Sur. The king that gave it. It must be himself then. Sur. Thou art a proud traitor, priest. Proud lord, thou liest; Within these forty hours Surrey durst better Thy ambition, Sur. (With thee, and all thy best parts bound together) Far from his succor, 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 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, And dare us with his cap, like larks.1 1 A cardinal's hat is scarlet; and the method of daring larks is by small mirrors on scarlet cloth, which engages the attention of the birds while the fowler draws his net over them. Wol. Is poison to thy stomach. Sur. All goodness Yes, that goodness, Of gleaning all the land's wealth into one, You writ to the pope, against the king; your goodness, Worse than the sacring bell,' when the brown wench 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. So much fairer, Wol. 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, Wol. Speak on, sir. I dare your worst objection; if Í 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, 1 The little bell which is rung to give notice of the elevation of the Host, and other offices of the Romish church. 2 The amorous propensities of cardinal Wolsey are much dwelt upon in Roy's Satire against him, printed in the Supplement to Mr. Park's edition of the Harleian Miscellany. You wrought to be a legate; by which power Nor. Then, that, in all you writ to Rome, or else To foreign princes, Ego et Rex meus Was still inscribed; in which you brought the king Suf. To Sur. Item, you sent a large commission Without the king's will, or the state's allowance, Suf. That, out of mere ambition, you have caused Your holy hat to be stamped on the king's coin.1 Sur. Then, that you have sent innumerable sub stance (By what means got, I leave to your own conscience) 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 him. My heart weeps to see him Sur. I forgive him. Suf. 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,3— 1 This was 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, Bainbridge, and Warham, were indulged with the same privileges. 2 Absolute. 3 The judgment in a writ of præmunire (a barbarous word used instead of præmonere) is, that the defendant shall be out of the king's protection; and his lands and tenements, goods and chattels, forfeited to the king; and That therefore such a writ be sued against you; Out of the king's protection.-This is my charge. [Exeunt all but WOLSEY. Enter CROMWELL, amazedly. Why, how now, Cromwell? Crom. I have no power to speak, sir. that his body shall remain in prison at the king's pleasure. The old copy reads, erroneously, castles instead of cattels, the old word for chattels, as it is found in Holinshed, p. 909. VOL. V. 26 Wol. At What, amazed my misfortunes? Can thy spirit wonder, A great man should decline? Nay, an you weep, I am fallen indeed. Crom. Wol. How does your grace? Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell. Why, well; A still and quiet conscience. The king has cured me, A load would sink a navy, too much honor. 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, 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. That's somewhat sudden; Wol. For truth's sake, and his conscience; that his bones, Crom. That Cranmer is returned with welcome, Installed lord archbishop of Canterbury. Wol. That's news, indeed. Crom. Last, that the lady Anne, Whom the king hath in secrecy long married, |