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Anne. O'God's Will, much better

She ne'er had known Pomp; though't be temporal,
Yet if that quarrel, Fortune, do divorce

It from the bearer, 'tis a fufferance, panging

As Soul and Body's fevering.

Old L. Alas, poor Lady,
She's Stranger now again.

Anne. So much the more
Muft pity drop upon her, verily
I fwear 'tis better to be lowly born,
And range with humble livers in Content,
Than to be perk'd up in a glist'ring Grief,
And wear a golden Sorrow.

Old L. Our Content

Is our best having.

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

Old L. Befhrew me, I would,

And venture Maidenhead for't, and fo would you
For all this fpice of your Hypocrifie;

You that have fo fair parts of Woman on you,
Have, too, a Woman's Heart, which ever yet
Affected Eminence, Wealth, Sovereignty;
Which, to fay footh, are Bleffings; and which Gifts
(Saving your mincing) the Capacity

Of your foft Chiverel Confcience would receive,
you might please to stretch it.


Anne. Nay, good troth

Old L. Yes, troth and troth; you would not be a Queen? Anne. No, not for all the Riches under Heav'n.

Old L. 'Tis ftrange; a three-pence bow'd now would hire


Old as I am, to Queen it; but I pray you,

What think you of a Dutchefs? have you Limbs
To bear that load of Title?

Anne. No, in truth.

Old L. Then you are weakly made, pluck off a little, I would not be a young Count in your way,

your Back

For more than blufhing comes to : If
Cannot vouchsafe this burthen, 'tis too weak
Ever to get a Boy.

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Anne. How do you talk!

I fwear again, I would not be a Queen
For all the World.

Old L. In faith for little England
You'll venture an emballing: I my felf

Would for Carnarvan fhire, although there long'd
No more to th'Crown but that. Lo, who comes here?
Enter Lord Chamberlain.

Cham. Good morrow, Ladies; what wer't worth to know The fecret of your Conference?

Anne. My good Lord,

Not your demand; it values not your asking:
Our Mistress Sorrows we were pitying.

Cham. It was a gentle Bufinefs, and becoming
The action of good Women, there is hope
All will be well.

Anne. Now I pray God, Amen.

Cham. You bear a gentle Mind, and heavenly Bleffings
Follow fuch Creatures. That you may, fair Lady,
Perceive I fpeak fincerely, and high Notes

Ta'en of your many Virtues; the King's Majefty
Commends his good Opinion of you, to you; and
Does purpose Honour to you no less flowing
Than Marchionefs of Pembrook; to which Title
A thousand pound a year, Annual fupport,
Out of his Grace, he adds.

Anne. I do not know

What kind of Obedience, I should tender;

More than my All, is nothing: Nor my Prayers
Are not Words duly hallowed, nor my Wishes

More worth than empty Vanities; yet Prayers and Wishes
Are all I can return. Befeech your Lordship,
Vouchsafe to speak my Thanks, and my Obedience,
As from a blushing Handmaid to his Highness;
Whofe Health and Royalty I pray for.

Cham. Lady;

I fhall not fail t'approve the fair conceit

The King hath of you. I have perus'd her well,
Beauty and Honour in her are fo mingled,

That they have caught the King; and who knows yet
But fom this Lady may proceed a Gem,


To lighten all this Ifle? I'll to the King,

And fay I fpoke with you.
Anne. My honour'd Lord.

[Exit Chamberlain.

Old L. Why this it is: See, fee,
I have been begging fixteen Years in Court
(Am yet a Courtier beggarly) nor could
Come pat betwixt too early, and too late
For any fuit of Pounds; and you, oh fate,
A very fresh Fish here; fie, fie, fie upon

This compell'd fortune, have your Mouth fill'd up,
Before you open it.

Anne. This is ftrange to me.

Old L. How taftes it? Is it bitter? Forty Pence, no: There was an old Lady once (tis an old Story) That would not be a Queen, that would fhe not, For all the mud in Egypt; have you heard it? Anne. Come, you are pleasant.

Old L. With your Theme, I could

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O'er-mount the Lark; the Marchionefs of Pembrook?
A thousand pounds a year, for pure refpe&?

