(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 gavest

him:

Whilst your great goodness, out of holy pity,
Absolved 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 loved 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 shouldst

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 good-

ness,

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 despised 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

⚫Equal.

+ Ridden.

A cardinal's hat is scarlet, and the method of daring larks is by small mirrors on scarlet cloth.

Worse than the sacring bell,when the brown wench Lay kissing in your arms, lord cardinal.

Wol. How much, methinks, I could despise this

man,

But that I am bound in charity against it!

Nor. Those articles, my lord, are in the king's hand:

But, thus much, they are foul ones.
Wol. So much fairer,

And spotless, shall mine innocence arise,
When the king knows my truth.

Sur. This cannot save you:

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 shew 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. Have
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, Egó et Rex meus
Was still inscribed; 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 caused 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 * undoing
Of all the kingdom. Many more there are;
Which, since they are of you, and odious,
I will not taint my mouth with.

* Absolute.

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 him. My heart weeps to see him So little of his great self.

Sur. I forgive him.

Suf. Lord cardidal, 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 pramuniret,

That therefore such a writ be sued against yon:
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, fall surely
His greatness is a ripening,-nips his root,
And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured,
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.
Vain pomp and glory of the world, I hate ye;
I feel my heart new open'd: 0, how wretched
Is that poor man, that hangs on princes' favours!
There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to,
That sweet aspect of princes, and their rain,
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,
Wol. What, amazed

Sir.

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 cured 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:

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.

The chancellor is the guardian of orphans.

Wol. There was the weight that pull'd ine 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

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 forced me
Out of thy honest truth to play the woman.
Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Crom-

well,

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,

+ Interest.