Since which she was removed to Kimbolton,
Where she remains now, sick.

2 Gent.

Alas, good lady![Trumpets.

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

THE ORDER OF THE PROCESSION.

A lively flourish of trumpets; then enter

1. Two Judges.

2. Lord Chancellor, with the purse and mace before

him.

3. Choristers, singing.

[Music. 4. Mayor of London, bearing the mace. Then Garter in his coat of arms, aud, on his head, a gilt copper

crown.

5 Marquis 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. 6. 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. 7. A canopy borne by four of the Cinque-ports; under it, the Queen in her robe; in her hair richly adorned wi h pearl, crowned. On each side of her, the Bishops of London and Winchester.

8. The old Duchess of Norfolk, in a coronal of gold, wrought with flowers, bearing the Queen's train. 9. Certain Ladies or Countesses, with plain circlets of gold wi hout flowers.

2 Gent. A royal train, believe me.-These I

know ;

Who's that that bears the sceptre ?

I Gent.

Marquis Dorset :

And that the earl of Surrey, with the rod.

2 Gent. A bold brave gentleman. That should

be

The due of Suffolk.

I Gent.

"Tis the same; high-steward.

2 Gent. And that my lord of Norfolk? I Gent.

Yes.

2 Gent. [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.

I Gent.

They that bear

The cloth of honour over her, are four barons

Of the Cinque-ports.

2 Gent. 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.

1 Gent. It is; and all the rest are countesses. 2 Gent. Their coronets say so.

stars, indeed;

And, sometimes, falling ones.

I Gent.

These are

No more of that.

[Exit Procession, with a great flourish of trumpets.

Enter a third Gentleman.

God save you, sir! Where have you been broiling? 3 Gent. Among the crowd i' the abbey; where

a finger

Could not be wedged in more; I am stifled
With the mere rankness of their joy.

2 Gent. You saw the ceremony?

3 Gent. That I did.

I Gent. How was it?

Gent. Well worth the seeing.

2 Gent. Good sir, speak it to us.

VOL. VIII.

22

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

A distance from her; while her grace sat down
To rest a while, 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 godliest 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 them reel before them. No man living
Could say This is my wife, there; all were woven
So strangely in one piece.

2 Gent.

But, what follow'd? 3 Gent. At length her grace rose, and with

modest paces

Came to the altar: where she kneel'd, and, saint

like,

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 paced back again
To York-place, where the feast is held.

Your must no more call it York-place, that is past; For, since the cardinal fell, that title's lost;

'Tis now the king's, and call'd Whitehall.

3 Gent.

I know it;

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

2 Gent.

What two reverend bishops

Were those that went on each side of the queen? 3 Gent. Stokesly and Gardiner; the one, of Winchester,

(Newly preferr'd from the king's secretary,) The other, London.

2 Gent.

He of Winchester

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

3. Gent.

All the land knows that:

However, yet there is no great breach; when it

comes,

Cranmer will find a friend will not shrink from

him.

2 Gent. Who may that be, I pray you?

3 Gent.

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.

2 Gent. He will deserve more.

3 Gent. Yes, without all doubt.Come, gentlemen, ye shall go my way, which Is to the court, and there ye shall be my guests: 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.

Grif. How does your grace?

Kath. O, Griffith, sick to death! My legs, like loaded branches, bow to the earth, Willing to leave their burden. Reach a chair;— So, now, methinks, I feel a little ease.

Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou ledd'st

me,

That the great child of honour, cardinal Wolsey, Was dead?

Grif.

Yes, madam; but I think your grace, Out of the pain you suffer'd, gave no ear to't. Kath. Pr'ythee, good Griffith, tell me how he

died;

If well, he stepp'd before me, happily,

For my example.

Grif.

Well, the voice goes, madam:

For after the stout earl of 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.

Kath.

Alas, poor man !

Grif. At last, with easy roads, he came to
Leicester,

Lodged in the abbey; where the reverend abbot,
With all his convent, honourably received him ;
To whom he gave these words,-O father abbot,
An old man, broken down with the storms of state,
Is come to lay his weary bones among ye;
Give him a little earth for charity!