QUEEN KATHERINE.
[Aside.] To betray me.
My lords, I thank you both for your good wills.
Ye speak like honest men; pray God ye prove so.
But how to make ye suddenly an answer
In such a point of weight, so near mine honour—
More near my life, I fear—with my weak wit,
And to such men of gravity and learning,
In truth I know not. I was set at work
Among my maids, full little, God knows, looking
Either for such men or such business.
For her sake that I have been—for I feel
The last fit of my greatness—good your Graces,
Let me have time and counsel for my cause.
Alas, I am a woman friendless, hopeless.
WOLSEY.
Madam, you wrong the King’s love with these fears;
Your hopes and friends are infinite.
QUEEN KATHERINE.
In England
But little for my profit. Can you think, lords,
That any Englishman dare give me counsel?
Or be a known friend, ’gainst his Highness’ pleasure,
Though he be grown so desperate to be honest,
And live a subject? Nay, forsooth, my friends,
They that much weigh out my afflictions,
They that my trust must grow to, live not here.
They are, as all my other comforts, far hence
In mine own country, lords.
CAMPEIUS.
I would your Grace
Would leave your griefs and take my counsel.
QUEEN KATHERINE.
How, sir?
CAMPEIUS.
Put your main cause into the King’s protection.
He’s loving and most gracious. ’Twill be much
Both for your honour better and your cause,
For if the trial of the law o’ertake ye,
You’ll part away disgraced.
WOLSEY.
He tells you rightly.
QUEEN KATHERINE.
Ye tell me what ye wish for both: my ruin.
Is this your Christian counsel? Out upon ye!
Heaven is above all yet; there sits a judge
That no king can corrupt.
CAMPEIUS.
Your rage mistakes us.
QUEEN KATHERINE.
The more shame for ye! Holy men I thought ye,
Upon my soul, two reverend cardinal virtues;
But cardinal sins and hollow hearts I fear ye.
Mend ’em, for shame, my lords. Is this your comfort,
The cordial that ye bring a wretched lady,
A woman lost among ye, laughed at, scorned?
I will not wish ye half my miseries;
I have more charity. But say I warned ye.
Take heed, for heaven’s sake, take heed, lest at once
The burden of my sorrows fall upon ye.