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Anne attend bear better Bishop bless Buck Buckingham cardinal cause Cham comes conscience court Cran Cranmer Crom Cromwell dare duke Enter exeunt exit fair fall father favour fear follows further Gent give grace grow hand hath head hear heart heaven Henry highness holy honour hope hour judge Kath Katharine keep King king's lady late learned leave live looks lord lord cardinal LORD CHAMBERLAIN Lovell madam malice master mean mind ness never noble NORFOLK once pass peace person pity play pleasure poor pray present princes queen royal Sands SCENE sent Sir Thomas soul speak stand strange sure tell thank thee There's thing thou thought tongue true truth virtue wish witness Wolsey woman
Pagina 156 - 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.
Pagina 158 - And though he were unsatisfied in getting, (Which was a sin,) yet, in bestowing, madam, He was most princely : Ever witness for him Those twins of learning, that he...
Pagina 139 - 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...
Pagina 135 - I have ventured, Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, 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 me Weary, and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
Pagina 141 - Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not...
Pagina 127 - s holiness. Nay then, farewell! I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness; And from that full meridian of my glory, I haste now to my setting: I shall fall Like a bright exhalation in the evening, And no man see me more.
Pagina 136 - O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours ! 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.