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
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,

Wol. So farewell to the little good you bear

me.

But that I am bound in charity against it!

Nor. Those articles, my lord, are in the king's hand:

But, thus much, they are foul ones.
Wol.

And spotless, shall mine innocence arise,
When the king knows my truth.

Sur.

This cannot save 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 show a little honesty.

Wol.

Speak on, sir;

Have

I dare your worst objections: if I blush,
It is, to see a nobleman want manners.
Sur. I'd rather want those, than my head.
at you.
First, that, without the king's assent, or knowledge,
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 else To foreign princes, Ego et Rex meus

Was still inscrib'd; in which you brought the king To be your servant.

Suf. Then, that, without the knowledge Either of king or council, when you went 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 allowance,
A league between his highness and Ferrara.
Suf. That, out of mere ambition, you have caus'd
Your holy hat to be stamp'd on the king's coin.
Sur. Then, that you have sent innumerable sub-
stance,

(By what means got, I leave to your own conscience,)
To furnish Rome, and to prepare the ways
You have for dignities; to the mere undoing
Of all the kingdom. Many more there are ;
Which, since they are of you, and odious,
I will not taint my mouth with.
Cham.

O my lord,

Suf. Lord cardinal, the king's further pleasure is,

Because all those things, you have done of late
By your power legatine within this kingdom,
Fall into the compass of a præmunire,
That therefore such a writ be sued against you;
To forfeit all your goods, lands, tenements,
Chattels, and whatsoever, and to be

Out of the king's protection :
:- This is my charge.
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.
[Exeunt all but WOLSEY.

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 this world, I hate ye;
I feel my heart new opened: O, how wretched
Is that poor man, that hangs on princes' favours!
There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to,
That sweet aspéct 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.

---

Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell.
I know myself now; and I feel within me
A peace above all earthly dignities,
A still and quiet conscience. 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 sink a navy, too much honour:
O, 'tis a burden, Cromwell, '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?

Is your displeasure with the king.

God bless him!

Wol. Crom. The next is, that sir Thomas More is chosen Lord chancellor in your place.

Wol.

But he's a learned man.

That's somewhat sudden: 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 orphan's tears wept on 'em!
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 chapel; and the voice is now
Only about her coronation.

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:
No sun 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 fallen man, unworthy now
To be thy lord and master: Seek the king;
That sun,

pray, may never set! I have told him What, and how true thou art: he will advance thee; 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 For thine own future safety.

Crom.

O my lord,

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 sorrow 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 hast 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 more must be heard of, say, I taught thee;
Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory,
And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour, -
Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in ;
A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it.
Mark but my fall, and that that ruin'd me.
Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition;
By that sin fell the angels; how can man then,
The image of his Maker, hope to win by't?
Love thyself last cherish those hearts that hate thee;
Corruption wins not more than honesty.
Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace,

:

To silence 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'st, O Cromwell,

Thou fall'st a blessed martyr. Serve the king;

And, Pr'ythee, lead me in :--

SCENE I. A Street in Westminster.

Enter Two Gentlemen, meeting.

1 Gent. You are well met once again. 2 Gent.

And so are you. 1 Gent. You come to take your stand here, and behold

The lady Anne pass from her coronation?

2 Gent. 'Tis all my business. At our last en

Of Canterbury, accompanied with other
Learned 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 removed to Kimbolton,
Where she remains now, sick.
2 Gent.

Alas, good lady! [Trumpets.

The trumpets sound: stand close, the queen is coming.

THE ORDER OF THE PROCESSION.

A lively flourish of Trumpets: then, enter 1. Two Judges.

2. Lord Chancellor, with the purse and mace before

1 Gent.

Never greater,

Nor, I'll assure you, better taken, sir. 2 Gent. May I be bold to ask what that contains, That paper in your hand?

Yes; 'tis the list

1 Gent.
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,
He to be earl marshal: you may read the rest.

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

[Musick. Mayor of London bearing the mace. Then Garter, in his coat of arms, and, on his head, a gilt copper crown.

5. Marquis Dorset, bearing a sceptre of gold, on his head a demi-coronal of gold. With him, the Earl of Surrey, bearing the rod of silver with the dove, crowned with an earl's coronet. Collars of SS.

6.

Duke of Suffolk, in his robe of estate, his coronet on his head, bearing a long white wand, as high-steward. With him, the Duke of Norfolk, with the rod of marshalship, a coronet on his head. Collars of SS.

Rr

If well, he stepp'd before me, happily,
For my example.
Grif.

With thy religious truth, and modesty,

Well, the voice goes, madam : For after the stout earl Northumberland Arrested him at York, and brought him forward (As a man sorely tainted,) to his answer, He fell sick suddenly, and grew so ill, He could not sit his mule.

Kath.

Alas, poor man!

Grif. At last, with easy roads, he came to Leicester,

Lodg'd in the abbey; where the reverend abbot,
With all his convent, honourably receiv'd him;
To whom he gave these words, O father abbot,
An old man, broken with the storms of state,
Is come to lay his weary bones among ye;
Give him a little earth for charity!

So went to bed: where eagerly his sickness
Pursu'd 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.

