13. Scene z.]

KING HENRY VIII.

Ty'd 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. Proud lord, thou liest;

Within these forty hours Surrey durst better

Have burnt that tongue, than said so.

Sur. Thy ambition,

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 ;

Far from his succour, from the king, from all
That might have mercy on the fault thougav'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.

[feel

Sur. By my soul,
Your long coat, priest, protects you: thou should'st
My sword i' the life-blood of thee else. - My lords,
Can ye endure to hear this arrogance?

Wol. Speak on, sir;

I dare your worst objections: if I blush,

It is, to see a nobleman want manners. [at y 15 Sur. I'd rather want those, than my head. Ha First, that, without the king's assent, or knowled 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 e

20 To foreign princes, Ego et Rex meus
Was stillinscrib'd; in which you brought the ki
To be your servant.

Suf. Then, that, without the knowledge
Either of king or council, when you went
25 Ambassador to the emperor, you made bold
To carry into Flanders the great seal.

Sur. Item, you sent a large commission
To Gregory de Cassalis, to conclude,
Without the king's will, or the state's allowanc
30 A league between his highness and Ferrara.

And from this fellow? If we live thus tamely, 35 (Bywhat means got, I leave to yourownconscience

To be thus jaded by a piece of scarlet,
Farewell nobility; let his grace go forward,

And dare us with his cap, like larks1.

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,

Suf. That, out of mere ambition, you have caus Your holy hat to be stampt on the king's coin. Sur. Then, that you have sent innumerable su

stance

To furnish Rome, and to prepare the ways
You have for dignities; to the mere 3 undoing
Of all the kingdom. Many more there are;

Which, since they are of you, and odious,

40 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

You writ to the pope, against the king: your 45 So little of his great self.

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 your 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 [wench
Worse than the sacring bell2, when the brown
Lay kissing in your arms, lord cardinal. [man, 55 Nor. And so we'll leave you to your meditation

Wol. How much, methinks, I could despise this

But that I am bound in charity against it!

How to live better. For your stubborn answer,
About the giving back the great seal to us,

The hat of a cardinal was scarlet; and the method of daring larks was by small mirrors fastene on scarlet cloth, which engaged the attention of these birds while the fowler drew his net over them • The little bell, which is rung to give notice of the Host approaching when it is carried in procession

So fare you well, my little good lord cardinal.

[Exeunt all but Wolsey.

Crom. Last, that the lady A Whom the king hath in secre

Wol. So farewell to the little good you bear me. 5 This day was view'd in open,

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 blossoins,
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,

Going to chapel; and the voi
Only about her coronation.

Wol. There was the weight th
O Cromwell,

Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders,

These 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.

10 The king has gone beyond me
In that one woman I have lost
No sun shall ever usher forth
Or gild again the noble troops
Upon my smiles. Go, get thee f
151 am a poor fallen man, unwor
To be thy lord and master: S
That sun, I pray, may never so
What, and how true thou art
Some little memory of me will

Vain pomp, and glory of this world! I hate ye; 20 I know his noble nature, not t

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,

Thy hopeful service perish too
Neglect him not; make use n
For thine own future safety.

That sweet aspect of princes, and our ruin,

Crom. O my lord,

More pangs and fears than wars or women have; 25 Must I then leave you? must

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 carthly dignities,

[me,

So good, so noble, and so true Bear witness, all that have not With what a sorrow Cromwell The king shall have my servic 30 For ever, and for ever, shall b Wol. Cromwell, I did not th In all my miseries; but thou ha Out of thy honest truth, to plaLet's dryour eyes: And thus far h 35 And, when I am forgotten, ar And sleep in dull cold marble, Of me more must be heard of,Say, Wolsey, that once trod 1 And sounded all the depths and s

A still and quiet conscience. The king has cur'd 40 Found thee a way, out of his wr

I humblythank 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, Croinwell, '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?

Crom. The heaviest and the worst,

Wol. God bless him!

Is your displeasure with the king.

A sure and safe one, though thy
Mark but my fall, and that tha
Cromwell, I charge thee, fling
By that sin fell the angels, how
45 1 he image of his Maker, hope to
Love thyself last: cherish tho
Corruption wins not more than
Still in thy right hand carry go
To silence envious tongues. Be
50 Let all the ends, thou aim'st at,
Thy
s. and truth's; then
Cromwell,

God's,

Thou fall'st a blessed martyr. And,-Pr'ythee, lead me in: 55 There take an inventory of all ]

Crom. The next is, that Sir Thomas More is chosen To the last penny; 'tis the kimų

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 orphans' tears wept on him!
What more?

