Dwell in his musings: but, I am afraid,
His thinkings are below the moon, not worth
His serious considering.

[He takes his Seat, and whispers Lovell,
who goes to WOLSEY.

Wol.
Heaven forgive me!
Ever God bless your highness!

K. Hen.

Good, my lord,

You are full of heavenly stuff, and bear the in

To hear from Rome.

broke!

ventory

Nor. He's discontented.
Suf.

Does whet his anger to him.

Sir,

And 'tis a kind of good deed, to say well:
And yet words are no deeds. My father lov'd you:
He said, he did; and with his deed did crown
His word upon you.
Since I had my office,

I have kept you next my heart; have not alone

the string,

The master-cord of his heart!

My lord, we have Stood here observing him: Some strange commotion Is in his brain: he bites his lip, and starts; Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground, Then, lays his finger on his temple; straight, Springs out into fast gait 7; then, stops again, Strikes his breast hard; and anon, he casts His eye against the moon: in most strange postures We have seen him set himself.

K. Hen. It may well be; There is a mutiny in his mind. This morning Papers of state he sent me to peruse, As I requir'd; and wot 8 you, what I found There; on my conscience, put unwittingly? Forsooth, an inventory, thus importing, The several parcels of his plate, his treasure, Rich stuffs and ornaments of household; which I find at such proud rate, that it outspeaks Possession of a subject.

The prime man of the state? I pray you, tell me,
If what I now pronounce, you have found true:
And, if you may confess it, say withal,
you are bound to us, or no. What say you?
Wol. My sovereign, I confess, your royal graces,
Shower'd on me daily, have been more, than could
My studied purposes requite; which went
Beyond all man's endeavours: - my endeavours
Have ever come too short of my desires,
Yet, fil'd with my abilities: Mine own ends
Have been mine so, that evermore they pointed
To the good of your most sacred person, and
The profit of the state. For your great graces
Heap'd upon me, poor undeserver, I
Can nothing render but allegiant thanks;
My prayers to heaven for you; my loyalty,
Which ever has, and ever shall be growing,
Till death, that winter, kill it.

'Tis nobly spoken: Take notice, lords, he has a loyal breast, For you have seen him open't. Read o'er this; [Giving him Papers. And, after, this: and then to breakfast, with What appetite you have. [Exit KING, frowning upon CARDINAL WOLSEY: the Nobles throng after him, smiling, and whispering.

Wol.
What should this mean?
What sudden anger's this? how have I reap'd it?
He parted frowning from me, as if ruin
Leap'd from his eyes: So looks the chafed lion
Upon the daring huntsman that has gall'd him;
Then makes him nothing. I must read this paper;
I fear, the story of his anger. 'Tis so;
This paper has undone me : - 'Tis the account
Of all that world of wealth I have drawn together
For mine own ends; indeed, to gain the popedom,
And fee my friends in Rome. O negligence,
Fit for a fool to fall by! What cross devil
Made me put this main secret in the packet
I sent the king? Is there no way to cure this?
No new device to beat this from his brains?
I know, 'twill stir him strongly; yet I know
A way, if it take right, in spite of fortune
Will bring me off again. What's this- To the Pope?
The letter, as I live, with all the business
I writ to his holiness. Nay then, farewell!

I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness;
And, from that full meridian of my glory,
I haste now to my setting: I shall fall
Like a bright exhalation in the evening,
And no man see me more.

Re-enter the DUKES OF NORFOLK and SUFFOLK, the
EARL OF SURREY, and the Lord Chamberlain.
Nor. Hear the king's pleasure, cardinal; who
commands you

To render up the great seal presently
Into our hands; and to confine yourself
To Asher-House', my lord of Winchester's,
Till you hear further from his highness.

Wol.

Stay,

Where's your commission, lords? words cannot carry
Authority so weighty.
Suf.
Who dare cross them?
Bearing the king's will from his mouth expressly?
Wol. Till I find more than will, or words, to do it,
(I mean your malice,) know, officious lords,
Ì dare, and must deny it. Now I feel
Of what coarse metal ye are moulded — envy
How eagerly ye follow my disgraces,
As if it fed ye! and how sleek and wanton
Ye appear in every thing may bring my ruin!
Follow your envious courses, men of malice;
You have christian warrant for them, and, no doubt,
In time will find their fit rewards.
That scal,

Esher in Surrey.

