Where's your commission, lords? words cannot carry
Authority so weighty.

Suf.

Bearing the king's will from his mouth expressly?

Who dare cross 'em,

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Wol. Till I find more than will or words to 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 everything may bring my ruin!
Follow your envious courses, men of malice;
You have Christian warrant for 'em, 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.

Within these forty hours Surrey durst better

Have burnt that tongue than said so.

Sur.

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Proud lord, thou liest :

Thy ambition,

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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;

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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,

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That 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,

My lords,

Your long coat, priest, protects you; thou shouldst feel
My sword i' the life-blood of thee else.
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.

Is poison to thy stomach.

Sur.

Of gleaning all the land's wealth into one,

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All goodness

Yes, that goodness

Into your own hands, cardinal, by extortion;

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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

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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.

Wol. How much, methinks, I could despise this man, But that I am bound in charity against it!

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Nor. Those articles, my lord, are in the king's hand : But, thus much, they are foul ones.

Wol.

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

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.

I dare your worst objections: if I blush,

Suf. I'd rather want those than my head. Have at you!

It is to see a nobleman want manners.

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.

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Nor. 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.

Suf.

Then that, without the knowledge

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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 Cassado, to conclude,

Without the king's will or the state's allowance,
A league between his highness and Ferrara.

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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

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

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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 pramunire—

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That therefore such a writ be sued against you;
To forfeit all your goods, lands, tenements,
Chattels, and whatsoever, and to be

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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.

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[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,

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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.
Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye :
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 aspect 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.

;

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Enter CROMWELL, amazedly.

Why, how now, Cromwell!

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What, amaz'd

Crom. I have no power to speak, sir.

Wol.

At 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?

Why, well;

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I know myself now; and I feel within me

Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell.

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?

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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?

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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.

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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, Cromwell;

I am a poor fallen man, unworthy now

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To be thy lord and master: seek the king;

That sun, I pray, may never set! I have told him

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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,
For thine own future safety.

and provide

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,

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