Kath. So may he rest; his faults lie gently on him! Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak him, And yet with charity, He was a man Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking Himself with princes; one, that by suggestion Ty'd all the kingdom: simony was fair play; His own opinion was his law: I'the presence He would say untruths; and be ever double, Both in his words and meaning: He was never, But where he meant to ruin, pitiful: His promises were, as he then was, mighty; But his performance, as he is now, nothing. Of his own body he was ill, and gave The clergy ill example.

Grif.

Noble madam,

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

Kath.

I were malicious else.

Yes, good Griffith;

Grif. This cardinal, 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 summer. 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 rais'd in you, Ipswich, and Oxford! one of which fell with him, Unwilling to outlive the good that 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 died, fearing God. Kath. After my death I wish no other herald, 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,

Softly, gentle Patience.

Grif. She is asleep: Good wench, let's sit down quiet, For fear we wake her; The Vision. Enter, solemnly tripping one after another, six Personages, clad in white robes, wearing on their heads garlands of bays, and golden vizards on their faces; branches of bays, or palm, in their hands. They first congee unto her, then dance; and at certain changes, the first two hold a spare garland over her head; at which, the other four make reverend court'sies; then the two, that held the garland, deliver the same to the other next two, who observe the same order in 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 order: at which, (as it were by inspiration,) she makes in her sleep signs of rejoicing, and holdeth up her hands to heaven: and so in their dancing The they vanish, carrying the garland with them. musick continues.

Kath. Spirits of peace, where are ye? Are ye all

Mess. An't like your grace, Kath. Deserve we no more reverence? Grif. You are to blame, Knowing, she will not lose her wonted greatness, To use so rude behaviour: go to, kneel.

Mess. I humbly do entreat your highness' pardon; My haste made me unmannerly: There is staying A gentleman, sent from the king, to see you. Kath. Admit him entrance, Griffith: But this fellow Le me ne'er see again.

[Exeunt GRIFFITH and Messenger

Cap.

Noble lady,

First, mine own service to your grace; the next,
The king's request that I would visit you;
Who grieves much for your weakness, and by me
Sends you his princely commendations,
And heartily entreats you take good comfort.

Kath. O my good lord, that comfort comes too late;

'Tis like a pardon after execution:

That gentle physick, given in time, had cur'd me; But now I am past all comforts here, but prayers. How does his highness?

Cap. Madam, in good health. Kath. So may he ever do! and ever flourish, When I shall dwell with worms, and my poor name Banish'd the kingdom! - Patience, is that letter, I caus'd you write, yet sent away?

Pat.

No, madam. Giving it to KATHARINE. Kath. Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliver This to my lord the king. Cap. Most willing, madam. Kath. In which I have commended to his goodness The model of our chaste loves, his young daughter :The dews of heaven fall thick in blessings on her! Beseeching him, to give her virtuous breeding; (She is young, and of a noble modest nature; I hope, she will deserve well;) and a little To love her for her mother's sake, that lov'd him,

Heaven knows how dearly. My next poor petition
Is, that his noble grace would have some pity
Upon my wretched women, that so long,
Have follow'd both my fortunes faithfully:
Of which there is not one, I dare avow,
(And now I should not lie,) but will deserve,
For virtue, and true beauty of the soul,
For honesty, and decent carriage,

A right good husband, let him be a noble ;
And, sure, those men are happy that shall have them,
The last is, for my men;- they are the poorest,
But poverty could never draw them from me ;-
That they may have their wages duly paid them,
And something over to remember me by ;
If heaven had pleas'd to have given me longer life.
And able means, we had not parted thus.
These are the whole contents: And, good my lord,
By that you love the dearest in this world,
As you wish christian peace to souls departed,
Stand these poor people's friend, and urge the king
To do me this last right.

Cap.

By heaven, I will; Or let me lose the fashion of a man!

Kath. I thank you, honest lord. Remember me In all humility unto his highness:

Say, his long trouble now is passing

Out of this world: tell him, in death I bless'd him,
For so I will.
Mine eyes grow dim. - Farewell,
My lord. — Griffith, farewell. Nay, Patience,
You must not leave me yet. I must to bed;
Call in more women. - When I am dead, good

wench,

Let me be us'd with honour; strew me over
With maiden flowers, that all the world may know
I was a chaste wife to my grave: embalm me,
Then lay me forth: although unqueen'd, yet like
A queen, and daughter to a king, inter me.
I can no more.

[Exeunt, leading KATHARINE.

I must to him too,

Before he go to bed. I'll take my leave.

(As, they say, spirits do,) at midnight, have In them a wilder nature, than the business That seeks despatch by day.

Lov.

My lord, I love you ;
And durst commend a secret to your ear
Much weightier than this work. The queen's in
labour,

They say, in great extremity; and fear'd,
She'll with the labour end.

Gar.

The fruit, she goes with,

I pray for heartily; that it may find
Good time, and live: but for the stock, sir Thomas,
I wish it grubb'd up now.

Lov.

Methinks, I could Cry the amen; and yet my conscience says She's a good creature, and, sweet lady, does

Deserve our better wishes.

Gar.

But, sir, sir,