Act 4 - Scene 2
Kimbolton.
Enter KATHARINE, Dowager, sick; led between GRIFFITH, her gentleman usher, and PATIENCE, her
woman GRIFFITH
How does your grace? KATHARINE
O Griffith, sick to death! My legs, like loaden branches, bow to the earth, Willing to leave their burthen.
Reach a chair: So; now, methinks, I feel a little ease. Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou led'st me, That
the great child of honour, Cardinal Wolsey, Was dead? GRIFFITH
Yes, madam; but I think your grace, Out of the pain you suffer'd, gave no ear to't. KATHARINE
Prithee, good Griffith, tell me how he died: If well, he stepp'd before me, happily For my example. GRIFFITH
Well, the voice goes, madam: For after the stout Earl Northumberland Arrested him at York, and brought
him forward, As a man sorely tainted, to his answer, He fell sick suddenly, and grew so ill He could not sit
his mule. KATHARINE
Alas, poor man! GRIFFITH
At last, with easy roads, he came to Leicester, Lodged in the abbey; where the reverend abbot, With all
his covent, honourably received him; To whom he gave these words, 'O, father abbot, An old man, broken
with the storms of state, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye; Give him a little earth for charity!' So
went to bed; where eagerly his sickness Pursued him still: and, three nights after this, About the hour of
eight, which he himself Foretold should be his last, full of repentance, Continual meditations, tears, and
sorrows, He gave his honours to the world again, His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace. KATHARINE
So may he rest; his faults lie gently on him! Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak him, And yet with
charity. He was a man Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking Himself with princes; one that, by suggestion, Tied
all the kingdom: simony was fair-play; His own opinion was his law: i' the presence He would say untruths; and
be ever double Both in his words and meaning: he was never, But where he meant to ruin, pitiful: His promises
were, as he then was, mighty; But his performance, as he is now, nothing: Of his own body he was ill,
and gave The clergy in example. GRIFFITH
Noble madam, Men's evil manners live in brass; their virtues We write in water. May it please your highness To
hear me speak his good now?
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