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Install'd lord archbishop of Canterbury.

Wol. That's news indeed.

Crom.

Last, that the lady Anne,

Whom the king hath in secrecy long marry'd,
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, I 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.

O my lord,

Crom. 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, Crom-
well;

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:

There take an inventory of all I have,

To the last penny; 'tis the king's: my robe,

And my integrity to heaven, is all

I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Crom

well,

Had I but serv'd my God with half the zeal

I serv'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 heaven do dwell.

[Exeunt.

ACT IV. 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

counter,

The duke of Buckingham came from his trial. 1 Gent. 'Tis very true: but that time offer'd

sorrow;

This, general joy.

2 Gent.

'Tis well: the citizens,

I am sure, have shown at full their royal minds;
As, let them have their rights, they are ever for-

ward

In celebration of this day with shows,

Pageants, and sights of honour.

1 Gent.

Never greater,

Nor, I'll assure you, better taken, sir.

2 Gent. May I be bold to ask what that con

That

tains,

paper in your hand?

1 Gent.

Yes; 'tis the list

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 customs,

I should have been beholden to your paper.
But, I beseech you, what's become of Katharine,
The princess dowager? how goes her business?

1 Gent. That I can tell you too. The archbishop

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 remov'd 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

him.

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