Back to main page
Henry VIII - Act 2, scene 3
Download Henry VIII
Last updated: Fri, Jul 31, 2015
- PDF Download as PDF
- DOC (for MS Word, Apple Pages, Open Office, etc.) without line numbers Download as DOC (for MS Word, Apple Pages, Open Office, etc.) without line numbers
- DOC (for MS Word, Apple Pages, Open Office, etc.) with line numbers Download as DOC (for MS Word, Apple Pages, Open Office, etc.) with line numbers
- HTML Download as HTML
- TXT Download as TXT
- XML Download as XML
- TEISimple XML (annotated with MorphAdorner for part-of-speech analysis) Download as TEISimple XML (annotated with MorphAdorner for part-of-speech analysis)
Navigate this workHenry VIII - Act 2, scene 3
Act 2, scene 3
Anne Bullen pities Katherine, now threatened with divorce. The Lord Chamberlain enters to announce that Henry has created Anne marchioness of Pembroke.Enter Anne Bullen and an old Lady.
1143 Not for that neither. Here’s the pang that pinches:
1144 His Highness having lived so long with her, and she
1145 So good a lady that no tongue could ever
1146 Pronounce dishonor of her—by my life,
1147 5 She never knew harm-doing!—O, now, after
1148 So many courses of the sun enthroned,
1149 Still growing in a majesty and pomp, the which
1150 To leave a thousandfold more bitter than
1151 ’Tis sweet at first t’ acquire—after this process,
1152 10 To give her the avaunt! It is a pity
1153 Would move a monster.
OLD LADY 1154 Hearts of most hard temper
1155 Melt and lament for her.
ANNE 1156 O, God’s will! Much better
1157 15 She ne’er had known pomp; though ’t be temporal,
1158 Yet if that quarrel, Fortune, do divorce
1159 It from the bearer, ’tis a sufferance panging
1160 As soul and body’s severing.
OLD LADY 1161 Alas, poor lady,
1162 20 She’s a stranger now again!
p. 87ANNE 1163 So much the more
1164 Must pity drop upon her. Verily,
1165 I swear, ’tis better to be lowly born
1166 And range with humble livers in content
1167 25 Than to be perked up in a glist’ring grief
1168 And wear a golden sorrow.
OLD LADY 1169 Our content
1170 Is our best having.
ANNE 1171 By my troth and maidenhead,
1172 30 I would not be a queen.
OLD LADY 1173 Beshrew me, I would,
1174 And venture maidenhead for ’t; and so would you,
1175 For all this spice of your hypocrisy.
1176 You, that have so fair parts of woman on you,
1177 35 Have too a woman’s heart, which ever yet
1178 Affected eminence, wealth, sovereignty;
1179 Which, to say sooth, are blessings; and which gifts,
1180 Saving your mincing, the capacity
1181 Of your soft cheveril conscience would receive
1182 40 If you might please to stretch it.
ANNE 1183 Nay, good troth.
1184 Yes, troth, and troth. You would not be a queen?
1185 No, not for all the riches under heaven.
1186 ’Tis strange. A threepence bowed would hire me,
1187 45 Old as I am, to queen it. But I pray you,
1188 What think you of a duchess? Have you limbs
1189 To bear that load of title?
ANNE 1190 No, in truth.
1191 Then you are weakly made. Pluck off a little.
1192 50 I would not be a young count in your way
1193 For more than blushing comes to. If your back
p. 891194 Cannot vouchsafe this burden, ’tis too weak
1195 Ever to get a boy.
ANNE 1196 How you do talk!
1197 55 I swear again, I would not be a queen
1198 For all the world.
OLD LADY 1199 In faith, for little England
1200 You’d venture an emballing. I myself
1201 Would for Carnarvanshire, although there longed
1202 60 No more to th’ crown but that. Lo, who comes here?
Enter Lord Chamberlain.
1203 Good morrow, ladies. What were ’t worth to know
1204 The secret of your conference?
ANNE 1205 My good lord,
1206 Not your demand; it values not your asking.
1207 65 Our mistress’ sorrows we were pitying.
1208 It was a gentle business, and becoming
1209 The action of good women. There is hope
1210 All will be well.
ANNE 1211 Now, I pray God, amen!
1212 70 You bear a gentle mind, and heav’nly blessings
1213 Follow such creatures. That you may, fair lady,
1214 Perceive I speak sincerely, and high note’s
1215 Ta’en of your many virtues, the King’s Majesty
1216 Commends his good opinion of you to you, and
1217 75 Does purpose honor to you no less flowing
1218 Than Marchioness of Pembroke, to which title
1219 A thousand pound a year annual support
1220 Out of his grace he adds.
ANNE 1221 I do not know
1222 80 What kind of my obedience I should tender.
1223 More than my all is nothing, nor my prayers
1224 Are not words duly hallowed, nor my wishes
p. 911225 More worth than empty vanities. Yet prayers and
1227 85 Are all I can return. ’Beseech your Lordship,
1228 Vouchsafe to speak my thanks and my obedience,
1229 As from a blushing handmaid, to his Highness,
1230 Whose health and royalty I pray for.
CHAMBERLAIN 1231 Lady,
1232 90 I shall not fail t’ approve the fair conceit
1233 The King hath of you. (⌜Aside.⌝) I have perused her
1235 Beauty and honor in her are so mingled
1236 That they have caught the King. And who knows yet
1237 95 But from this lady may proceed a gem
1238 To lighten all this isle?—I’ll to the King
1239 And say I spoke with you.
ANNE 1240 My honored lord.
Lord Chamberlain exits.
OLD LADY 1241 Why, this it is! See, see!
1242 100 I have been begging sixteen years in court,
1243 Am yet a courtier beggarly, nor could
1244 Come pat betwixt too early and too late
1245 For any suit of pounds; and you—O, fate!—
1246 A very fresh fish here—fie, fie, fie upon
1247 105 This compelled fortune!—have your mouth filled up
1248 Before you open it.
ANNE 1249 This is strange to me.
1250 How tastes it? Is it bitter? Forty pence, no.
1251 There was a lady once—’tis an old story—
1252 110 That would not be a queen, that would she not,
1253 For all the mud in Egypt. Have you heard it?
1254 Come, you are pleasant.
OLD LADY 1255 With your theme, I could
1256 O’ermount the lark. The Marchioness of Pembroke?
1257 115 A thousand pounds a year for pure respect?
1258 No other obligation? By my life,
p. 931259 That promises more thousands; honor’s train
1260 Is longer than his foreskirt. By this time
1261 I know your back will bear a duchess. Say,
1262 120 Are you not stronger than you were?
ANNE 1263 Good lady,
1264 Make yourself mirth with your particular fancy,
1265 And leave me out on ’t. Would I had no being
1266 If this salute my blood a jot. It faints me
1267 125 To think what follows.
1268 The Queen is comfortless and we forgetful
1269 In our long absence. Pray do not deliver
1270 What here you’ve heard to her.
OLD LADY 1271 What do you think me?