Wol. Is he ready

To come abroad?

Crom. I think, by this he is.

Wol. Leave me a while. [Exit Cromwell. It shall be to the duchess of Alençon,

For, I profess, you have it.

Sur. Now all my joy

Trace the conjunction!
Suf. My amen to't!
Nor. All men's.

Suf. There's order given for her coronation : Marry, this is yet but young, and may be left To some ears unrecounted.-But, my lords, She is a gallant creature, and complete

In mind and feature: I persuade me, from her Will fall some blessing to this land, which shall In it be memoriz'd.

Sur. But, will the king

Digest this letter of the cardinal's ?

The lord forbid !

Nor. Marry, amen!

Suf. No, no;

There be more wasps, that buz about his nose,
Will make this sting the sooner. Cardinal
Campeius

Is stolen away to Rome; hath ta'en no leave;
Has left the cause o'the king unhandled; and
Is posted, as the agent of our cardinal,
To second all his plot. I do assure you
The king cry'd, ha! at this.

Cham. Now, God incense him,
And let him cry ha, louder !
Nor. But, my lord,

When returns Cranmer?

Suf. He is return'd, in his opinions; which Have satisfied the king for his divorce, Together with all famous colleges

Almost in Christendom: shortly, I believe,

Anne Bullen! No; I'll no Anne Bullens for him: There is more in it than fair visage.-Bullen! No, we'll no Bullens.-Speedily I wish

To hear from Rome.-The marchioness of Pembroke!

Nor. He's discontented.

Suf. May be, he hears the king Does whet his anger to him.

Sur. Sharp enough, Lord, for thy justice!

Wol. The late queen's gentlewoman; a knight's daughter,

To be her mistress' mistress! the queen's queen!This candle burns not clear: 'tis I must snuff it; Then, out it goes.-What though I know her

virtuous,

And well-deserving? yet I know her for
A spleeny Lutheran; and not wholesome to
Our cause, that she should lie i'the bosom of
Our hard-rul'd king. Again, there is sprung up
An heretick, an arch one, Cranmer ; one
Hath crawl'd into the favour of the king,
And is his oracle.

Nor. He is vex'd at something.
Suf. I would, 'twere something that would
fret the string,

The master-cord of his heart.

Enter the King, reading a schedule; and

LOVELL.

Suf. The king, the king.

K. Hen. What piles of wealth hath he accu mulated

We have seen him set himself.

K. Hen. It may well be;

There is a mutiny in his mind. This morning
Fapers of state he sent me to peruse,

As I requir'd; And, wot 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 out-speaks
Possession of a subject.

Nor. It's heaven's will;

Some spirit put this paper in the packet,
To bless your eye withal.

K. Hen. If we did think

His contemplation were above the earth,
And fix'd on spiritual object, he should still
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 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; and am glad
To have you therein my companion.

Wol. Sir,

For holy offices I have a time; a time
To think upon the part of business, which
I bear i'the state; and nature does require
Her times of preservation, which, perforce,
I, her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal,
Must give my tendance to.

K. Hen. You have said 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
Employ'd you where high profits might come
home,

But par'd my present havings, to bestow
My bounties upon you.

Wol. What should this mean?

Sur. The lord increase this business! [Aside, K. Hen. Have I not made you

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,

If 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.

K. Hen. Fairly answer'd ;
A loyal and obedient subject is

Therein illustrated: The honour of it
Does pay the act of it; as, i'the contrary,
The foulness is the punishment. I presume,
That, as my hand has open'd bounty to you,
My heart dropp'd love, my power rain'd honour,

you,

gether,

As I will lend you cause, my doing well

With my well-saying!

K. Hen. 'Tis well said again;

And 'tis a kind of good deed, to say well:

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 great-

ness;

do it,

(I mean, your malice,) know, officious lords,
I 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 seal,
You ask with such a violence, the king,
(Mine, and your master,) with his own hand

gave me :

Bade me enjoy it, with the place and honours, During my life; and, to confirm his goodness, Tied it by letters patents: Now, who'll take it? Sur. The king, that gave it.

Wol. It must be himself then.
Sur. Thou art a proud traitor, priest.
Wol. Proud lord, thou liest ;
Within these forty hours Surrey durst better
Have burnt that tongue, than said so.
Sur. Thy ambition,

Thou scarlet sin, robb'd this bewailing land
Of noble Buckingham, my father-in-law:
The heads of all thy brother cardinals,
(With thee, and all thy best parts bound together,)
Weigh'd not a hair of his. Plague of your policy!
You sent me deputy for Ireland;

Far from his succour, from the king, from all, That might have mercy on the fault thou gav ́st him;

Whilst your great goodness, out of holy pity, Absolv'd him with an axe.

Wol. This, and all else

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.

Sur. By my soul,

Your long coat, priest, protects you; thou should'st feel

My sword i'the life-blood of thee else.-My lords,
Can ye endure to hear this arrogance?
And from this fellow? If we live thus tamely,
To be thus jaded by a piece of scarlet,
Farewell nobility; let his grace go forward,
And dare us with his cap, like larks,
Wol.. All goodness

Is poison to thy stomach.

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, when the brown
wench

Lay kissing in your arms, lord cardinal.
Wol. How much, methinks, I could despise

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

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,
Weary, and old with service, to the mercy
Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.

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 Casalis, 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 substance,

(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 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. O my lord,

Press not a falling man too far; 'tis virtue :
His faults lie open to the laws; let them,
Not you, correct them. My heart weeps to see
him ·

So little of his great self.

Sur. I forgive him.

VOL. II.

I feel my heart new open'd: O, how wretched
Is that poor man, that hangs on princes' favours!
There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to,
That sweet aspéct 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, amazedly.
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 should decline? Nay, an you weep,
I am fallen indeed.

Crom. How does your grace?
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 :

N

But he's a learned man. May he continue 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 orphans' tears 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, Crom-
well;

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,
(1 know his noble nature,) not to let
Thy hopeful service perish too: Good Cromwell,
Neglect him not; make use now, and provide
For thine own future safety.

Crom. O my lord,

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 ho

nour,

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
Cromwell,

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, Crom

well,

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?

2 Gent. 'Tis all my business. At our last

encounter,

The duke of Buckingham came from his trial. 1 Gent. 'Tis very true: but that time offer'd sorrow;

This, general joy.

2 Gent. "Tis well: The citizens,

I am sure, have shown at full their royal minds; As, let them have their rights, they are ever forward

In celebration of this day, with shows,
Pageants, and sights of honour.

1 Gent. Never greater,

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.