[Music ceases.]
PATIENCE.
Do you note
How much her Grace is altered on the sudden?
How long her face is drawn? How pale she looks,
And of an earthly cold? Mark her eyes.
GRIFFITH.
She is going, wench. Pray, pray.
PATIENCE.
Heaven comfort her!
Enter a Messenger.
MESSENGER.
An’t like your Grace—
QUEEN KATHERINE.
You are a saucy fellow.
Deserve we no more reverence?
GRIFFITH.
You are to blame,
Knowing she will not lose her wonted greatness,
To use so rude behaviour. Go to, kneel.
MESSENGER.
I humbly do entreat your Highness’ pardon.
My haste made me unmannerly. There is staying
A gentleman sent from the King to see you.
QUEEN KATHERINE.
Admit him entrance, Griffith. But this fellow
Let me ne’er see again.