This talking lord can lay upon my credit,
I answer, is most false. The duke by law
Found his deserts: how innocent I was
From any private malice in his end,
His noble jury and foul cause can witness.
If I lov'd many words, lord, I should tell you,
You have as little honesty as honour;
That I, in the way of loyalty and truth
Toward the king, my ever royal master,
Dare mate a sounder man than Surrey can be,
And all that love his follies.

Is poison to thy stomach.

All goodness

Sur. Yes, that goodness Of gleaning all the land's wealth into one, Into your own hands, cardinal, by extortion; The goodness of your intercepted packets, You writ to the pope, against the king; your goodness, Since you provoke me, shall be most notorious. My lord of Norfolk, —as you are truly noble, As you respect the common good, the state Of our despis'd nobility, our issues, Who, if he live, will scarce be gentlemen, Produce the grand sum of his sins, the articles Collected from his life: - I'll startle you Worse than the sacring bell, lord cardinal.

Wol. How much, methinks, I could despise this

Sur.

I thank my memory, I yet remember
Some of these articles; and out they shall.
Now, if you can blush, and cry guilty, cardinal,
You'll show a little honesty.

Wol.

Speak on, sir: I dare your worst objections: If I blush It is, to see a nobleman want manners.

Sur. I'd rather want those, than my head. at you.

First, that, without the king's assent, or knowledge,
You wrought to be a legate; by which power
You maim'd the jurisdiction of all bishops.

Nor. Then, that, in all you writ to Rome, or else To foreign princes, Ego et Rex meus

Was still inscrib'd; in which you brought the king To be your servant.

Suf. Then, that without the knowledge Either of king or council, when you went Ambassador to the emperor, you made bold To carry into Flanders the great seal.

Sur. Item, you sent a large commission To Gregory de Cassalis, to conclude, Without the king's will, or the state's allowance, A league between his highness and Ferrara. Suf. That, out of mere ambition, you have caus'd Your holy hat to be stamp'd on the king's coin. Sur. Then, that you have sent innumerable sub

stance,

(By what means got, I leave to your own conscience,)
To furnish Rome, and to prepare the ways
You have for dignities; to the mere 5 undoing
Of all the kingdom. Many more there are;
Which, since they are of you, and odious,
I will not taint my mouth with.
Cham.
Press not a falling man too far;
His faults lie open to the laws;
Not you, correct him. My heart weeps to see him
So little of his great self.

Sur.

O my lord, 'tis virtue: let them,

I forgive him.

Suf. Lord cardinal, the king's further pleasure is,— Because all those things, you have done of late By your power legatine within this kingdom, Fall into the compass of a pramunire 6,That therefore such a writ be sued against you; To forfeit all your goods, lands, tenements, Chattels, and whatsoever, and to be

Out of the king's protection: This is my charge.

Nor. And so we'll leave you to your meditations How to live better. For your stubborn answer, About the giving back the great seal to us, The king shall know it, and no doubt, shall thank

you.

So fare you well, my little good lord cardinal.

[Exeunt all but WOLSEY.

Wol. So farewell to the little good you bear me. Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man; to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him: The third day, comes a frost, a killing frost; And,-when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening,-nips his root, And then he falls, as I do. I have ventur'd, Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory; But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride At length broke under me; and now has left me, 6 A writ incurring a penalty.

5 Absolute.

Crom.

Wol.

Why, well;

Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell.
I know myself now; and I feel within me
A peace above all earthly dignities,

A still and quiet conscience. The king has cur'd me,
I humbly thank his grace; and from these shoulders,
These ruin'd pillars, out of pity, taken

A load would sink a navy, too much honour;
O, 'tis a burden, Cromwell, 'tis a burden,
Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven.

Crom. I am glad, your grace has made that right use of it.

Wol. I hope, I have: I am able now, methinks, (Out of a fortitude of soul I feel,)

To endure more miseries, and greater far,
Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer.
What news abroad?

Crom.

The heaviest and the worst, Is your displeasure with the king.

Wol. God bless him! Crom. The next is, that sir Thomas More is chosen Lord chancellor in your place.

Wol.

That's somewhat sudden : May he continue

But he's a learned man.
Long in his highness' favour, and do justice
For truth's sake, and his conscience; that his bones,
When he has run his course, and sleeps in blessings,
May have a tomb of orphan's tears 7 wept on 'em!
What more?

