesse, hauing liu'd so long with her, and she
So good a Lady, that no Tongue could euer
Pronounce dishonour of her; by my life,
          She neuer knew harme-doing: Oh, now after
          So many courses of the Sun enthroaned,
          Still growing in a Maiesty and pompe, the which
          To leaue, a thousand fold more bitter, then
          'Tis sweet at first t' acquire. After this Processe.
          To giue her the auaunt, it is a pitty
          Would moue a Monster

          Old La. Hearts of most hard temper
          Melt and lament for her

          An. Oh Gods will, much better
          She ne're had knowne pompe; though't be temporall,
          Yet if that quarrell. Fortune, do diuorce
          It from the bearer, 'tis a sufferance, panging
          As soule and bodies seuering

          Old L. Alas poore Lady,
          Shee's a stranger now againe

          An. So much the more
          Must pitty drop vpon her; verily
          I sweare, tis better to be lowly borne,
          And range with humble liuers in Content,
          Then to be perk'd vp in a glistring griefe,
          And weare a golden sorrow

          Old L. Our content
          Is our best hauing

          Anne. By my troth, and Maidenhead,
          I would not be a Queene

          Old.L. Beshrew me, I would,
          And venture Maidenhead for't, and so would you
          For all this spice of your Hipocrisie:
          You that haue so faire parts of Woman on you,
          Haue (too) a Womans heart, which euer yet
          Affected Eminence, Wealth, Soueraignty;
          Which, to say sooth, are Blessings; and which guifts
          (Sauing your mincing) the capacity
          Of your soft Chiuerell Conscience, would receiue,
          If you might please to stretch it

          Anne. Nay, good troth

          Old L. Yes troth, & troth; you would not be a Queen?
          Anne. No, not for all the riches vnder Heauen

          Old.L. Tis strange; a threepence bow'd would hire me
          Old as I am, to Queene it: but I pray you,
          What thinke you of a Dutchesse? Haue you limbs
          To beare that load of Title?
          An. No in truth

          Old.L. Then you are weakly made; plucke off a little,
          I would not be a young Count in your way,
          For more then blushing comes to: If your backe
          Cannot vouchsafe this burthen, tis too weake
          Euer to get a Boy

          An. How you doe talke;
          I sweare againe, I would not be a Queene,
          For all the world

          Old.L. In faith, for little England
          You'ld venture an emballing: I my selfe
          Would for Carnaruanshire, although there long'd
          No more to th' Crowne but that: Lo, who comes here?
          Enter Lord Chamberlaine.

          L.Cham. Good morrow Ladies; what wer't worth to know
          The secret of your conference?
          An. My good Lord,
          Not your demand; it values not your asking:
          Our Mistris Sorrowes we were pittying

          Cham. It was a gentle businesse, and becomming
          The action of good women, there is hope
          All will be well

          An. Now I pray God, Amen

          Cham. You beare a gentle minde, & heau'nly blessings
          Follow such Creatures. That you may, faire Lady
          Perceiue I speake sincerely, and high notes
          Tane of your many vertues; the Kings Maiesty
          Commends his good opinion of you, to you; and
          Doe's purpose honour to you no lesse flowing,
          Then Marchionesse of Pembrooke; to which Title,
          A Thousand pound a yeare, Annuall support,
          Out of his Grace, he addes

          An. I doe not know
          What kinde of my obedience, I should tender;
          More then my All, is Nothing: Nor my Prayers
          Are not words duely hallowed; nor my Wishes
          More worth, then empty vanities: yet Prayers & Wishes
          Are all I can returne. 'Beseech your Lordship,
          Vouchsafe to speake my thankes, and my obedience,
          As from a blushing Handmaid, to his Highnesse;
Whose health and Royalty I pray for

Cham. Lady;
I shall not faile t' approue the faire conceit
The King hath of you. I haue perus'd her well,
    Beauty and Honour in her are so mingled,
    That they haue caught the King: and who knowes yet
    But from this Lady, may proceed a Iemme,
    To lighten all this Ile. I'le to the King,
    And say I spoke with you.

    Exit Lord Chamberlaine.

    An. My honour'd Lord

    Old.L. Why this it is: See, see,
    I haue beene begging sixteene yeares in Court
    (Am yet a Courtier beggerly) nor could
    Come pat betwixt too early, and too late
    For any suit of pounds: and you, (oh fate)
    A very fresh Fish heere; fye, fye, fye vpon
    This compel'd fortune: haue your mouth fild vp,
    Before you open it

    An. This is strange to me

    Old L. How tasts it? Is it bitter? Forty pence, no:
There was a Lady once (tis an old Story)
    That would not be a Queene, that would she not
    For all the mud in Egypt; haue you heard it?
    An. Come you are pleasant

    Old.L. With your Theame, I could
    O're-mount the Larke: The Marchionesse of Pembrooke?
    A thousand pounds a yeare, for pure respect?
    No other obligation? by my Life,
    That promises mo thousands: Honours traine
    Is longer then his fore-skirt; by this time
    I know your backe will beare a Dutchesse. Say,
    Are you not stronger then you were?
    An. Good Lady,
    Make your selfe mirth with your particular fancy,
    And leaue me out on't. Would I had no being
    If this salute my blood a iot; it faints me
    To thinke what followes.
    The Queene is comfortlesse, and wee forgetfull
    In our long absence: pray doe not deliuer,
    What heere y'haue heard to her

    Old L. What doe you thinke me -

    Exeunt.

 This scene shows Anne Bullen engaged in conversation with an old lady. They are discussing the Queens upcoming divorce. Anne says that a life of humble content is preferable to one where one has a high status but sullied by sorrow. Anne declares that she would never choose to be a queen. The old lady is not convinced, she believes that Anne, like any woman, would lie glad to accept any honors bestowed on her. Lord Chamberlain arrives with the news that the King has made Anne the "Marchioness of Pembroke" with a stipend of a thousand pound a year to go with the title. Anne conveys her gratitude to the King for his generosity. In an aside Chamberlain reveals that he approves of Anne and hopes that she will provide Britain with an heir when she becomes the Queen. The Chamberlain departs and shortly after that. The two women leave as well, to comfort the Queen in her hour of need.

