No More Learning

ANNE. This is strange to me.
OLD LADY. How tastes it? Is it bitter? Forty pence, no.
There was a lady once-'tis an old story-
That would not be a queen, that would she not,
For all the mud in Egypt. Have you heard it?
ANNE. Come, you are pleasant.
OLD LADY. With your theme I could
O'ermount the lark. The Marchioness of Pembroke!
A thousand pounds a year for pure respect!
No other obligation!
By my life,
That promises moe thousands: honour's train
Is longer than his foreskirt. By this time
I know your back will bear a duchess. Say,
Are you not stronger than you were?
ANNE. Good lady,
Make yourself mirth with your particular fancy,
And leave me out on't. Would I had no being,
If this salute my blood a jot; it faints me
To think what follows.
The Queen is comfortless, and we forgetful
In our long absence. Pray, do not deliver
What here y' have heard to her.
OLD LADY. What do you think me? Exeunt




ACT II. SCENE 4.

London. A hall in Blackfriars

Trumpets, sennet, and cornets. Enter two VERGERS, with short silver wands;
next them, two SCRIBES, in the habit of doctors; after them,
the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY alone; after him, the BISHOPS OF LINCOLN, ELY,
ROCHESTER, and SAINT ASAPH; next them, with some small distance,
follows a GENTLEMAN bearing the purse, with the great seal,
and a Cardinal's hat; then two PRIESTS, bearing each silver cross;
then a GENTLEMAN USHER bareheaded, accompanied with a SERGEANT-AT-ARMS
bearing a silver mace; then two GENTLEMEN bearing two great silver pillars;
after them, side by side, the two CARDINALS, WOLSEY and CAMPEIUS;
two NOBLEMEN with the sword and mace. Then enter the KING and QUEEN
and their trains.