Crom. That Cranmer is return'd with welcome,
Install'd lord archbishop of Canterbury.
Wol. That's news indeed.
Crom.

Last, that the lady Anne, Whom the king hath in secrecy long married, This day was view'd in open, as his queen, Going to chapel; and the voice is now Only about her coronation.

Wol. There was the weight that pull'd me down.
O Cromwell,

The king has gone beyond me, all my glories
In that one woman I have lost for ever:
No sun shall ever usher forth mine honours,
Or gild again the noble troops that waited
Upon my smiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell,
I am a poor fallen man, unworthy now
To be thy lord and master: Seek the king;
That sun, I pray, may never set! I have told him
What, and how true thou art: he will advance thee;
Some little memory of me will stir him
(I know his noble nature,) not to let

The chancellor is the guardian of orphans.

Thy hopeful service perish too: Good Cromwell,
Neglect him not; make use 8 now, and provide
For thine own future safety.
O, my lord,

Crom.
Must I then leave you? Must I needs forego
So good, so noble, and so true a master?
Bear witness, all, that have not hearts of iron,
With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord.
The king shall have my service; but my prayers
For ever, and for ever, shall be yours.

Wol. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries; but thou hast forc'd me Out of thy honest truth to play the woman. Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell; And,-when I am forgotten, as I shall be; And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me more must be heard of,- say, I taught thee, Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour,Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in; A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it. Mark but my fall, and that that ruin'd me. 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't?
Love thyself last; cherish those hearts that hate thee;
Corruption wins not more than honesty.
Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace,

To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not;
Let all the ends thou aim'st at, be thy country's,
Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, O Crom-
well,

Thou fall'st a blessed martyr. Serve the king,
And,- Pr'ythee lead me in:

There take an inventory of all I have,

To the last penny: 'tis the king's: my robe,
And my integrity to heaven, is all

I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell,
Had I but serv'd my God with half the zeal
I serv'd my king, he would not in mine age
Have left me naked to mine enemies.
Crom. Good sir, have patience.
Wol.

So I have.

Farewell,

The hopes of court! my hopes in heaven do dwell. [Exeunt.

SCENE I.-A Street in Westminster.
Enter two Gentlemen, meeting.

1 Gent. You are well met once again.
2 Gent.

And so are you. 1 Gent. You come to take your stand here, and behold

The lady Anne pass from her coronation?

And, to be short, for not appearance, and
The king's late scruple, by the main assent
Of all these learned men she was divorc'd,
And the late marriage made of none effect:
Since which, she was removed to Kimbolton,
Where she remains now, sick.
2 Gent.

Alas, good lady! [Trumpets.

3.

him. Choristers singing.

Never greater,

4.

5.

Nor, I'll assure you, better taken, sir.

2 Gent. May I be bold to ask what that contains, That paper in your hand?

1 Gent.

Yes; 'tis the list

Of those that claim their offices this day,

By custom of the coronation.

The duke of Suffolk is the first, and claims
To be high steward; next, the duke of Norfolk,
He to be earl marshal; you may read the rest.

2 Gent. I thank you, sir; had I not known those

customs,

I should have been beholden to your paper.
But, I beseech you, what becomes of Katharine,
The princess-dowager? how goes her business?

1 Gent. That I can tell you too. The archbishop

Of Canterbury, accompanied with other
Learned and reverend fathers of his order,
Held a late court at Dunstable, six miles off
From Ampthill, where the princess lay; to which
She oft was cited by them, but appear'd not:

8 Interest.

[Musick. Mayor of London, bearing the mace. Then Garter, in his coat of arms, and, on his head, a g copper crown. Marquis Dorset, bearing a scepter of gold, on his head a demi-coronal of gold. With him, the Earl of Surrey, bearing the rod of steer, with the dove, crowned with an earl's coronetCollars of SS.

6. Duke of Suffolk, in his robe of estate, his coronet on his head, bearing a long white wand, as high steward. With him the Duke of Norfolk, with the rod of marshalship, a coronet on his head. Collars of SS.

7. A canopy borne by four of the Cinque-ports; under it, the Queen in her robe; in her hair, richly adorned with pearl, crowned. On each sule of her, the Bishops of London and Winchester.

8. The old Duchess of Norfolk, in a coronal of gold, wrought with flowers, bearing the Queen's

train.

9. Certain Ladies or Countesses, with plain circles of gold without flowers.