Within these forty hours Surrey durft better
Have burnt that tongue, than faid fo.
Sur. Thy ambition,

Thou scarlet fin, robb'd this bewailing land
Of noble Buckingham, my father-in-law.
The heads of all thy brother cardinals,

(With thee, and all thy beft parts bound together,) Weigh'd not a hair of his. Plague on your policy! You fent me deputy for Ireland,

Far from his fuccour, from the king, from all, That might have mercy on the fault, thou gav'ft him; Whilft your great goodness, out of holy pity, Abfolv'd him with an ax.

Wol. This, and all else

This talking lord can lay upon my credit,
I answer, is moft 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 have as little honefty as honour;
That I, in the way of loyalty and truth
Toward the king, my ever royal master,

you,

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'st

feel

My fword i'the 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.

Wel. All goodness
Is poifon to thy ftomach.

Sur. Yes, that goodness

Of

Of gleaning all the land's wealth into one,
Into your own hands, cardinal, by extortion;
The goodness of your intercepted packets

You writ to the pope, against the king: your goodness,
Since you provoke me, fhall be most notorious.
My lord of Norfolk,-as you are truly noble,
As you respect the common good, the state
Of our despis'd nobility, our iffues,

Who, if he live, will fcarce be gentlemen,-
Produce the grand fum of his fins, the articles.
Collected from his life.-I'll startle you,

7 Worse 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 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. 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 honesty.

Wol. Speak on, fir;

I dare your worft objections. If I blush,

7 Worfe than the facring bell,-] The little bell, which is rung to give notice of the Hot approaching when it is carried in proceffion, as also in other offices of the Romish church, is called the facring, or confecration bell; from the French word, facrer.

So in Heywood's Rape of Lucrece, 1614,

"Love is perhaps the facring bell,
"That rings all in to heaven or hell."

THEOBALD.

STEEVENS.

It

It is to fee a nobleman want manners.

Sur. I'd rather want thofe, than my head. Have

at you.

First, that, without the king's affent, or knowledge,
You wrought to be a legate; 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. Then, that, without the knowledge
Either of king or council, when you went
Ambaffador to the emperor, you made bold
To carry into Flanders the great feal.
Sur. Item. You fent a large commiffion
To Gregory de Caffalis, to conclude,
Without the king's will, or the ftate's allowance,
A league between his highnefs and Ferrara.

Suf. That our of mere ambition, you have made.
Your holy hat to be ftampt on the king's coin.
Sur. Then, that you have fent innumerable fub-
ftance,

(By what means got, I leave to your own confcience)
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, 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 lie open to the laws; let them,

Not you, correct him. My heart weeps to fee him
So little of his great felf.

Sur. I forgive him.

Suf. Lord cardinal, the king's further pleasure is,Becaufe all thofe things, you have done of late, By your power legatine within this kingdom,

Fall

Fall in the compass 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

Out of the king's protection:-This is my charge. Nor. And fo we'll leave you to your meditations How to live better. For your ftubborn answer, About the giving back the great feal 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 greatnefs! This is the state of man; To-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow bloffoms, And bears his blufhing honours thick upon him: The third day, comes a froft, a killing frost; And-when he thinks, good easy man, full furely His greatness is a ripening,- nips his root,

• Chattels, and whatsoever,] In former editions,

Caftles, and whatsoever,

And

I have ventured to fubftitute chattels here, as the author's genuine word, because the judgment in a writ of Pramunire is, that the defendant fhall be out of the king's protection; and his lands and tenements, goods and CHATTELS forfeited to the king; and that his body fhall remain in prifon at the king's pleafure. This very defcription of the Præmunire is fet out by Holinfhead in his Life of K. Henry VIII. p. 909. THEOBALD.

9

nips his root,] As fpring frofts are not injurious to the roots of fruit-trees, I fhould imagine the poet wrote boot, i. e. that tender foot on which are the young leaves and bloms. The comparison, as well as expreffion of nips, is jufter too in this read. ing. He has the fame thought in Love's Labour loft.

Byron is like an envious neaping froft

That bites the first-born infants of the fpring.

So Milton in Sampson Agoniftes,

And then he falls, as I do. I have ventur'd,
Like little wanton boys, that fwim 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 must 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 smile we would aspire to,
That sweet aspect of princes, and our ruin,
More pangs and fears than wars or women have;
And, when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,
Never to hope again.-

Enter Cromwell, amazedly.

Why, how now, Cromwell?

Crom. I have no power to speak, fir.

Wol. What, amaz'd

At my misfortunes? can thy spirit wonder,
A great man should decline? Nay, an you weep,
I am fallen indeed.

Crom. How does your grace?

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,

Abortive as the first-born bloom of fpring,

Nip'd with the lagging rear of winter's froft,

which feems to be taken from the place in queftion. WARB. Here is a long note. But at last we may as well continue the ancient reading. Vernal frofts indeed do not kill the root, but then to nip the foots does not kill the tree or make it fall.. The metaphor will not in either reading correspond exactly with nature.

-and our ruin,] The old copy reads,

JOHNSON.

A