There is betwixt that fmile we would afpire to,
That fweet Afpect of Princes, and their ruin,
More pangs and fears than Wars or Women have:
And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,

Never to hope again.

Enter Cromwell standing amaz'd,

Why, how now Cromwell?

Crom. I have no power to speak, Sir.

Wol. What, amaz'd

At my Misfortunes? Can thy Spirit wonder
A great Man fhould decline. Nay, and you weep
I am fall'n indeed.

Crom. How does your Grace?

Wol. Why, well;

Never fo truly happy, my good Cromwell,
I know my felf now, and I feel within me,
A Peace above all Earthly Dignities,

A ftill and quiet Confcience. The King has cur'd me,
I humbly thank his Grace; and from these Shoulders
This ruin'd Pillar, out of pity, taken

A load would fink a Navy, too much Honour.
O'tis a Burden, Cromwell, 'tis a Burden

Too heavy for a Man, that hopes for Heav'n.
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 Miferies, and greater far

Than my weak-hearted Enemies dare offer;

What News abroad?

Crom. The heavieft, and the worst,

Is your difpleasure with the King.

Wol. God bless him.

Crom. The next is, that Sir Thomas Moor is chofer

Lord Chancellor, in your place.

Wol. That's fomewhat fudden

But he's a learned Man. May he continue
Long in his Highnefs favour, and do Justice.

For Truth's fakes and his Confcience; that his Bones,
VOL. IV.

R

When

When he has run his courfe, and fleeps in Bleffings,
May have a Tomb of Orphans Tears wept on him.
What more?

Crom. That Cranmer is return'd with welcome;
Inftall'd Lord Archbishop of Canterbury.
Wol. That's News indeed.

Crom. Laft, that the Lady Anne,

Whom the King hath in fecrecy long married,
This day was view'd in open, as his Queen,
Going to Chappel; 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 loft for ever.

No Sun fhall ever ufher 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 Mifter. Seek the King,
That Sun, I pray may never fet; I have told him,
What, and how true thou art; he will advance thee:
Some little memory of me will ftir him,

I know his noble Nature, not to let

Thy hopeful fervice perifh too. Good Cromwell,
Neglect him not; make ufe now, and provide
For thine own future fafety.

Crom. O my Lord,

Muft I then leave you? Muft I needs forgo
So good, fo noble, and fo true a Master?
Bear witnefs, all that have not Hearts of Iron,
With what a forrow Cromwell leaves his Lord.
The King fhall have my fervice; but my Prayers
For ever and for ever fhall be yours.

Wol. Cromwell, I did not think to fhed a Tear
In all my Miseries; but thou haft forc'd me,
Out of thy honeft truth, to play the Woman.
Let's dry our Eyes: And thus far hear me, Cromwell,
And when I am forgotten, as I fhall be,

And fleep in dull cold Marble, where no mention

of

Of me more must be heard: Say, I taught thee;
Say, Wolfey, that once trod the ways of Glory,
And founded all the Depths and Shoals of Honour,
Found thee a way, out of his wrack, to rife in:
A fure, and fafe one, though thy Mafter mift 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 it?
Love thy felf laft, cherish thofe Hearts that hate thee!
Corruption wins not more than Honesty.

Still in thy right Hand, carry gentle Peace

To filence envious Tongues. Be juft, and fear not.
Let all the ends thou aim'ft at, be thy Country's,

Thy God's and Truth's; then if thou fall'ft, O Cromwell,
Thou fall'ft a bleffed Martyr.

Serve the King; and prithee lead me in:
There take an Inventory of all I have,
To the laft Penny, 'tis the King's.

And my Integrity to Heav'n, is all,

My Robe,

I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell,
Had I but ferv'd my God, with half the Zeal

I ferv'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. Farewel

The hopes of Court, my hopes in Heav'n do dwell.

[Exeunt

ACT IV. SCENE I.

Enter two Gentlemen, meeting one another.

Ou're well met once again.

4 Gen. You're

2 Gen. So are you.

1 Gen. You come to take your Stand here, and behold The Lady Anne pafs from her Coronation.

2 Gen. 'Tis all my Bufinefs. At our laft encounter, The Duke of Buckingham came from his Trial. R 2

✰ Geri

1 Gen. 'Tis very true.

This, general Joy.

But that time offer'd Sorrow,

2 Gen. 'Tis well; the Citizens

I am fure have fhewn at full their Royal Minds,
And let 'em have their rights, they are ever forward
In Celebration of this day with Shews,

Pag ants, and Sights of Honour.

1 Gen. Never greater,

Nor I'll affure you better taken, Sir.

2 Gen. May I be bold to ask what that contains, That Paper in your Hands?

1 Gen. Yes, 'tis the Lift

Of thofe that claim their Offices this Day,
By cuftom 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 Marfhal; you may read the reft.

2 Gen. I thank you, Sir; had I not known thofe Customs,
I should have been beholding to your Paper:
But I beseech you what's become of Katharine,
The Princess Dowager? How goes her Bufinefs?

1 Gen. 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, fix Miles off
From Ampthil, where the Princefs lay, to which
She was often cited by them, but appear'd not:
And to be short, for not Appearance, and
The King's late fcruple, by the main affent
Of all thefe learned Men, fhe was Divorc'd,
And the late Marriage made of none effect:
Since which, fhe was removed to Kimbolton,
Where the remains now fick.

2 Gen. Alas good Lady!

The Trumpets found; ftand clofe,
The Queen is coming.

[Hausboys.

The

The Order of the Coronation,

1. A lively Flourish of Trumpets.

2. Then two Judges.

3. Lord Chancellor, with the Purfe and Mace before him.

4. Quirifters finging.

5. Mayor of London, bearing the Mace.

[Mufick.

Then Garter in his Coat of Arms, and on his Head a Gilt Copper Crown.

6. Marquess of Dorfet, bearing a Scepter of Gold, on his Head a Demi-Coronal of Gold. With him, the Earl of Surrey, bearing the Rod of Silver with the Dove, Crown'd with an Earl's Coronet. Collars of SS.

7. Duke of Suffolk, in his Robe of Eftate, 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.

8. A Canopy born by four of the Cinque-ports, under it the Queen in her Robe; in her Hair, richly adorned with Pearl, Crowned. On each fide her the Bishops of London and Winchester.

9. The old Dutchess of Norfolk, 'in a Coronal of Gold,wrought with Flowers, bearing the Queen's Train.

10. Certain Ladies or Counteffes, with plain Circlets of Gold without Flowers.

They pass over the Stage in Order and State, and then Exeunt, with a great Flourish of Trumpets.

2 Gen. A Royal Train, believe me; these I know; Who's that bears the Scepter?

1 Gen. Marquefs Dorfet.

And that the Earl of Surrey, with the Rod.

2 Gen. A bold brave Gentleman. That should be The Duke of Suffolk.

I Gen. 'Tis the fame: High Steward.
2 Gen. And that my Lord of Norfolk?

1 Gen. Yes.

2 Gen. Heav'n bless thee,

Thou haft the fweeteft Face I ever look'd on