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vain thoughts and fantasies with the bridle of reasone, I assure you all <he good of this world could not counterpoise for my satisfaction the knowledge and certainty thereof; wherefore, good sweetheart, continue the same not only in this, but in all your doings hereafter, for thereby shall come both to you and me the greatest quictnesse that may be iu this world. The cause why this bearer stayeth so long, is the business that I have had to dresse up geer for you, which I trust ere long to see jou occupye, and then I trust to occupye yours, which shall be ncompencc enough to me for all my pains and labours. The unfayned sickness of this well-willing legate doth somewhat retard his accesse to your person; but I trust veryly, when God shall send him health, he will with diligence recompence his demurre, for J know well where he hath said (lamenting the saying, and brute (Noyse) that he shall be thought imperial) that it shall be well known in this matter, that he is not imperial. And this for lake of tyme farewell. M'ritne with the iand which faine would be jours, and so is the heart


Tiro Letters fram Ann Bokyn, to Cardinal WoUey.*


MY Lord, iu my most humblest wise that my heart can think, I desire you to pardon me that 1 am so bold, to trouble you with my simple and rude writing, esteeming it to proceed from her, that is much desirous to know that your grace does well, as I perceive by this bearer that you do. The which I pray God long to continue, as I am most bound to pray; for I do know the great pains and troubles that you have taken for me, both day and night, is never like to be rccompenced on my part, but alonely in loving you, next unto the king's grace, above all creatures living. And I do not doubt, but the daily proofs of my deeds shall manifestly declare and affirm my writing to -be true, and I -do trust you do think the same. My Lord, 1 do assure you, I do long to hear from you news of the legate4 for 1 do hope, and they come from you, they shall be very good, and I am sure you desire it as much as I, and more, and it were possible, as I know it is not: And thus, remaining in a stedfast hope, 1 make an end of my letter, written with the hand of her that is most bound to he,

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Postscript by King Henry.

THE Writer of this letter would not cease till she had caused me likewise to set to my hand; desiring you, though it be short, to take it in good part. I ensure you, there is neither of us, but that greatly desireth to see you, and much more joyous to hear that you have scaped this plague so well, trusting the fury thereof to be passed, specially with them that keepeth good diet, as I trust you do. The not hearing of the legate's arrival in France, causeth us somewhat to muse ; notwithstanding, we trust by your diligence and vigilancy (with the assistance of Almighty God) shortly to be eased out of that trouble. No more to you at this time; but that I pray God send you as good health and prosperity, as the writer would.

By your

loving Sovereign and friend,
Henry K.

Your humble Servant,


MY Lord, in my most humble wise that my poor heart can think, I do thank your grace for your kind letter, and for your rich and goodly prosent, the which I shall never be able to deserve without your help, of the which I have hitherto had so great plenty, that, all the days of my life, I am most bound, of all creatures, next the King's grace, to love and serve your grace; of the which, I beseech you, never to doubt, that ever 1 shall vary from this thought, as long as any breath is in my body. And, as touching your grace's trouble with the sweat, I thank our Lord, that them that I desired and prayed for are scaped, and that is the King and you; not doubting, but that God has preserved you both for great causes known alonely of his high wisdom. And as for the coming of the legate, I desire that much; and, if it be God's pleasure, I pray him to send this matter shortly to a good end, and then I trust, my lord, to recompence part of your great pains. In the which, I must require you, in the mean time, to accept my good will in the stead of the power, the which must proceed partly from you, as our lord knoweth; to whom I beseech to send you long life, with continuance in honour. Written with the hand of her that is most bound to be

Your humble and

obedient Servant,

ANNE BOLEYN, Queen Anne Boleyn's last Letter to King Henry *.


YOUR grace's displeasure, and my imprisonment, are things so strange unto me, as what to write, or what to excuse, I am altogether ignorant. Whereas you send unto me (willing me to confess a truth, and so obtain your favour) by such an one whom you know to be mine antient professed enemy, I no sooner received this message by him, than I rightly conceived your meaning; and if, as you say, confessing a truth indeed may procure my safety, I shall with all willingness and duty perform your command.

But let not your grace ever imagine that your poor wife will ever be brought to acknowledge a fault, where not so much as a thought thereof preceded. And, to speak a truth, never prince had wife more loyal in all duty, and in all true affection, than you have ever found in Anne Boleyn; with which name and place I could willingly have contented myself, if God and your grace's pleasure had been so pleased. Neither did I at any time so far forget myself in my exaltation, or received queenship, but that I always looked for such an alteration as now I find; for, the ground of my preferment being on no surer foundation than your grace's fancy, the least alteration, I knew, was fit and sufficient to draw that fancy to some other subject. You have chosen me, from a low estate, to be your queen and companion, far beyond my desert or desire. If then you found me worthy of such honour, good your grace let not any light fancy, or bad counsel of mine enemies, withdraw your princely favour from me; neither let that stain, that unworthy stain of a disloyal heart towards your good grace, ever cast so foul a blot on your most dutiful wife, and the infant princess your daughter. Try me, good king; but let me have a lawful trial, and let not my sworn enemies sit as my accusers and judges: yea, let me receive an open trial, for my truth shall fear no open shame; then shall you see, either mine innocency cleared, your suspicion and conscience satisfied, the ignominy and slander of the world stopped, or my guilt openly declared. So that, whatsoever God or you may determine of me, your grace may be freed from an open censure; and mine offence being so lawfully proved, your grace is at liberty, both before God and man, not only to execute worthy punishment on me as an unlawful wife, but to follow your affection already settled on that party, for whose sake I am now as I am, whose name I could some good while since have pointed unto: your grace being not ignorant of my suspicion therein.