No other Obligation? But my Life,

That promifes more thousands: Honour's train
Is longer than his Fore-skiit; by this time

I know your Back will bear a Dutchefs. Say,
Are you not ftronger than you were?

Anne. Good Lady,

Make your felf Mirth with your particular Fancy,
And leave me out on't. Would I had no being,
If this falute my Blood a jot; it faints me

To think what follows.

The Queen is comfortlefs, and we forgetful

In our long abfence; pray do not deliver,
What here y'ave heard to her.

Old L. What do you think me



Trumpe's, Sonnet, and Cornets. Enter two Vergers, with fbor Silver Wands; next them two Scribes in the babits of Doctors: After them, the Bishop of Canterbury alone; after him, the Bifhops of Lincoln, Ely, Rochester,and St.Alaph'; next them,



with some small diftance, follows a Gentleman bearing the Purfe, with the great Seal, and a Cardinal's Hat; then two Priests, bearing each a Silver Cross; then a Gentleman-V sber bare-headed, accompanied with a Serjeant at Arms, bearing a Mace; then two Gentlemen, bearing two Silver Pillars; after them, fide by side, the two Cardinals, two Noblemen with the Sword and Mace. The King takes place under the Cloth of State; the two Cardinals fit under him as Judges. The Queen takes place fome distance from the King. The BiShops place themselves on each fide the Court in manner of a Confiftory: Below them, the Scribes. The Lords fit next the Bishops. The rest of the Attendants ftand in convenient order about the Stage. !

Wol. Whilft our Commiffion from Rome is read, Let filence be commanded.

King. What's the need?

It hath already publickly been read,

And on all fides th' Authority allow'd,

You may then fpare that time.

Wol. Be't fo, proceed.

Scribe. Say, Henry King of England, come into the Court,
Cryer. Henry King of England, &c.

King. Here.

Scribe. Say, Katherine Queen of England, Come into the Court.

Cryer. Katherine, Queen of England, &c.

The Queen makes no answer, rifes out of her Chair, goes about the Court, comes to the King, and kneels at his Feet; ther Speaks;

Sir, I defire you to do me Right and Justice,
And to beftow 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 affurance
Of equal Friendship and Proceeding. Alas, Sir,
In what have I offended you? What cause
Hath my behaviour given to your difpleafure,
That thus you should proceed to put me off,
And take your good Grace from me? Heav'n witnefs,
I have been to you a true and humble Wife,

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At all times to your Will conformable:
Ever in fear to kindle your dislike,

Yea, fubject to your Countenance; glad, or forry,
As I faw it inclin'd? when was the hour

I ever contradicted your Defire?

Or made it not mine too? Or which of your Friends
Have I not ftrove to Love, although I knew
He were mine Enemy? What Friend of mine,
That had to him deriv'd your Anger, did I
Continue in my liking? nay, gave notice.
He was from thence difcharg'd? Sir, call to mind,
That I have been your Wife, in this Obedience,
Upward of twenty Years, and have been bleft
With many Children by you. If in the courfe
And procefs of this time you can report,
And prove it too, against mine Honour ought,
My bond of Wedlock, or my Love and Duty
Against your Sacred Perfon; in God's name
Turn me away; and let foul'st Contempt
Shut door upon me, and fo give me up
To the fharp'ft kind of Juftice. Please you, Sir,
The King, your Father, was reputed for
A Prince most prudent, and an excellent
And unmatch'd Wit and Judgment. Ferdinand
My Father, King of Spain, was reckon❜d one
The wifeft Prince, that there had reign'd, by many
A year before. It is not to be queftion'd,
That they had gather'd a wife Council to them
Of every Realm, that did debate this Bufinefs,
Who deem'd our Marriage lawful.Wherefore I humbly
Befeech you, Sir, to fpare me, 'till I may

Be by my Friends in Spain advis'd; whofe Counsel
I will implore. If not, i'th' name of God
Your pleasure be fulfill'd.

Wel. You have here, Lady,

(And of your choice) thefe Reverend Fathers, Men Of fingular Integrity and Learning:

Yea, the elect o'th' Land, who are affembled

To plead your Caufe. It fhall be therefore bootlefs,
That longer you defer the Court, as well


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