King Henry: Things done well,
And with a care, exempt themselves from fear;
Things done without example, in their issue
Are to be fear'd.
Queen Katharine: Alas, I am a woman, friendless, hopeless!
Cardinal Wolsey: Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition:
By that sin fell the angels; how can man, then,
The image of his Maker, hope to win by it?
Norfolk: Stay, my lord,
And let your reason with your choler question
What 'tis you go about: to climb steep hills
Requires slow pace at first: anger is like
A full-hot horse, who being allow'd his way,
Self-mettle tires him.
Griffith: He gave his honours to the world again,
His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace.
Queen Katharine: So may he rest; his faults lie gently on him!
Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak him,
And yet with charity.