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Henry VIII

Written: 1613; Text: First Folio 1623 (History), no quarto editions
Source: Holinshed, Raphael (c. 1528-c. 1580). The Chronicles of England, Scotland and Ireland. (2nd ed., 1587); Foxe, John (1516-87). The Book of Martyrs (4th ed., 1583)
Characters: Henry VIII, Cardinal Wolsey, Queen Katherine, Duke of Norfolk, Duke of Buckingham, Lord Chamberlain, Cranmer Archbishop of Canterbury, First Gentleman, Duke of Suffolk, Gardiner
Setting: London
Time: AD 1521-1533

Xxx xxx

Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot

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Heat not a furnace for your for so hot
That it do singe yourself.
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Act 1
Scene 1

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Here’s the pang that pinches

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Anne
Here’s the pang that pinches:
His Highness having lived so long with her, and she
So good a lady that no tongue could ever
Pronounce dishonor of her—by my life,
She never knew harm-doing!—O, now, after
So many courses of the sun enthroned,
Still growing in a majesty and pomp, the which
To leave a thousandfold more bitter than
’Tis sweet at first t’ acquire—after this process,
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Act 2
Scene 3
Line 1

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Sir, I desire you do me right and justice

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Sir, I desire you do me right and justice,
And to bestow your pity on me; for
I am a most poor woman and a stranger,
Born out of your dominions, having here
No judge indifferent nor no more assurance
Of equal friendship and proceeding.

When was the hour
I ever contradicted your desire,
Or made it not mine too?
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Act 2
Scene 4
Line 16

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Take thy lute, wench

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Queen Katherine
Take thy lute, wench. My soul grows sad with troubles.
Sing, and disperse ’em if thou canst. Leave working.
Woman sings 

Orpheus with his lute made trees
And the mountaintops that freeze
Bow themselves when he did sing.
To his music plants and flowers
Ever sprung,
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Act 3
Scene 1
Line 1

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Ever God bless your Highness

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Wolsey
Ever God bless your Highness.
King
Good my lord,
You are full of heavenly stuff and bear the inventory
Of your best graces in your mind, the which
You were now running o’er. You have scarce time
To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span
To keep your earthly audit. Sure, in that
I deem you an ill husband,
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Act 3
Scene 2
Line 175

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Where’s your commission, lords?

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Wolsey
Where’s your commission, lords? Words cannot carry
Authority so weighty.
Suffolk
Who dare cross ’em,
Bearing the King’s will from his mouth expressly?

Follow your envious courses, men of malice;
You have Christian warrant for ’em, and no doubt
In time will find their fit rewards.

Wolsey
Till I find more than will or words to do it—
I mean your malice—know,
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Act 3
Scene 2
Line 287

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