Most honored madam, My Lord of York, out of his noble nature

Campeius
Most honored madam,
My Lord of York, out of his noble nature,
Zeal, and obedience he still bore your Grace,
Forgetting, like a good man, your late censure
Both of his truth and him—which was too far—
Offers, as I do, in a sign of peace,
His service and his counsel.

Alas, I am a woman friendless, hopeless.

Queen Katherine, aside To betray me.—
My lords, I thank you both for your good wills.
You speak like honest men; pray God you prove so.
But how to make you suddenly an answer
In such a point of weight, so near mine honor—
More near my life, I fear—with my weak wit,
And to such men of gravity and learning,
In truth I know not. I was set at work
Among my maids, full little, God knows, looking
Either for such men or such business.
For her sake that I have been—for I feel
The last fit of my greatness—good your Graces,
Let me have time and counsel for my cause.
Alas, I am a woman friendless, hopeless.
Wolsey 
Madam, you wrong the King’s love with these fears;
Your hopes and friends are infinite.
Queen Katherine
In England
But little for my profit. Can you think, lords,
That any Englishman dare give me counsel,
Or be a known friend, ’gainst his Highness’ pleasure,
Though he be grown so desperate to be honest,
And live a subject? Nay, forsooth. My friends,
They that must weigh out my afflictions,
They that my trust must grow to, live not here.
They are, as all my other comforts, far hence
In mine own country, lords.