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Love. I must go, I can't stay-hark, there! Somebody calls me I am very much obliged to you, indeed; I am much obliged to you.
Lap. Go to the devil, like a covetous good for nothing villain as you are. Ramilie is in the right; however, I shall not quit the affair; for though I get nothing out of him, I am sure of my reward from the other side.
VI.-Cardinal Wolsey and Cromwell.
Wol. FAREWELL, a long farewell to all my greatness! This is the state of man; to day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope; tomorrow 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 shootAnd then he falls, as I do. I have ventur'd, 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 forever 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 regard 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. Why, how now, Cromwell?
Crom. I have no power to speak, Sir.
At my misfortunes? Can thy spirit wonder
Crom. How does your Grace?
Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell.
I know myself now, and I feel within me
A still and quiet conscience. The king has eas'd me,'
These ruined pillars, out of pity taken
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 soul I feel,
Than my weak hearted enemies dare offer.
Crom. The heaviest and the worst
Is your displeasure with the king.
Crom. The next is, that Sir Thomas Moore is chosen Lord Chancellor in your place.
Wol. That's somewhat sudden
But he's a learned man. May he continue
Crom. That Cranmer is return'd with welcome; Installed Lord Archbishop of Canterbury.
Wol. That's news indeed!
Crom. Last, that the lady Anne,
Whom the king hath in secrecy long married,
Wol. There was the weight that pulled me down: 0
The king has gone beyond me; all my glories
No sun shall ever usher forth my honours,
Or gild again the noble troops that waited
Some little memory of me will stir him,
(I know his noble nature) not to let
Thy hopeful service perish too. Good Cromwell;
Neglect him not; make use now and provide
Must I then leave you? Must I needs forego
Wol. Cromwell-I did not think to shed a tear
Thy God's and truth's; then, if thou fall'st, O Cromwell,
There take au inventory of all I have;
To the last penny, 'tis the king's. My robe,
I dare now call my own. Oh, Cromwell, Cromwell!
Had I but sery'd my God with half the zeal
Crom. Good Sir, have patience.
The hopes of court! My hopes in heaven do dwell.
VH.-Sir Charles and Lady Racket.
Lady R. OLA! I'm quite fatigued-I can hardly move
I don't love you.
Lady R. No. Dear me! This glove! Why don't you help me off with my glove? Pshaw! You awkward thing; let it alone; you an't fit to be about me. Reach me a chair-you have no compassion for me -I am so glad to sit down-Why do you drag me to routs?-You know I hate 'em.
Sir C. Oh! There's no existing, no breathing, unless one does as other people of fashion do.
Lady R. But I'm out of humor-I lost all my money. Sir C. How much?
Lady R. Three hundred.
Sir C. Never fret for that-I don't value three hundred pounds, to contribute to your happiness.
Lady R. Don't you? Not value three hundred pounds to please me?
Sir C. You know I don't.
Lady R. Ah! You fond fool!-But I hate gaming-It almost metamorphoses a woman into a fury.-Do you know that I was frightened at myself several times tonight? I had a huge oath at the very tip of my tongue.
Sir C. Had you ?
Lady R. I caught myself at it-and so I bit my lips. And then I was crammed up in a corner of the room, with such a strange party, at a whist table, looking at black and red spots-Did you mind 'em?
Sir C. You know I was busy elsewhere.
Lady R. There was that strange unaccountable woman, Mrs. Nightshade. She behaved so strangely to her husband-a poor, inoffensive, good natured, good sort of a good for nothing kind of a man. But she so teazed him"How could you play that card? Ah, you've a head, and so has a pin.-You're a numskull, you know you are-] -Ma'am he's the poorest head in the world; he does not know what he is about; you know you don't-Ah, fie! I'm asham'd of you !"
Sir C. She has served to divert you, I see.
Lady R. And then to crown all
Clackit, who runs on with an eternal volubility of nothing,
-there was my lady
out of all season, time and place-In the very midst of the game, she begins" Lard, Ma'am, I was apprehensive 1 should not be able to wait on your ladyship-my poor little dog, Pompey-the sweetest thing in the world!-A spade led! There's the knave.-I was fetching a walk, Me'em, the other morning in the Park-A fine frosty morning it was. I love frosty weather of all things-let me look at the last trick-and so Me'em, little Pompey-and if your ladyship was to see the dear creature pinched with the frost, and mincing his steps along the Mall-with his pretty little innocent face-I vow I don't know what to play. And so, Me'em, while I was talking to Captain Flimsey-your ladyship knows Captain Flimsey.-Nothing but rubbish in my hand!I can't help it. And so, Me'em, five odious frights of dogs beset my poor little Pompey-the dear creature has the heart of a lion; but who can resist five at once?—And so Pompey barked for assistance the hurt he received was upon his chest-the doctor would not advise him to venture out 'till the wound is healed, for fear of an inflammation. Pray what's trumps ?" Sir C. My dear, you'd make a most excellent actress. Lady R. Well, now, let's go to rest-but, Sir Charles, how shockingly you played that last rubber, when I stood looking over you!
Sir C. My love, I played the truth of the Lady R. No indeed, my dear, you played it wrong. Sir C. Po! Nonsense! You don't understand it. Lady R. I beg your pardon, I'm allowed to play better than you.
Sir C. All conceit, my dear! I was perfectly right. Lady R. No such thing, Sir Charles; the diamond was the play.
Sir C. Po! Po! Ridiculous! The club was the card, against the world.
Lady R. Oh! No, no, no-I say it was the diamond. Sir C. Madam, I` say it was the club.
Lady R. What do you fly into such a passion for? Sir C. Death and fury! do you think I don't know what I'm about? I tell you once more, the club was the judgment of it.
Lady R. May be so-have it your own way.
Sir C. Vexation! You're the strangest woman that ever lived; there's no conversing with you.-Look ye here, my