And my integrity to heaven, is I dare now call mine own. O Cro) Had I but serv'd my God with 601 scrv'd iny king, He would no Have left ine naked to mine en Crom. Good sir, have patienc Wol. So I have. Farewell The hopes of court! my hopes in

Crom. That Cranmer is return'd with welcome, 65

! The chancellor is the general guardian of orphans. This sentence was really utte

SCENE I.

A Street in Westminster.

ACT IV.

I am sure, have shewn at full their loyal minds;
As, let'em have their rights, they are ever forward, 15
In celebration of this day with shews,
Pageants, and sights of honour.

1 Gent. Never greater,

Nor, I'll assure you, better taken, sir.

2 Gent. May I be bold to ask what that contains, 20

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 high steward; next the duke of Norfolk,
To be earl marshal: you may read the rest.

2 Gent. I thank you, sir; had I not known those
custoins,

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
Learn'd 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.

25

6. Marquis Dorset, bearing a sceptre of go on his head a demi-coronal of gold. W him, the Earl of Surrey, bearing the of silver with the dove, crown'd with earl's coronet. Collars of SS.

7. Duke of Suffolk, in his robe of estate, coronet on his head, bearing a long wh wand, as high steward. With him Duke of Norfolk, with the rod of me shalship, a coronet on his head. Collars of S 8. A canopy borne by four of the Cinque-port under it the Queen in her robe; her ho richly adorn'd with pearl, crowned. C each side her, the bishops of London a Winchester.

10. Certain Ladies or Countesses, with plain ci clets of gold without flowers.

They pass over the stage in order and state

2 Gent. A royal train, believe me. These Who's that, that bears the sceptre? (know;1 Gent. Marquis Dorset:

And that the earl of Surrey, with the rod.
2 Gent. A bold brave gentleman. That should b
The duke of Suffolk.

1 Gent. "Tis the same, high-steward.
30 2 Gent. And that my lord of Norfolk.
1 Gent. Yes.

2 Gent. Heaven bless thee! [Looking ontheQueen Thou hast the sweetest face I ever look'd on.Sir, as I have a soul, she is an angel; 35 Our king has all the Indies in his arms, And more, and richer, when he strains that lady I cannot blame his conscience.

1 Gent. They, that bear

The cloth of honour over her, are four barons

40 Of the Cinque-ports.

[her

2 Gent. Those men are happy; so are all are nea I take it, she that carries up the train,

Is that old noble lady, dutchess of Norfolk.

45

1 Gent. It is; and all the rest are countesses. 2 Gent. Their coronets say so. These are star

The trumpets sound: stand close; the queen is co

And, sometimes, falling ones.

[indeed

ming.

[Hautboys.

1 Gent. No more of that.

[peta

[Exit Procession, with a great flourish of trun

1 Gent. Alas, good lady!

Enter a third Gentleman.

50 God save you, sir! Where have you been broiling 3 Gent. Among the crowd i' the abbey; where Could not be wedg'd in more: I am stifled [finge With the mere rankness of their joy.

before him.

2 Gent. You saw the ceremony?

4. Choristers singing.

[Music. 55 3 Gent. That I did.

!

5. Mayor of London, bearing the mace. Then

Garter, in his coat of arms, and on his
head a gilt copper crown.

1 Gent. How was it?

A 11

SCENE
Kimbolton.
Enter Katharine, Dowager, sick, le
her Gentleman-usher, and Patie

Grif. How does your grace?
15 Kath. O, Griffith, sick to deatl
My legs, like loaded branches, b
Willing to leave their burden: R
So, now, methinks, I feel a littl
Did'st thou not tell me, Griffith, a
20 That the great child of honour, c
Was dead?

