_Third Gent._ At length her grace rose, and with modest paces Came to the altar, where she kneel'd and saintlike Cast her fair eyes to heaven and pray'd devoutly; Then rose again and bow'd her to the people; 85 When by the Archbishop of Canterbury She had all the royal makings of a queen,[672] As holy oil, Edward Confessor's crown, The rod, and bird of peace, and all such emblems Laid nobly on her: which perform'd, the choir, 90 With all the choicest music of the kingdom, Together sung 'Te Deum.' So she parted, And with the same full state paced back again To York-place, where the feast is held. _First Gent._ Sir,[673] You must no more call it York-place; that's past;[673] 95 For, since the cardinal fell, that title's lost: 'Tis now the king's, and call'd Whitehall. _Third Gent._ I know it; But 'tis so lately alter'd that the old name[674] Is fresh about me. _Sec. Gent._ What two reverend bishops Were those that went on each side of the queen? 100 _Third Gent._ Stokesly and Gardiner; the one of Winchester,[675] Newly preferr'd from the king's secretary, The other, London. _Sec. Gent._ He of Winchester Is held no great good lover of the archbishop's,[676] The virtuous Cranmer. _Third Gent._ All the land knows that: 105 However, yet there is no great breach; when it comes,[677] Cranmer will find a friend will not shrink from him. _Sec. Gent._ Who may that be, I pray you? _Third Gent._ Thomas Cromwell;[678] A man in much esteem with the king, and truly[678] A worthy friend. The king has made him master[678][679][680] 110 O' the jewel house,[678][679][681] And one, already, of the privy council.[679][681] _Sec. Gent._ He will deserve more.[681] _Third Gent._ Yes, without all doubt.[681] Come, gentlemen, ye shall go my way,[682][683] Which is to the court, and there ye shall be my guests:[682][684] 115 Something I can command. As I walk thither, I'll tell ye more. _Both._ You may command us, sir. [_Exeunt._ SCENE II. _Kimbolton._ _Enter_ KATHARINE, _Dowager, sick; led between_ GRIFFITH, _her Gentleman Usher, and_ PATIENCE, _her woman_. _Grif._ How does your grace? _Kath._ O Griffith, sick to death! My legs, like loaden branches, bow to the earth,[685] Willing to leave their burthen. Reach a chair. So; now, methinks, I feel a little ease.[686] Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou led'st me,[687] 5 That the great child of honour, Cardinal Wolsey, Was dead?[688]