Imatges de pàgina
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They melted from the field, as snow,

When streams are swoln and south winds blow,

Dissolves in silent dew.

Tweed's echoes heard the ceaseless splash,

While many a broken band, Disordered, through her currents dash.

To gain the Scottish land;

To town and tower, to down and dale,
To tell red Flodden's dismal tale
And raise the universal wail.
Tradition, legend, tune, and song,
Shall many an age that wail prolong:
Still from the sire the son shall hear
Of the stern strife and carnage drear,
Of Flodden's fatal field,

Where shivered was fair Scotland's spear,
And broken was her shield!
Day dawns upon the mountain side:
There, Scotland! lay thy bravest pride-
Chiefs, knights, and nobles, many a one,
The sad survivors all are gone.
View not that corpse mistrustfully,
Defaced and mangled though it be;
Nor to yon Border castle high,1
Look northward with upbraiding eye,

Nor cherish hope in vain,

That, journeying far on foreign strand,

Home Castle, where it was thought James IV was hidden.

The royal Pilgrim to his land1

May yet return again.

He saw the wreck his rashness wrought,
Reckless of life, he desperate fought,
And fell on Flodden plain ;

And well in death his trusty brand,
Firm clench'd within his manly hand,
Beseem'd the monarch slain.

SIR WALTER SCOTT.

THE FALL OF WOLSEY.

1529.

Cardinal Wolsey, attended by his Secretary, Thomas Cromwell, is informed by the Duke of Norfolk and his son, the Earl of Surrey, of the king's intention to overthrow him.

NORFOLK.

The articles, my lord, are in the king's hand
But, thus much, they are foul ones.

WOLSEY.

So much fairer

And spotless shall mine innocence arise,

When the king knows my truth.

1 Some said James had gone on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem.
* The points of accusation against Wolsey.

SURREY.

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 show a little honesty.

WOLSEY.

Speak on, sir;

I dare your worst objections: if I blush,

It is to see a nobleman want manners.

SURREY.

I'd rather want those than my head. Have at you!
First, that, without the king's consent, or knowledge,
You wrought to be a legate; by which power
You maim'd the jurisdiction of all bishops.

NORFOLK.

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.

SUFFOLK.

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

Q

SURREY.

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.1

SUFFOLK.

That, out of mere ambition, you have caus'd
Your holy hat to be stamp'd on the king's coin.

SURREY.

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.

CHAMBERLAIN.

Oh, 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.

SURREY.

I forgive him.

1 The Duke of Ferrara.

SUFFOLK.

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 præmunire,1

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.
NORFOLK.

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.

WOLSEY.

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,

1 An offence against the famous Statute of Præmunire, which forbade, under heavy penalties, the introduction of any foreign power (notably the Papal) into England.

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