But, if you have already determined of me, and that not only my death, but an infamous slander must bring you the enjoying of your desired happiness; then I desire of God, that he will pardon your great sin therein, and likewise mine enemies, the instruments thereof; and that he will not call you to a strict account for your unprincely and

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cruel usage of me, at his general judgment-seat, where both you and myself must shortly appear, and in whose judgment, I doubt not, (whatsoever the world may think of me) mine innocence shall be openly known, and sufficiently cleared.

My last and only request shall be, that my self may only bear the burthen of your grace's displeasure, and that it may not touch the innocent souls of those poor gentlemen, who (as I understand) are likewise in strait imprisonment for my sake. If ever I have found favour in your sight; if ever the name of Anne Bolcyn hath been pleasing in your ears, then let me obtain this request; and I will so leave to trouble your grace any further, with mine earnest prayers to the Trinity to have your grace in his good keeping, and to direct you in all your actions. From my doleful prison in the Tower this sixth of May.

Your most Loyal and ever
Faithful Wife,


Machiavel's Vindication of himself, 4'C see p. 78, «yc.



Openynge the craftye assaultes of the hypocrytes,* with the gloryou#e
Baptyme of the Lord Jesus Christ.


The worde of God came unto Iohan the tonne of Zachary in the wyldernesse. And he resorted into all the coastes about Iordane, and preached the baptyme of repentaunce for the rcmyssyon of synnes. Luce Hi.

John Bale, the compiler of the following Comedy or Interlude, was the son of Henry Bale, of Covie in Suffolk. Born in the year 14Q5; entered among the Carmelite Friars at Norwich, at twelve years old, and went from thence to be *

• Alluding to the Popish priests, friars, &c. who, like the Pharisees and Hypocrite* of old. were d. tcrmined, at all events, to prevent the dawning of thetiosprl, at the beginning of lit Reformation.

* Tie year in which Henry the Eighth declared hit disgust with the see of Rome.

•ctiollar at Jesus College in Cambridge, still remaining, as he himself declares, in the most profound ignorance of all true learning, and greatest blindness of mind, without any tutor or patron, till the word of God began to appear in its proper lustre, and the churches were brought back to the pure fountains of •II divinity; and then, by the means of the most noble the Lord Wentworth, he was induced to leave the monstrous corruptions of Popery, and to embrace the purity of the Gospel. Soon after his conversion, he married his wife Dorothy, who also was zealous for the true religion; but he had been utterly undone by Dr. Lee Archbishop of York, and Stokley Bishop of London, had not my Lord Cromwell screened him from their persecutions; after whose death he retired to the Low Countries; from whence he was recalled by Edward the Sixth, who made him Bishop of Ossory in Ireland, Feb. 3, 1553. But, before he had been consecrated six months, he was obliged to fly from thence to escape the persecutions of Queen Mary, who then ascended the English Throne; and, embarking at Dublin, he was taken by the Pirates and sold. But he obtained his ransom, and proceeded to Basil, where he employed himself in his studies till recalled by Queen Elizabeth, who gave him a Prebend of Canterbury; upon which he was rather contented to live, than to return any more te Ireland. He died in November, 1563. He published many Books both in Latin and in English, in Prose and Verse, amongst which this Comedy is one of the scarcest, and gives us a true Idea of the Stage in those times, when it appears the first reformers endeavoured to expose the errors of the Roman Church, and to propagate the Gospel, even in those places which had been remarkable for vice; for, I apprehend, this as well as some other Interludes, composed by him, were the productions of his younger days just after his conversion, as it more particularly appears in the conclusion of this Comedy; and it is further valuable, as it is in no catalogue of plays that ever I saw, and gives us a specimen of the most refined part of our language in King Henry ths Eighth's Reign. To conclude, he was a man of learning, a constant preacher and good antiqnary, but a most bitter writer against the Church of Rome, insomuch that he has drawn the whole herd of writers on that side the qnestion upon himself in most bitter invectives, when ever they mention him; and his books are particularly prohibited in the Expurgatory Index, published in folio, at Madrid, Anno 1667;

Pater ccelestis, t. e. The heavenly Iesus Christus, Jetut Christ.


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THE kyngedome of Christ, wyll now * begynnc to sprynge,
Which is the preachynge, of his newe testament+.
Now shall Messias, which is our heauenly kynge.
Apere to the worlde, in manhode euydent.
Whose wholsom commynge, Iohan Baptyst wyll preucnt,

* Our King twins ready to shake off the Popish superstition.

* la opposition to ihsuadiuontoi the chuicbof lionie.

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