Why so didst thou

Seem they religious? Such and so finely bolted didst thou seem; And thus thy fall hath left a kind of blot To mark the full-fraught man and best indued With some suspicion. I will weep for thee; For this revolt of thine, methinks, is like Another fall of man. Their faults are open. Arrest them to the answer of the law; And God acquit them of their practices!

All rights reserved. Why, so didst thou: or are they spare in diet, Free from gross passion or of mirth or anger, Constant in spirit, not swerving with the blood, Garnish'd and deck'd in modest complement, Not working with the eye without the ear, And but in purged judgment trusting neither? Such and so finely bolted didst thou seem: And thus thy fall hath left a kind of blot, To mark the full-fraught man and best indued With some suspicion.

I will weep for thee; For this revolt of thine, methinks, is like Another fall of man. Their faults are open: Arrest them to the answer of the law; And God acquit them of their practises! I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Richard Earl of Cambridge. I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Henry Lord Scroop of Masham.

I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Thomas Grey, knight, of Northumberland. Our purposes God justly hath discover'd; And I repent my fault more than my death; Which I beseech your highness to forgive, Although my body pay the price of it.

For me, the gold of France did not seduce; Although I did admit it as a motive The sooner to effect what I intended: But God be thanked for prevention; Which I in sufferance heartily will rejoice, Beseeching God and you to pardon me.

Never did faithful subject more rejoice At the discovery of most dangerous treason Than I do at this hour joy o'er myself. Prevented from a damned enterprise: My fault, but not my body, pardon, sovereign.

God quit you in his mercy! Hear your sentence. You have conspired against our royal person, Join'd with an enemy proclaim'd and from his coffers Received the golden earnest of our death; Wherein you would have sold your king to slaughter, His princes and his peers to servitude, His subjects to oppression and contempt And his whole kingdom into desolation.

Touching our person seek we no revenge; But we our kingdom's safety must so tender, Whose ruin you have sought, that to her laws We do deliver you. Get you therefore hence, Poor miserable wretches, to your death: The taste whereof, God of his mercy give You patience to endure, and true repentance Of all your dear offences! Bear them hence. We doubt not now But every rub is smoothed on our way. Cheerly to sea; the signs of war advance: No king of England, if not king of France.

All texts are in the public domain and be used freely for any purpose. Privacy policy. Act II, Scene 2 Southampton. A council-chamber. Previous scene. She wants to understand what she saw, so she tells her dream to her servants. They are harsh and heavy to me. Music ceases. How long her face is drawn? How pale she looks, And of an earthy cold? Mark her eyes. Pray, pray. Griffith says he's happy Katherine is seeing such good dreams. Katherine orders the music to stop and questions what she saw.

Then Griffith tells another servant named Patience that seeing such wild apparitions is a bad sign. Katherine must not have long to live. Go to. My haste made me unmannerly. There is staying A gentleman sent from the King to see you. But I pray you, What is your pleasure with me? Just then, a messenger brings news of Capuchius's arrival. He's an ambassador from Spain, and he asks after Katherine's health for her dad.

Katherine reports that she's weak but comforted by prayers. Then she remembers that she wrote a letter to Henry, and she asks Capuchius to deliver it to him. That gentle physic given in time had cured me. How does his Highness? My next poor petition Is that his noble Grace would have some pity Upon my wretched women, that so long Have followed both my fortunes faithfully, Of which there is not one, I dare avow— And now I should not lie—but will deserve, For virtue and true beauty of the soul, For honesty and decent carriage, A right good husband.

If heaven had pleased to have given me longer life And able means, we had not parted thus. These are the whole contents. When Capuchius agrees, Katherine tells us what the letter says: she wants Henry to care for their daughter and her servants, even though he has remarried. Remember me In all humility unto his Highness. Say his long trouble now is passing Out of this world. Tell him in death I blessed him, For so I will. Mine eyes grow dim.

Farewell, My lord. I must to bed; Call in more women. When I am dead, good wench, Let me be used with honor. Strew me over With maiden flowers, that all the world may know I was a chaste wife to my grave. Embalm me, Then lay me forth.