Cast her fair eyes to heaven, and pray'd devoutly. 25 If well, he stepp'd before me, ha

Then rose again, and bow'd her to the people;

The rod, and bird of peace, and all such emblems 30 (As a man sorely tainted) to his a

Were those that went on each side of the queen? 3 Gent. Stokesly, and Gardiner, the one, of 45 Continual meditations, tears, and

1i. e. like battering-rams. Happily seems to mean on this occasion-peradventure by short stages. i. e. (says Mr. Tollet) He was a man of an unbounded stomach, or h mself with princes, and, by suggestion to the king and the pope, he tyd, i. e. limited, and set bounds to the liberties and properties of all persons in the kingdom. That he from various passages in the play.

Men's evil manners live in brass; their virtues
We write in water2. May it please your highness 5
To hear me speak his good now?

Kath. Yes, good Griffith;

I were malicious else.

Grif. This cardinal,

And leave me here in wretchedness behind y
Grif. Madam, we are here.
10 Kath. It is not you I call for:
Saw you none enter, since I slept?
Grif. None, madam.

Kath. No? Saw you not, even now, a bles

troop

Invite me to a banquet; whose bright faces
Cast thousand beams upon me, like the sun?
They promis'd me eternal happiness;
And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I 1
I am not worthy yet to wear : I shall,

Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly
Was fashion'd to much honour. From his cradle,
He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one:
Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading:
Lofty and sour, to them that lov'd him not;
But, to those men that sought him, sweet as sum-15
And though he were unsatisfy'd in getting, [mer.
(Which was a sin) yet in bestowing, madam,
He was most princely: Ever witness for him
Those twins of learning, that he rais'd in you,
Ipswich, and Oxford! one of which fell with him, 20 Assuredly.
Unwilling to out-live the good he 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 dy'd, fearing God.

25

[drea

Grif. I am most joyful, madam, such go

Possess your fancy.

Kath. Bid the musick leave,

They are harsh and heavy to me. [Musick cea
Pat. Do you note,

How much her grace is alter'd on the sudder
How long her face is drawn? how pale she loo
And of an earthy cold? Mark her eyes.

Grif. She is going, wench; pray, pray,

Kath. After my death, I wish no other herald, 30 Pat. Heaven comfort her!

No other speaker of my living actions,

To keep mine honour from corruption,
But such an honest chronicler as Griffith.
Whom I most hated living, thou hast made me,
With thy religious truth, and modesty,
Now in his ashes honour: Peace be with him!-
Patience, be near me still; and set me lower:
I have not long to trouble thee.-Good Griffith,
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 musick.

Grif. She is asleep: Good wench, let's sit down

quiet,

Enter a Messenger.
Mes. An't like your grace,-
Kath. You are a sawcy fellow:
Deserve we no more reverence?

35 Grif. You are to blame,

Knowing, she will not lose her wonted greatne
To use so rude behaviour: go to, kneel.

Mes, I humblydo entreat your highness' pard
My haste made me unmannerly : There is stay
40 A gentleman, sent from the king, to see you.
Kath. Admit him entrance, Griffith: But
Let me ne'er see again.

[fell [Exeunt Griffith, and Messeng

Re-enter Griffith, with Capucius.

For fear we wake her:-Softly, gentle Patience. 45 If my sight fail not,

The vision. Enter, solemnly tripping, one after an

other, six personages, clad in white robes, wear

ing on their heads garlands of bays, and golden

wizards on their faces; branches of bays, or

You should be lord ambassador from the empe
My royal nephew, and your name Capucius.
Cap. Madam, the same, your servant.
Kath, O my lord,

palm, in their hands. They first congee unto her, 50 The times, and titles, now are alter'd strange

then dance; and, at certain changes, the first two

With me, since first you knew me. But, I pa

hold a spare garland over her head; at which,

What is your pleasure with me?

[y

the other four make reverend curtsies; then the

Cap. Noble lady,

two, that held the garland, deliver the same to

First, mine own service to your grace; the ne

the other next two, who observe the same order in 55 The king's request that I would visit you;

their changes, and holding the garland over her head; which done, they deliver the same garland to the last two, who likewise observe the same

Who grieves much for your weakness, and by
Sends you his princely commendations,
And heartily entreats you take good comfort.

A criminal connection with women was anciently call'd the vice of the body. So, in Holinsh p. 1258, "he labour'd by all means to cleare mistresse Sanders of committing erill of her bodie w him." * Dr. Percy remarks, that "this reflection bears a great resemblance to a passage in Sir Th mas More's History of Richard III. where, speaking of the ungrateful turns which Jane Shore exp