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His eye against the moon: in most strange pos

tures

We have seen him set himself.

K. Hen. It may well be;
There is a mutiny in his mind. This morning
Papers of state he sent me to peruse,

As I requir'd; And, wot you, what I found
There; on my conscience, put unwittingly?
Forsooth, an inventory, thus importing,—
The several parcels of his plate, his treasure,
Tach stuffs, and ornaments of household; which
1 find at such proud rate, that it out-speaks
Possession of a subject.

Nor. It's heaven's will;

Some spirit put this paper in the packet,
To bless your eye withal.

K. Hen. If we did think

His contemplation were above the earth,
And fix'd on spiritual object, he should still
Dwell in bis musings: but I am afraid,
His thinkings are below the moon, not worth
His serious considering.

[He takes his seat, and whispers LovELL, who goes to WOLSEY. Wol. Heaven forgive me! Ever God bless your highness!

K. Hen. Good my lord,

You are full of heavenly stuff, and bear the inventory

Of your best graces in your mind; the which You were now running o'er; you have scarce time

To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span,
To keep your earthly audit: sure, in that
I deem you an ill husband; and am glad
To bave you therein my companion.
Wol. Sir,

For holy offices I have a time; a time
To think upon the part of business, which
I bear i'the state; and nature does require
Her times of preservation, which, perforce,
I, her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal,
Must give my tendance to.

K. Her. You have said well.

K. Hen. Fairly answer'd;

A loyal and obedient subject is
Therein illustrated: The honour of it
Does pay the act of it; as, i'the contrary,
The foulness is the punishment. I presume,
That, as my hand has open'd bounty to you,
My heart dropp'd love, my power rain'd honour,

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and

Appear in forms more horrid; yet my duty,
As doth a rock against the chiding flood,
Should the approach of this wild river break,
And stand unshaken your's.

K. Hen. 'Tis nobly spoken:
Take notice, lords, he has a loyal breast,
For you have seen him open't.-Read o'er this;
[Giving him papers.
And, after, this: and then to breakfast, with
What appetite you have.

[Exit KING, frowning upon Cardinal WOLSEY the Noble throng after him, smiling and whispering.

Wol. What should this mean?

What sudden anger's this? how have I reap'd it?
He parted frowning from me, as if ruin
Leap'd from bis eyes: So looks the chafed

lion

Upon the daring huntsman that has gall'd him; Then makes him nothing. I must read this

paver:

I fear the story of his anger.-'Tis so;

This paper has undone me :--'Tis the account

Wal. And ever may your highness yoke to- Of all that world of wealth I have drawn to

gether,

As I wil lend you cause, my doing wel

With my well saying!

K. Hen. 'Tis well said again;

And 'tis a kind of good deed, to say well:
And yet words are no deeds. My father lov'd

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could

My studied purposes requite; which went
Beyond all man's endeavours :-my endeavours
Have ever come too short of my desires,
Yet, fil'd with my abilities: Mine own ends
Have been mine so, that evermore they pointed
To the good of your most sacred person, and
The proût of the state. For your great graces
Heap'd upon me, poor undeserver, I
Can nothing render but allegiant thanks;
My prayers to heaven for you; my loyalty,
Which ever has, and ever shall be growing,
Till death, that winter kill it.

• Know.

gether

For mine own ends; indeed, to gain the pope

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ness;

And, from that full meridian of my glory,
I baste now to my setting: I shall fall
Like a bright exhalation in the evening,
And no man see ine more.

Re-enter the Dukes of NORFOLK, and Sep-
FOLK, the Earl of SURREY, and the Lord
CHAMBERLAIN.

Nor. Hear the king's pleasure, cardinal: who commands you

To render up the great seal presently
Into our hands; and to confine yourself
To Asher-house, my lord of Winchester's,
Till you hear further from his highness.

Wol. Stay,

Where's your commission, lords? words cannot carry

Authority so weighty.

Suf. Who dare cross them?

Bearing the king's will from his mouth expressly Wol. Till I find more than will, or words, to do it,

• Esher in Surrey.

(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 every thing may bring my ruin!
Follow your envious courses, men of malice;
You have Christian warrant for them, 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

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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 poYou sent me deputy for Ireland; [licy!

