Sur. Thou art a proud traitor, priest. Wol. Proud lord, thou liest; Have burnt that tongue, than said so. Thy ambition, Sur. (With thee, and all thy best parts bound together,) Far from his succour, from the king, from all That might have mercy on the fault thou gav'st him; Wol. †That I, in the way of loyalty and truth Dare mate a sounder man than Surrey can be, Sur. By my soul, Your long coat, priest, protects you; thou should'st feel My sword i'the life-blood of thee else. Can you endure to hear this arrogance? My lords, And from this fellow? If we live thus tamely, 5 To be thus jaded by a piece of scarlet, ↑ "That in the way," &c.— Malone. To be thus jaded-] To be abused and ill treated, like a worthless horse or perhaps to be ridden by a priest; to have him mounted above us. Farewell nobility; let his grace go forward, Wol. Is poison to thy stomach. Sur. All goodness 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, Who, if he live, will scarce be gentlemen, Worse than the sacring bell 7, 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 6 And dare us with his cap, like larks.] It is well known that the hat of a cardinal is scarlet; and that one of the methods of daring Jarks was by small mirrors fastened on scarlet cloth, which engaged the attention of these birds while the fowler drew his net over them. 7 Worse than the sacring bell,] The little bell which is rung to give notice of the Host approaching when it is carried in procession, as also in other offices of the Romish church, is called the sacring or consecration bell; from the French word, sacrer. Now, if you can blush, and cry guilty, cardinal, Wol. Speak on, sir; I dare your worst objections: if I blush, Sur. I'd rather want those, than my head. you. Have at First, that, without the king's assent, or knowledge, Nor. Then, that, in all you writ to Rome, or else Was still inscrib'd; in which you brought the king your servant. To be Then, that, without the knowledge Sur. Item, you sent a large commission Suf. That out of mere ambition, you have caus'd 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, 8 Your holy hat to be stamp'd on the king's coin.] This was certainly one of the articles exhibited against Wolsey, but rather with a view to swell the catalogue, than from any serious cause of accusation; inasmuch as the archbishops Cranmer, Bainbrigge, and Warnham, were indulged with the same privilege. 9 to the mere undoing-] Mere is absolute, Press not a falling man too far; 'tis virtue: Sur. I forgive him. Suf. Lord cardinal, the king's further pleasure is, 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 stubborn answer, your 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 of a præmunire,] It is almost unnecessary to observe that præmunire is a barbarous word used instead of præmonere. I feel my heart new open'd: O, how wretched At my misfortunes? can thy spirit wonder, Crom. Wol. How does your grace? Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell. A peace above all earthly dignities, Why, well; A still and quiet conscience. The king has cur'd me, A load would sink a navy, too much honour: 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. 2 and their ruin,] Their ruin is their displeasure, producing the downfall and ruin of him on whom it lights. |