If my sight fail not

Katherine
If my sight fail not,
You should be Lord Ambassador from the Emperor,
My royal nephew, and your name Capuchius.
Capuchius
Madam, the same. Your servant.
Katherine
O my lord,
The times and titles now are altered strangely
With me since first you knew me. But I pray you,
What is your pleasure with me?

O, my good lord, that comfort comes too late;
’Tis like a pardon after execution.
That gentle physic given in time had cured me.

Capuchius
Noble lady,
First, mine own service to your Grace; the next,
The King’s request that I would visit you,
Who grieves much for your weakness, and by me
Sends you his princely commendations,
And heartily entreats you take good comfort.
Katherine
O, my good lord, that comfort comes too late;
’Tis like a pardon after execution.
That gentle physic given in time had cured me.
But now I am past all comforts here but prayers.
How does his Highness?
Capuchius
Madam, in good health.
Katherine
So may he ever do, and ever flourish,
When I shall dwell with worms, and my poor name
Banished the kingdom.—Patience, is that letter
I caused you write yet sent away?
Patience
No, madam.
 She presents a paper to Katherine, who gives
 it to Capuchius.
Katherine
Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliver
This to my lord the King—
Capuchius
Most willing, madam.
Katherine
In which I have commended to his goodness
The model of our chaste loves, his young daughter—
The dews of heaven fall thick in blessings on her!—
Beseeching him to give her virtuous breeding—
She is young and of a noble, modest nature;
I hope she will deserve well—and a little
To love her for her mother’s sake that loved him,
Heaven knows how dearly. My next poor petition
Is that his noble Grace would have some pity
Upon my wretched women, that so long
Have followed both my fortunes faithfully,Alliteration
Of which there is not one, I dare avow—
And now I should not lie—but will deserve,
For virtue and true beauty of the soul,
For honesty and decent carriage,
A right good husband. Let him be a noble;
And sure those men are happy that shall have ’em.
The last is for my men—they are the poorest,
But poverty could never draw ’em from me—
That they may have their wages duly paid ’em,
And something over to remember me by.
If heaven had pleased to have given me longer life
And able means, we had not parted thus.
These are the whole contents. And, good my lord,
By that you love the dearest in this world,
As you wish Christian peace to souls departed,
Stand these poor people’s friend, and urge the King
To do me this last right.
Capuchius
By heaven, I will,
Or let me lose the fashion of a man!
Katherine
I thank you, honest lord. Remember me
In all humility unto his Highness.
Say his long trouble now is passing
Out of this world. Tell him in death I blessed him,
For so I will. Mine eyes grow dim. Farewell,
My lord.—Griffith, farewell.—Nay, Patience,
You must not leave me yet. I must to bed;
Call in more women. When I am dead, good wench,
Let me be used with honor. Strew me over
With maiden flowers, that all the world may know
I was a chaste wife to my grave. Embalm me,
Then lay me forth. Although unqueened, yet like
A queen and daughter to a king inter me.
I can no more.
 They exit, leading Katherine.