Far from his succour, from the king, from`ali That might have mercy on the fault thon 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;
That I, 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,

Your long coat, priest, protects you; thou should'st 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,
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. All goodness

Is poison to thy stomach.

Sur. 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,

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
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
Worse than the scaring bell, 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!

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

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,
You'll show a little honesty.

Wol. Speak on, Sir:

I dare your worst objections: if I 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,

You wrought to be a legate; by which power
You maim'd the jurisdiction of all bishops.

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
To be your servant.

Suf. 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.

[king

Sur. 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. 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,

(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.

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, į— 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.

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, [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
His greatness is a ripening, nips his root,
And then he falls, as I do. I have ventur'd,

Nor. Those articles, my lord, are in the Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders,

king's hand:

But, thus much, they are foul ones.

Wol. So much fairer,

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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

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Neglect him not; make use now, and provide
For thine own future safety.
Crom. O my lord,

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: Oh! how wretched Must I then leave you? Must I needs forego
Is that poor man, that hangs on princes' fa-So good, so noble, and so true a master?

vours!

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.-

Enter CROMWELL, amazedly.

Why, how now, Cromwell?

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

At my misfortunes? can thy spirit wonder,

A great man should decline? Nay, an you weep,

I am fallen indeed.

Crom. How does your grace?

Wol. Why, well;

Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell.

I know myself now; and I feel within me
A peace above all earthly dignities,
A still and quiet conscience.

cur'd me

The king has

I humbly thank his grace; and from these
shoulders,

These ruin'd pillars, out of pity, taken
A load would sink a navy, to 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,
thinks,

(Out of a fortitude of soul I feel,)

To endure more miseries, and greater far,
Than my weak-bearted enemies dare offer.
What news abroad?

Crom. The heaviest, and the worst,
Is your displeasure with the king.
Wol. God bless him!

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 your's.

Wol. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a

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Found thee a way out of his wreck, to rise in:
A sure and safe one, though thy master
miss'd it.

Mark but my fall, and that that ruin’d me.
Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition;
By that sin fell the angels, how can man then,
The image of his Maker, hope to win by't ?
Love thyself last cherish those hearts that bate
thee;

Corruption wins not more than honesty,
Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace,
me-To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear
[try's,
Let all the ends, thou aim'st at, be thy coun-
Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, O

not:

Cromwell,

Thou fall'st a blessed martyr. Serve the king;
And, Pr'ythee, lead me in :

There take an inventory of all I have,
To the last penny: 'tis the king's: my robe,

Crom. The next is, that Sir Thomas More is And my integrity to heaven, is all

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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.

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, Crom-

well;

I am a poor fallen man, unworthy now
To be thy lord and master: Seek the king;
That sun, I pray, may never set! I have 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 service perish too: Good well,

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This general joy.

2 Gent. 'Tis well: the citizens,

I am sure, bave shown at full their royal minds;
As, let them have their rights, they are ever for
ward

In celebration of this day with shows,
Pageants, and sights of honour.

1 Gent. Never greater,

Crom-Nor, I'll assure you, better taken, Sir.

• The chancellor is the guardian of orphans.

• Interest.

+ This sentence was really uttered by Wolary.

2 Gent. May I be bold to ask what that con- And more, and richer, when he strains that

tains,

That paper in your hand?

1 Gent. Yes; 'tis the list

Of those, that claim their offices this day,

By custom of the coronation.

The duke of Suffolk is the first, and claims

To be bigh steward; next the duke of Norfolk,

He to be earl marshal; you may read the rest. 2 Gent. I thank you, Sir; had I not known those customs,

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

The princess dowager! how goes her business? 1 Gent. That I can tell you too. The archbishop

Of Canterbury, accompanied with other
Learned and reverend fathers of his order,
Held a late court at Dunstable, six miles off
From Ampthill, where the princess 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 scruple, by the main assent
Of all these learned men she was divorc'd,
And the late marriage made of none effect:
Since which, she was remov'd to Kimbolton,
Where she remains now sick.

[Trumpets.

2 Gent. Alas, good lady!The trumpets sound: stand close, the queen is coming.

THE ORDER OF THE PROCESSION. A lively flourish of Trumpets; then enter 1. Two Judges.

