To fome ears unrecounted. But, my Lords,
She is a gallant creature, and compleat
In mind and feature. I perfuade me, from her
Will fall fome bleffing to this land, which shall
In it be memoriz'd.
Sur. But will the King
Digeft this letter of the Cardinal's?
The Lord forbid !
Nor. Marry, Amen!
Suf. No, no:
There be more wafps, that buz about his nofe,
Will make this fting the fooner. Cardinal Campeius
Is ftol'n away to Rome, has ta'en no leave,
Hath left the cause o' th' King unhandled; and
Is pofted, as the agent of our Cardinal,
To fecond all his plot. I do affure you,
The King cry'd, ha! at this.
Cham. Now, God incense him;
And let him cry, ha, louder!
Nor. But, my Lord,
When returns Cranmer?
Suf. He is return'd with his opinions, which
Have fatisfy'd the King for his divorce,
Gather'd from all the famous colleges
Almoft in Christendom; fhortly, I believe,
His fecond marriage fhall be publish'd, and
Her coronation. Catharine no more
Shall be call'd Queen; but Princess Dowager,
And widow to Prince Arthur.
Nor. This fame Cranmer's
A worthy fellow, and hath ta'en much pain
In the King's business.
Suf. He has, and we shall see him
For it an Archbishop.
Nor. So I hear.
Suf. 'Tis fo.
other the best claffical poets. I'll only add here, that I could produce at least two thousand of our poet's verfes, that would be difturb'd by this modern, unreasonable, chafteness of metre,
Enter Wolfey and Cromwell,
Nor. Obferve, obferve, he's moody.
Wol. The packet, Cromwell,
Gave it you the King?
Crom. To his own hand, in's bed-chamber.
Wol. Look'd he o' th' infide of the paper?
Crom. Presently
He did unfeal them, and the first he view'd,
He did it with a serious mind; a heed
Was in his countenance. You he bade
Attend him here this morning.
Wol. Is he ready to come abroad?
Crom. I think, by this he is.
Wol. Leave me awhile.
It fhall be to the Dutchefs of Alanson,
The French King's fifter; he shall marry her.
Anne Bullen!-no, I'll no Anne Bullens for him,-
There's more in't than fair vifage-Bullen! —
No, we'll no Bullen!-fpeedily, I wish
To hear from Rome-the Marchionefs of Pembroke !—
Nor. He's discontented.
Suf. May be, he hears the King
Does whet his anger to him.
Sur. Sharp enough,
Lord, for thy justice!
Wol.[Afide] The late Queen's gentlewoman! a Knight's
To be her mistress' miftrefs! the Queen's Queen!-
This candle burns not clear: 'tis I must snuff it,
Then out it goes-what though I know her virtuous,
And well-deferving? yet I know her for
A fpleeny Lutheran; and not wholfome to
Our caufe, that the fhould lie i' th' bofom of
Our hard-rul'd King. Again, there is sprung up
An heretick, an arch one, Cranmer; one,
Hath crawl'd into the favour of the King,
And is his oracle.
Nor. He's vex'd at fomething.
Enter King, reading of a schedule; and Lovel.
Sur. I would, 'twere fomething that would fret the ftring, The mafter-cord of's heart!
Suf. The King, the King.
King. What piles of wealth hath he accumulated
To his own portion! what expence by th' hour
Seems to flow from him! how, i' th' name of thrift,
Does he rake this together? Now, my Lords;
Saw you the Cardinal?
Stood here obferving him. Some ftrange commotion
Is in his brain; he bites his lip, and starts;
Stops on a fudden, looks upon the ground,
Then lays his finger on his temple; ftrait,
Springs out into faft gait, then stops again;
Strikes his breast hard, and then anon he cafts
His eyes against the moon; in most strange poftures
We've seen him fet himself.
There is a mutiny in's mind. This morning
Papers of state he fent me to perufe,
As I requir'd; and, wot you, what I found
There, on my confcience put unwittingly?
Forfooth, an inventory, thus importing;
The feveral parcels of his plate, his treasure,
Rich ftuffs and ornaments of houshold, which
I find at fuch proud rate, that it out-speaks
Poffeffion of a subject.
Nor. It's heaven's will;
Some fpirit put this paper in the packet,
To bless your eye withal.
King. If we did think,
His contemplations were above the earth,
And fix'd on fpiritual objects, he should ftill
Dwell in his mufings; but, I am afraid,
His thinkings are below the moon, nor worth
His ferious confidering.
[He takes his feat, whisper's Lovel, who goes to Wolfey.
Wel. Heav'n forgive me-
Ever God bless your Highness!
King. Good my Lord,
You are full of heav'nly ftuff, 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 leifure a brief span,
To keep your earthly audit; fure, in that
I deem you an ill husband, and am glad
To have you therein my companion.
Wol. Sir,
For holy offices I have a time;
A time, to think upon the part of bufinefs
I bear i' th' state; and nature does require
Her times of preservation, which, perforce,
I her frail fon, amongst my brethren mortal,
Muft give my tendance to.
King. You have faid well.
Wol. And ever may your highness yoke together, As I will lend you caufe, my doing well
With my well faying!
King. 'Tis well faid again;
And 'tis a kind of good deed to fay well.
And yet words are no deeds. My father lov'd you ;
He faid, he did: and with his deed did crown
I've kept you next my heart; have not alone
Imploy'd you where high profits might come home;
But par'd my present havings, to bestow
My bounties upon you.
Wol. What should this mean?
Sur. The Lord increase this business!
King. Have I not made you
The prime man of the ftate? I pray you, tell me,
If what I now pronounce, you have found true:
And if you may confefs it, fay withal,
If you are bound to us, or no? what say you?
Wol. My Sovereign, I confefs, your royal graces
Shower'd on me daily have been more than could
My ftudied purposes requite, which went
Beyond all man's endeavours. My endeavours
Have ever come too fhort of my defires,
Yet, fill'd with my abilities, mine own ends
Have been mine fo, that evermore they pointed
To th' good of your moft facred perfon, and
The profit of the ftate: For your great graces
Heap'd upon me, poor undeferver, I
Can nothing render but allegiant thanks,
My prayers to heav'n for you; my loyalty,
Which ever has, and ever fhall be growing,
"Till death, that winter, kill it.
King. Fairly answer'd :
A loyal and obedient fubject is
Therein illuftrated; the honour of it
Does pay the act of it, as i' th' contrary
The foulness is the punishment. I prefume,
That as my hand has open'd bounty to you,
My heart dropp'd love; my pow'r rain'd honour, mòre
On you, than any; fo your hand and heart,
Your brain, and every function of your power,
Should, notwithstanding that your bond of duty,
As 'twere in love's particular, be more
To me, your friend, than any.
That for your Highness' good I ever labour'd,
More than mine own; that am I, have been, will be:
Though all the world fhould crack their duty to you,
And throw it from their foul; though perils did
Abound as thick as thought could make 'em, 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 ftand unshaken yours.
King. 'Tis nobly spoken;
Take notice, Lords, he has a loyal breaft,
For. you have feen him open't. Read o'er this,
[Giving him papers. And, after, this; and then to breakfast, with
[Exit King, frowning upon Cardinal Wolfey; the Nobles throng after him, whispering and smiling.
|