As you respect the common good, the state
Of our despis'd nobility, our issues,
Who, if he live, will fcarce be gentlemen,
Produce the grand sum of his fins, the articles
Collected from his life. I'll startle you
Worse than the sacring bell, when the brown wench
Lay kissing in your arms, Lord Cardinal.
Wol. How much methinks I could despise this man,
But that I'm bound in charity against it!
Nor. Those articles, my Lord, are in th' King's hand :
But thus much, they are foul ones.
Wol. So much fairer
And spotless shall mine innocence arife,
When the King knows my truth.
Sur. This cannot fave 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 shew a little honesty.
Wol. Speak on, Sir,
I dare your worst objections: if I blush,
It is to fee 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 Legat, by which power
You maim'd the jurisdiction of all Bishops.
Nor. Then, that in all you writ to Rome, or elfe
To foreign Princes, Ego & Rex meus
Was still infcrib'd; in which you brought the King
To be your fervant.
Suf. That without the knowledge
Either of King or council, when you went
Ambassador to th' Emperor, you made bold
To carry into Flanders the great seal.
Sur. Item, You sent a large commiffion
To Gregory de Caffalis, to conclude,
Without the King's will or the State's allowance,
A league between his Highness and Ferrara.
Suf. That out of meer ambition, you have made
Your holy hat be stamp'd on the King's coin.
Sur. That you have sent innumerable sums,
(By what means got, I leave to your own confcience)
To furnish Rome, and to prepare the ways
You have for dignities, to th' meer undoing
Of all the kingdom. Many more there are,
Which fince they are of you, and odious,
I will not taint my mouth with.
Press not a falling man too far; 'tis virtue:
His faults lye open to the laws; let them,
Not you, correct him. My heart weeps to fee him
So little of his great felf.
Suf. Lord Cardinal, the King's further pleasure is,
Because all those things you have done of late
By your pow'r legatine within this kingdom,
Fall in the compass of a Præmunire,
That therefore fuch a writ be fued against you;
To forfeit all your goods, lands, tenements,
And chattels whatsoever, and to be
Out of the King's protection.
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.
Wol. So farewel to the little good you bear me!
Farewel, a long farewel to all my greatness!
This is the state of man; to-day he puts forth
The tender leaves of hopes, to-morrow bloffoms,
And bears his blushing honours thick upon him:
The third day comes a frost, a killing froft,
And when he thinks, good eafie 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,
These many summers 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 service, 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 open'd. Oh, how wretched
Is that poor man that hangs on Princes' favours!
There is, betwixt that smile he would aspire to,
That sweet aspect of Princes, and his ruin,
More pangs and fears than war or women have :
And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,
Never to hope again.
Enter Cromwell, standing amaz'd.
Why, how now, Cromwell?
Crom. I have no pow'r to speak, Sir.
Wol. What, amaz'd
At my misfortunes? can thy spirit wonder
A great man should decline? nay, if You weep,
I'm fall'n indeed.
Crom. How does your Grace?
Wol. Why, well;
Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell.
I know my felf now, and I feel within me
A peace above all earthly dignities;
A ftill and quiet confcience. 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 fink a navy, too much honour.
O, 'tis a burden, Cromqvell, 'tis a burden
Too heavy for a man that hopes for heav'n.
Crom. I'm glad your Grace has made that right use of it,
Wol. I hope I have: I'm able now methinks,
Out of a fortitude of foul I feel,
T' endure more miseries, and greater far
Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer.
What news abroad?
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 chofen
Lord Chancellor in your place.
Wol. That's fomewhat sudden-
But he's a learned man. May he continue
Long in his Highness' favour, and do justice
For truth's fake and his confcience; that his bones,
When he has run his course and sleeps in blessings,
May have a tomb of orphans tears wept on him!
What more?
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 chappel; and the voice is now
Only about her coronation.
Wol. There was the weight that pull'd me down. O Crom
The King has gone beyond me: all my glories
In that one woman I have loft for ever.
No fun 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 fall'n man, unworthy now
To be thy Lord and master. Seek the King,
(That fun I pray may never set) I've told him
What and how true thou art; he will advance thee :
Some little memory of me will ftir him,
I know his noble nature, not to let
Thy hopeful service perish too. Good Cromwell,
Neglect him not; make use now, and provide
For thine own future safety.
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 forrow 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 haft forc'd me,
Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman.
Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell,
And when I am forgotten, as I shall be,
And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention
Of me must more be heard: say then I taught thee;
Say, Wolfey, that once trod the ways of glory,
And founded all the depths and shoals of honour,
Found thee a way out of his wreck to rise in :
A fure and safe one, though thy master miss'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 man then
(Tho' th' image of his maker) hope to win by't?
Love thy self last, cherish ev'n th' hearts that hate thee.
Corruption wins not more than honesty.
Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace
To filence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not.
Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's,
Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'ft, O Cromwell,
Thou fall'ft 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,
And my integrity to heav'n, is all
I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell,
Had I but serv'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. [Exeunt.
A Street in Westminster.
Enter two Gentlemen, meeting one another.
Ou're well met once again.
2 Gen. And so are you.
I Gen. You come to take your stand here, and behold
The Lady Anne pass from her coronation.
2 Gen. 'Tis all my business. At our last encounter,
The Duke of Buckingham came from his tryal.
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