2. The Lord Chancellor, with the purse and mace before him.

3. Choristers singing. [Music. 4. Mayor of London bearing the mace. Then Garter, in his coat of arms, and on his head, a gilt copper crown. 5. Marquis Dorset, bearing a sceptre of gold, on his head a demi-coronal of gold. With him the earl of Surrey, bearing the rod of silver with the dove,

crowned with an earl's coronet. Collars of SS.

6. Duke of Suffolk, in his robe of estate, 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 $S.

7. A canopy borne by four of the cinque. ports; under it, the Queen in her robe; in her hair richly adorned with pearl, crowned. On each side of her, the bishops of London, and Winchester. 8. The old duchess of Norfolk, in a coronal of gold, wrought with flowers, bearing the Queen's train.

9. Certain Ladies or Countesses, with plain circlets of gold without flowers.

lady:

I cannot blame his conscience. 1 Gent. They, that bear

The cloth of honour over her, are four barcus Of the Cinque-ports.

2 Gent. Those men are happy; and so are all, are near her.

I take it, she that carries up the train, Is that old noble lady, duchess of Norfolk. 1 Gent. It is; and all the rest are coun

tessses.

2 Gent. Their coronets say so. These are stars indeed;

And, sometimes, falling ones. 1 Gent. No more of that.

[Exit Procession, with a great flourish of trumpets.

Enter a third GENTLEMAN.

God save you, Sir! Where have you been broiling ?

2 Gent. Among the crowd i'the abbey; where a finger

Could not be wedg'd in more; and I am stifled With the mere rankness of their joy.

2 Gent. You saw

The ceremony?

3 Gent. That I did.

1 Gent. How was it?

3 Gent. Well worth the seeing.

2 Gent. Good Sir, speak it to us. 3 Gent. As well as I am able. stream

The rich

Of lords, and ladies, having brought the queen
To a prepar'd place in the choir, fell off
A distance from her; while her grace sat down
To rest a while, some half an hour, or so,
In a rich chair of state, opposing freely
The beauty of her person to the people.
Believe me, Sir, she is the goodliest woman
That ever lay by man: which when the people
Had the full view of, such a noise arose
As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest,
As loud, and to as many tunes: hats, cloaks,
(Doublets, I think,) flew up and had their
Been loose, this day they had been lost. Such

faces

joy

I never saw before. Great-bellied women
That had not half a week to go, like rams
In the old time of war, would shake the press,
And make them reel before them. No man
living

Could say, This is my wife, there; all were
So strangely in one piece.

woven

2 Gent. But, 'pray, what follow'd ?

2 Gent. At length her grace rose, and with Came to the altar; where she kneel'd, and, modest paces saint-like,

Cast her fair eyes to heaven, and pray'd de

voutly.

Then rose again, and bow'd her to the people :
When by the archbishop of Canterbury
She had all the royal makings of a queen;

2 Gent. A royal train, believe me.--These I As holy oil, Edward Confessor's crown,

know ;

Who's that, that bears the sceptre ?

1 Gent. Marquis Dorset:

And that the earl of Surrey, with the rod.

The rod, and bird of peace, and all such em

blems

Laid nobly on her; which perform'd, the choir,
With all the choicest music of the kingdom,

2 Gent. A bold brave gentleman: And that Together sung Te Deum. So she parted,

should be

The duke of Suffolk

1 Gent. 'Tis the same; high-steward. 2 Gent. And that my lord of Norfolk ? 1 Gent. Yes.

2 Gent. Heaven bless thee!

[Looking on the Queen. Thou hast the sweetest face I ever look'd on.Sir, as I have a soul, she is an angel; Our king has all the Indies in his arms,

• The marriage lately considered as valid.

And with the same full state pac'd back again To York-place, where the feast is held. 1 Gent. Sir, you

Must no more call it York-place, that is past:
For, since the cardinal fell, that title's lost;
'Tis now the king's, and call'd-Whitehall.
3 Gent. I know it;

But 'tis so lately alter'd, that the old name
Is fresh about me.

2 Gent. What two reverend bishops Were those that went on each side of the

queen ?

!

3 Gent, Stokesly and Gardiner; the one, of of his own body he was ill,⚫ and gave Winchester,

(Newly preferr'd from the king's secretary, The other, London.

2 Gent. He of Winchester

Is held no great good lover of the archbishop's, The virtuous Cranmer.

3 Gent. All the land knows that:

However, yet there's no great breach; when it comes,

Cranmer will and a friend will not shrink from hiin.

