Imatges de pÓgina

And then he falls, as I do. I have ventur'd, • Like little wanton boys, that swim on bladders, • These many fummers in a fea 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 fervice, 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 opened. Oh how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on Princes favours! There is, betwixt that fmile we would aspire to, • That sweet aspect of Princes, and our ruin, More pangs and fears than war or women have, And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,

• Never to hope again.


Enter Cromwell ftanding amaz'd.

Why how now, Cromwell?

Crom. I have no power to speak, Sir.
Wol. What, amaz'd

At my misfortunes? can thy fpirit wonder
A great man fhould decline? nay, if you weep,
I'm fall'n indeed.

Crom. How does your Grace ?

Wol. Why, well;

Never fo truly happy, my good Cromwell.

I know my felf now, and I feel within me

A peace above all earthly dignities;

A till and quiet confcience. The King has cur'd me, I humbly thank his Grace; and from thefe fhoulders, Thefe ruin'd pillars, out of pity taken

A load would fink a navy, too much honour.

O'tis a burden, Cromwell, 'tis a burden

Too heavy for a man that hopes for heav'n.

Crom. I'm glad your Grace has made that right ufe

of it.

Wol. I hope I have: I'm able now methinks Out of a fortitude of foul I feel,

T'endure more miferies, and greater far



Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer:
What news abroad?

Cham. The heaviest, and the worst,

Is your difpleasure with the King,

Wol. God bless him.

Crom. The next is, that Sir Thomas Moor is chofen Lord Chancellor in your place.

Wol. That's fomewhat fudden.

But he's a learned man. May he continue
Long in his Highnefs' favour, and do justice
For truth's fake and his confcience; that his bones,
When he has run his courfe and fleeps in bleffings,
May have a tomb of orphans tears wept on him.
What more ?

Crom. That Cranmer is return'd with welcome + Inftall'd lord Archbishop of Canterbury.

Wol. That's news indeed.

Crom. Laft, that the lady Anne,

Whom the King hath in fecrecy long marry'd,
This day was view'd in open, as his Queen,
Going to chappel; and the voice is now
Only about her coronation.

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 loft for ever.

No fun fhall ever ufher forth my


Or gild again the noble troops that waited

Upon my fmiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell, I am a poor fall'n man, unworthy now

To be thy lord and master. Seek the King,

(That fun, I pray may never fet) I've 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 fervice perifh too. Good Cromwell,
Neglect him not; make ufe now, and provide
For thine own future fafety.

Crom. O my lord,

Muft I then leave you? must I needs forego


So good, fo noble, and fo true a master?
Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron,
With what a forrow Cromwell leaves his lord.
The King fhall have my fervice; but my prayers
For ever and for ever fhull be yours.

Wol. Cromwell, I did not think to fhead a tear
In all my miferies; but thou has forc'd me,
Out of thy honeft truth, to play the woman.
Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell,
And when I am forgotten, as I fhall be,

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And fleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me must more be heard: fay then I taught thee; Say, Wolfey, that once trod the ways of glory,

And founded all the depths and fhoals of honour, Found thee a way out of his wrack to rife in: A fure and fafe one, though thy mafter mifs'd it. • Mark but my fall and that which ruin'd me: Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away Ambition By that fin fell the angels; how can men then (The image of his maker) hope to win it?

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Love thy felf laft, cherish thofe hearts that hate thee: Corruption wins not more than honesty.

Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace

To filent envious tongues. Be juft, and fear not. Let all the ends thou aim'ft at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'ft, Cromwell,

Thou fall'ft a bleffed martyr. Serve the King; And pr'ythee lead me in

There take an inventory of all I have,

To the laft penny, 'tis the King's. My robe,
And my integrity to heav'n, is all

I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell,
Had I but ferv'd my God with half the zeal
I ferv'd my King, he would not in mine age
Have left me naked to mine enemies.

Crom. Good Sir, have patience.

Wol. So I have. Farewel

The hopes of court! my hopes in heav'n do dwell.




Enter two Gentlemen, meeting one another.

1 GENTLEMAN. OU'RE well met once again. 2 Gen. And fo are you.

1 Gen. You come to take your ftand here, and behold

The lady Anne pafs from her coronation.' 2 Gen. 'Tis all my business. At our laft encounter,

The Duke of Buckingham came from his tryal.

1 Gen. 'Tis very true. But that time offer'd sorrow, This, general joy.

2 Gen. 'Tis well; the citizens

I'm fure have fhewn at full their loyal minds,

And let 'em have their rights, they're ever forward

In celebration of this day with fhews,

Pageants, and fights of honour.

I Gen. Never greater,

Nor I'll affure you better taken, Sir.

2 Gen. May I be bold to ask what that contains, The paper in your hands?

1 Gen. Yes, 'tis the lift

Of thofe that claim their offices this day,

By cuftom of the coronation.

The Duke of Suffolk is the firft, and claims

To be High Steward; next the Duke of Norfolk,
To be Earl Marfhal; you may read the reft.

2 Gen. I thank you, Sir; had I not known those customs,

I fhould have been beholden to your paper.
But I beseech you what's become of Katharine,


The Princess Dowager? how goes her bufinefs?
1 Gen, That I can tell you too; the Arch-bishop
of Canterbury, accompanied with other
Learned and rev'rend fathers of his order,
Held a late court at Dunstable, fix miles
From Ampthil, where the Princefs lay; to which
She oft was cited by them, but appear'd not:
And to be short, for not appearance and
The King's late fcruple, by the main affent
Of all these learned men fhe was divorc'd,
And the late marriage made of none effect:
Since which, he was remov'd to Kimbolton,
Where the remains now fick.

2 Gen. Alas good lady!

The trumpets found; ftand close, the Queen is coming.


The Order of the Coronation.

1. A lively flourish of trumpets.

2. Then two Judges.

3. Lord Chancellor, with the purfe and mace before him? 4. Chorifters finging.

[Mufick. 5. Mayor of London, bearing the mace. Then Garter in his coat of arms, and on his head a gilt copper


6. Marquess of Dorfet, bearing a Scepter of gold, on his head a demi-coronal of gold. With him, the Earl of Surrey, bearing the rod of filver with the dove, crown'd with an Earl's coronet. Collars of


7. Duke of Suffolk, in his robe of eftate, his coronet on his head, bearing a long white wand, as High Steward. With him the Duke of Norfolk, with the rod of marshalship, a coronet on his head. Collars of SS.

8. A canopy born by four of the Cinque-Ports, under it the Queen in her robe; in her hair richly adorned


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