SCENE II. 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.