2 Gent. Who may that be, I pray you? 3 Gent. Thomas Cromwell;

A man in much esteem with the king, and truly
A worthy friend.-The king

Has made him master o'the jewel house,
And one, already, of the privy-council.
2 Gent. He will deserve more.

3 Gent. Yes, without all doubt.

Come, gentlemen, ye shall go my way, which
Is to the court, and there ye shall be my guests;
Something I can command. As I walk thither,
I'll tell ye more.

Both. You may command us, Sir. [Exeunt.

SCENE 11.-Kimbolton.

Enter KATHARINE, Dowager, sick; led between GRIFFITH and PATIENCE. Grif. How does your grace ? Kath. O Griffith, sick to death: My legs, like loaden branches, bow to the earth, Willing to leave their burden: Reach a chair ;So, now, inethiaks, I feel a little ease. Didst thou not tell me, Grifith, as thou led'st

me,

That the great child of honour, cardinal Wolsey, Was dead?

Grif. Yes, madam; but, I think, your grace, Out of the pain you suffer'd, gave no ear to't. Kath. Pr'ythee, good Grifith, tell me how he died:

If well, be stepp'd before me, happily •
For my example.

Grif. Well, the voice goes, madam :
For after the stout earl Northumberland
Arrested him at York, and brought him forward
(As a man sorely tainted,) to his answer,
He fell sick suddenly, and grew so ill,
He could not sit his mule.

Kath. Alas! poor man!

Grif. At last, with easy roads, he came to
Leicester,

Lodg'd in the abbey; where the reverend abbot,
With all his convent, honourably receiv'd him;
To whom he gave these words,-O father abbot,
An old man, broken with the storms of state,
Is come to lay his weary bones among ye;
Give him a little earth for charity!
So went to bed where eagerly his sickness
Pursued him still; and, three nights after this,
About the hour of eight, (which he himself
Foretold should be his last,) full of repentance
Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows,
He gave his honours to the world again,
His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace.
Kath. So may he rest; his faults lie gently
on him!

Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak him,

And yet with charity,-He was a man
Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking
Himself with princes; one, that by suggestion
Tied all the kingdom: simony was fair play;
His own opinion was his law: l'the presence
He would say untruths; and be ever double,
Both in his words and meaning: He was never,
But where he meant to ruin, pitiful:
His promises were, as he then was, mighty;
But his performance, as he is now, nothing.

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The clergy ill example.

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Unwilling to outlive the good that did it ;
The other, though unfinish'd, yet so famous,
So excellent in art, and still so rising,
That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.
His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him;
For then, and not till then, he felt himself,
And found the blessedness of being little :
And, to add greater honours to his age
Than man could give him, he died, fearing
God.

Kath. After my death 1 wish no other herald,
No other speaker of my living actions,
To keep mine honour from corruption,
But such an honest chronicler as Grifith.
Whom I most hated living, thou hast made me,
With thy religious truth, and modesty,
Now in his ashes honour :

him!

Peace be with

Patience, be near me still; and set me lower :
I have not long to trouble thee.-Good Grifith,
Cause the musicians play me that sad note
I nam'd my knell, whilst I sit meditating
On that celestial harmony I go to.

Sad and solemn music.

Grif. She is asleep: Good wench, let's sit down quiet, For fear we wake her ;-Softly, gentle Patience.

The Vision. Enter, solemnly tripping one after another, six Personages, clad in white robes, wearing on their heads garlands of bays, and golden vizards on their faces, branches of bays, or palm, in their hands. They first congee unto her, then dance; and, at certain changes, the first two hold a spare garland over her head; at whick, the other four make reverend court'sies, then the two that held the garland, deliver the same to the other next two, who obsertt the same order in their changes, and welding the garland over her head: which done, they deliver the same garland to the last two, who likewise observe the same order; at which, (as it were by inspiration,¦ ske makes in her sleep signs of rejoicing, and holdeth up her hands to heaven: and sa in their dancing they vanish, carrying the garland with them. The music CONtinues.

Kath. Spirits of peace, where are ye? Are ye all gone?

And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye? Grif. Madam, we are here.

Kath. It is not you I call for. Saw ye none enter, since I slept ? Grif. None, madam.

Set a lewd example in his own person Formed for. ¡ Ipswich

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