Whilft your great goodness, out of holy pity,
Abfolv'd him with an axe.

Wol. This, and all else

This talking lord can lay upon my credit,
I answer, is most falfe. The Duke by law
Found his deferts. How innocent I was
From any private malice in his end,
His noble jury and foul caufe can witness.
If I lov'd many words, lord, I fhould tell you,
You have as little honefty as honour;
That I, i'th' way of loyalty and truth
Toward the King, my ever-royal master,
Dare mate a founder man than Surrey can be,
And all that love his follies.

Sur. By my foul,

Your long coat, prieft, protects you; thou should't feel
My fword i'th' life-blood of thee elfe. My lords,
Can ye endure to hear this arrogance ?

And from this fellow? if we live thus tamely,
To be thus jaded by a piece of scarlet,
Farewel, nobility; let his Grace go forward,
And dare us with his cap, like larks.
Wol. All goodness

Is poifon to thy ftomach.

Sur. Yes, that goodness

Of gleaning all the land's wealth into one,

Into your own hands, Card'nal, by extortion:

The goodness of your intercepted packets

You writ to th' Pope, against the King; your goodness,
Since you provoke me, fhall be most notorious.
My lord of Norfolk, as you're truly noble,
As you refpect the common good, the state
Of our defpis'd nobility, our iffues,
Who, if he live, will scarce be gentlemen;
Produce the grand fum of his fins, the articles
Collected from his life. I'll startle you, (15)

Q4

(15) Worfe than the fearing Bell,

Worfe

-] This abfurd Reading

reftor'd,

has only found place in Mr. Pope's two Editions. I have

Worfe than the facring bell, when the brown wench Lay kiffing in your arms, lord Cardinal.

Wol. How much, methinks, I could defpife 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 spotlefs, fhall 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 fhew a little honefty.

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 affent, or knowledge,
You wrought to be a legat; by which power
You maim'd the jurifdiction of all bishops.

Nor. Then, that in all you writ to Rome, or else
To foreign Princes, Ego & Rex meus

Was ftill 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 Ambaffador to th' Emperor, you made bold To carry into Flanders the great Seal.

Sur. Item, You fent a large commiffion

reftor'd, from all the best Copies, facring Bell. That Gentleman, fure, fhould know, that in Roman Catholick Countries the little Bell, which is rung to give Notice of the Hofte approaching when it is carried in proceffion, as also in other Offices of that Church, call'd, the Sacring, or Confecration Bell; from he French Word, Sacrer.

То

To Gregory de Caffado, to conclude,

Without the King's will or the ftate's allowance,
A league between his Highness and Ferrara.

Suf. That out of meer ambition, you have made
Your holy hat be ftampt on the King's coin.

Sur. Then, that you have fent innumerable subftance

(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.

Cham. O, my lord,

Prefs 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 see him
So little of his great felf.

Sur. I forgive him.

Suf. Lord Cardinal, the King's further pleasure is,
(Because. all thofe things you have done of late,
By your pow'r legatine within this kingdom,
Fall in the compafs of a Præmunire)

That therefore fuch a writ be fu'd against you,
To forfeit all your goods, lands, tenements,
Chattels, and whatfoever, and to be (16)
Out of the King's protection. This is my charge.
Nor. And fo we'll leave you to your meditations

(16) Castles, and whatsoever,] I have ventur'd to substitute Chattles here, as the Author's genuine Word, for this good Reafon because, as our Law-books inform us, the Judgment in a Writ of Pramunire is, that the Defendant shall be from thenceforth out of the King's Protection; and his Lands and Tenements, Goods and CHATTELS forfeited to the King; and that his Body hall remain in prifon at the King's pleasure. But be caufe it may obje&ted, that Shakespeare had no Acquaintance with the Law-books, it will be proper to take notice, that this very Defcription of the Pramunire is fet out by Holingshead in his Life of K. Henry VIII. p. 909.

How to live better. For your ftubborn answer,
About the giving back the great Seal to us,

The King fhall know it; and, no doubt, fhall thank

you.

So fare you well, my little good lord Cardinal.

[Exeunt all but Wolfey.
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 froft, a killing frost;
And when he thinks, good eafie man, full furely
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 fummers 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 fervice, to the mercy
Of a rude stream, that muft for ever hide me.
Vain pomp and glory of this 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 fmile we would aspire to,
That fweet aspect of Princes, and our ruin,
More pangs and fears than war or women have;
And, when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,
Never to hope again.

Enter Cromwell, flanding amaz'd.

Why, how now, Cromwell?

Crom. I have no power to speak, Sir.
Wel. What, amaz'd

At my misfortunes? can thy fpirit wonder,
A great man fhould decline? nay, if you weep,

I'm fallen indeed.

Crom. How does your Grace?

Wol.

Wol. Why, well;

Never fo truly happy, my good Cromwell.

I know myself 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,
Thefe ruin'd pillars, out of pity taken

A load would fink a navy, too much honour.
O, 'tis a burden, Cromwell, '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 miferies, 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 fudden

May he continue

But he's a learned man.
Long in his Highnefs' favour, and do juftice
For truth's fake and his confcience; that his bones,
When he has run his courfe, and fleeps in bleffings,
May have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on him!
What more?

Crom. That Cranmer is return'd with welcome;
Inftall'd Lord Archbishop of Canterbury.

Wol. That's news, indeed.

Crom. Laft, that the lady Anne,

Whom the King hath in fecrecy 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

Cromwell,

L

The