Held a late court at Dunstable, six miles off
From Ampthill, where the princess lay; to which
She was often cited by them, but appear'd not:
And, to be short, for not appearance and
The king's late scruple, by the main assent
Of all these learned men she was divorc'd,
And the late marriage made of none effect:
Since which she was removed to Kimbolton,
Where she remains now sick.
SECOND GENTLEMAN.

(Hautboys.)

The trumpets sound: stand close, the queen is coming.

(The Order of the Coronation.)

1. A lively Flourish of Trumpets.

2. Then two Judges.

3. Lord Chancellor, with purse and mace before him. 4. Choristers, singing.

(Music.) 5. Mayor of London, bearing the mace. Then Garter, in his coat of arms, and on his head he wears a gilt copper

crown.

6. Marquess Dorset, bearing a sceptre of gold, on his head a demi-coronal of gold. With him, the Earl of Surrey, bearing the rod of silver with the dove, crowned with an earl's coronet. Collars of SS.

7. Duke of Suffolk, in his robe of estate, his coronet on his head, bearing a long white wand, as high-steward. With him, the Duke of Norfolk, with the rod of marshalship, a coronet on his head. Collars of SS.

8. A canopy borne by four of the Cinque-ports; under it, the Queen in her robe; in her hair richly adorned with pearl, crowned. On each side her, the Bishops of London and Winchester.

9. The old Duchess of Norfolk, in a coronal of gold, wrought with flowers, bearing the Queen's train.

10. Certain Ladies or Countesses, with plain circlets of gold without flowers.

(They pass over the stage in order & state.) SECOND GENTLEMAN.

A royal train, believe me. These I know:
Who's that that bears the sceptre?

FIRST GENTLEMAN.

Marquess Dorset:
And that the Earl of Surrey, with the rod.
SECOND GENTLEMAN.

A bold brave gentleman. That should be
The Duke of Suffolk?

FIRST GENTLEMAN.

'Tis the same: high-steward.

SECOND GENTLEMAN.

And that my Lord of Norfolk?

FIRST GENTLEMAN.

Yes.

SECOND GENTLEMAN.(Looking on the Queen.)

Heaven bless thee!

Thou hast the sweetest face I ever look'd on.

Sir, as I have a soul, she is an angel;

Our king has all the Indies in his arms,

And more and richer, when he strains that lady:

I cannot blame his conscience.

FIRST GENTLEMAN.

They that bear

The cloth of honour over her, are four barons
Of the Cinque-ports.

SECOND GENTLEMAN.

Those men are happy; and so are all are near her.

I take it, she that carries up the train

Is that old noble lady, Duchess of Norfolk.

FIRST GENTLEMAN.

It is; and all the rest are countesses.

SECOND GENTLEMAN.

Their coronets say so. These are stars indeed,
And sometimes falling ones.

FIRST GENTLEMAN.

No more of that.

(Exit procession; & then a great flourish of trumpets.)

(Enter a third Gentleman.)

God save you, sir! where have you been broiling?

THIRD GENTLEMAN.

Among the crowd i' the abbey; where a finger

Could not be wedg'd in more: I am stifled

With the mere rankness of their joy.

Good sir, speak it to us.

THIRD GENTLEMAN.

As well as I am able. The rich stream
Of lords and ladies, having brought the queen
To a prepar'd place in the choir, fell off

A distance from her; while her grace sate down
To rest awhile, some half an hour or so,
In a rich chair of state, opposing freely
The beauty of her person to the people.
Believe me, sir, she is the goodliest woman
That ever lay by man: which when the people
Had the full view of, such a noise arose
As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest,
As loud and to as many tunes: hats, cloaks
(Doublets, I think), flew up; and had their faces
Been loose, this day they had been lost. Such joy
I never saw before. Great-bellied women,
That had not half a week to go, like rams
In the old time of war, would shake the press,
And make 'em reel before 'em. No man living
Could say 'This is my wife' there, all were woven
So strangely in one piece.
SECOND GENTLEMAN.

THIRD GENTLEMAN.

But what follow'd?

At length her grace rose, and with modest paces
Came to the altar, where she kneel'd and saintlike
Cast her fair eyes to heaven and pray'd devoutly;
Then rose again and bow'd her to the people;
When by the Archbishop of Canterbury
She had all the royal makings of a queen,
As holy oil, Edward Confessor's crown,

The rod, and bird of peace, and all such emblems
Laid nobly on her: which perform'd, the choir,

With all the choicest music of the kingdom, Together sung 'Te Deum.' So she parted, And with the same full state pac'd back again To York-place, where the feast is held. FIRST GENTLEMAN.

Sir,

You must no more call it York-place; that's past;
For, since the cardinal fell, that title's lost:
'Tis now the king's, and call'd Whitehall.
THIRD GENTLEMAN.

But 'tis so lately alter'd, that the old name
Is fresh about me.

SECOND GENTLEMAN.

I know it;

What two reverend bishops

Were those that went on each side of the queen?
THIRD GENTLEMAN.

Stokesly and Gardiner; the one of Winchester,
Newly preferr'd from the king's secretary,

The other, London.

SECOND GENTLEMAN.

He of Winchester

Is held no great good lover of the archbishop's,
The virtuous Cranmer.

THIRD GENTLEMAN.

All the land knows that:

However, yet there's no great breach; when it comes, Cranmer will find a friend will not shrink from him.

SECOND GENTLEMAN.

Who may that be, I pray you?

THIRD GENTLEMAN.

Thomas Cromwell;

A man in much esteem with the king, and truly

A worthy friend. The king has made him master

O' the jewel house,

And one, already, of the privy council.

SECOND GENTLEMAN.

He will deserve more.

THIRD GENTLEMAN.

Yes, without all doubt,

Come, gentlemen, ye shall go my way,

my guests:

Which is to the court, and there ye shall be
Something I can command. As I walk thither,
I'll tell ye more.

BOTH.

You may command us, sir. (Exeunt.)

SCENE II. Kimbolton. Enter Katharine, Dowager, sick; led between Griffith, her Gentleman Usher, and Patience, her woman.

GRIFFITH.

How does your grace?

KATHARINE.

O Griffith, sick to death!

My legs, like loaden branches, bow to the earth,
Willing to leave their burthen. Reach a chair.
So; now, methinks, I feel a little ease.

Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou led 'st me,
That the great child of honour, Cardinal Wolsey,
Was dead?

GRIFFITH.

Yes, madam; but I think your grace,
Out of the pain you suffer'd, gave no ear to 't.
KATHARINE.

Prithee, good Griffith, tell me how he died:
If well, he stepp'd before me, happily,
For my example.

GRIFFITH.

Well, the voice goes, madam:

For after the stout Earl Northumberland

Arrested him at York, and brought him forward,

As a man sorely tainted, to his answer,

He fell sick suddenly, and grew so ill

He could not sit his mule.

KATHARINE.

GRIFFITH.

Alas, poor man!

At last, with easy roads, he came to Leicester,
Lodg'd in the abbey; where the reverend abbot,
With all his covent, honourably receiv'd him;
To whom he gave these words, 'O father abbot,
An old man, broken with the storms of state,
Is come to lay his weary bones among ye;
Give him a little earth for charity!'

So went to bed; where eagerly his sickness
Pursued him still; and three nights after this,
About the hour of eight, which he himself