Then lays his finger on his temple; straight, K. Hen. If we did think His contemplation were above the earth, Wol. (He takes his seat, and whispers Lovell, who goes to Wolsey.) Heaven forgive me! Ever God bless your highness! K. Hen. Sir, K. Hen. K. Hen. "Tis well said again; And 'tis a kind of good deed, to say well: And yet words are no deeds. My father lov'd you: He said, he did; and with his deed did crown His word upon you. Since I had my office, I have kept you next my heart; have not alone Employ'd you where high profits might come home, But par'd my present havings, to bestow My bounties upon you. Wol. What should this mean? Sur. The Lord increase this business! (Aside.) K. Hen. Have I not made you The prime man of the state? I pray you, tell me, If what I now pronounce, you have found true: And, if you may confess it, say withal, If you are bound to us, or no. What say you? Wol. My sovereign, I confess, your royal graces, Shower'd on me daily, have been more than could My studied purposes requite; which went Beyond all men's endeavours ;-my endeavours Have ever come too short of my desires, Yet fil'd with my abilities: Mine own ends Have been mine so, that evermore they pointed To the good of your most sacred person, and The profit of the state. For your great graces Heap'd upon me, poor undeserver, I Can nothing render but allegiant thanks; My prayers to heaven for you; my loyalty, Which ever has, and ever shall be growing, Till death, that winter, kill it. Fairly answer'd; K. Hen. A loyal and obedient subject is Therein illustrated: The honour of it more On you, than any; so your band, and heart, Your brain, and every function of your power, Should, notwithstanding that your bond of duty, As 'twere in love's particular, be more To me, your friend, than any. I do profess, Wol. That for your highness' good I ever labour'd More than mine own; that am, have, and will be. Though all the world should crack their duty to you, And throw it from their soul; though perils did Abound, as thick as thought could make them, and Appear in forms more horrid; yet my duty, As doth a rock against the chiding flood, Should the approach of this wild river break, And stand unshaken yours. K. Hen. "Tis nobly spoken: Take notice, lords, he has a loyal breast, For you have seen him open't.-Read o'er this; (Giving him papers.) And, after, this: and then to breakfast, with What appetite you have. [Exit King, frowning upon Cardinal Wolsey: the Nobles throng after him, smiling, and whispering. What should this mean? What sudden anger's this? how have I reap'd it? He parted frowning from me, as if ruin Wol. Leap'd from his eyes: So looks the chafed lion Re-enter the Dukes of NORFOLK and SUFFOLK, the To render up the great seal presently Stay, Suf. Who dare cross them? Bearing the king's will from his mouth expressly? Wol. Till I find more than will, or words, to do it, (I mean, your malice,) know, officious lords, I dare, and must deny it. Now I feel Of what coarse metal ye are moulded,-envy. How eagerly ye follow my disgraces, As if it fed ye! and how sleek and wanton Ye appear in every thing may bring my ruin! Follow your envious courses, men of malice; You have christian warrant for them, and, no doubt, In time will find their fit rewards. That seal, SCENE 2.] KING HENRY VIII. You ask with such a violence, the king, It must be himself then. Far from his succour, from the king, from all, This, and all else His noble jury and foul cause can witness. If I lov'd many words, lord, I should tell you, Dare mate a sounder man than Surrey can be, Sur. By my soul, Your long coat, priest, protects you; thou should'st feel My sword i'the life-blood of thee else.-My lords, Is poison to thy stomach. All goodness Yes, that goodness Since you provoke me, shall be most notorious.- man, But that I am bound in charity against it! So much fairer, Sur. This cannot save you: Wol. Speak on, sir; You wrought to be a legate; by which power Nor. Then, that, in all you writ to Rome, or else Suf. Sur. Item, you sent a large commission stance, O my lord, Not you, correct them. My heart weeps to see him Sur. I forgive him. 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, [you. The king shall know it, and, no doubt, shall thank So fare you well, my little good lord cardinal. [Exeunt all but Wolsey. Wol. So farewell to the little good you bear me. Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man; to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him: The third day, comes a frost, a killing frost; And,-when he thinks, good easy man, full surely 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, 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. and glory of this world, I hate ye; Vain pomp, 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 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.— Enter CROMWELL, amazedly. Why, how now, Cromwell? At Crom. Wol. How does your grace? Why, well; Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell. I know myself now; and I feel within me A peace above all earthly dignities, The heaviest, and the worst, Is your displeasure with the king. Wol. God bless him! Crom. The next is, that sir Thomas More is chosen Lord chancellor in your place. Wol. That's somewhat sudden : But he's a learned man. 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. The king has gone beyond me, all my glories No sun shall ever usher forth mine honours, (I know his noble nature,) not to let Crom. Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron, 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. And,-Pr'ythee, lead me in: I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell, So I have. Farewell® The hopes of court! my hopes in heaven do dwell. [Exeunt. ACT IV. SCENE I-A Street in Westminster. 1 Gent. You are well met once again. 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 enThe duke of Buckingham came from his trial. counter, 1 Gent. 'Tis very true: but that time offer'd [sorrow; This, general joy. 2 Gent. "Tis well: The citizens, I am sure, have shewn at full their royal minds; As, let them have their rights, they are ever forward In celebration of this day, with shews, Pageants, and sights of honour. I Gent. Never greater, 1 Gent. The duke of Suffolk is the first, and claims 2 Gent. I thank you, sir: had I not known those customs, I should have been beholden to your paper. 1 Gent. That I can tell you too. The archbishop Alas, good lady!—(Trumpets.) Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell; The trumpets sound: stand close, the queen is And,-when I am forgotten, as I shall be; Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr. Serve the king; coming. 2. Lord Chancellor, with the purse and mace before 3. Choristers singing. 4. Mayor of London bearing the mace. 5. 6. ter, in his coat of arms, and on his head, a gilt copper crown. 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. 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. SCENE 2:] KING HENRY VIII. 7. A canopy borne by four of the Cinque-ports; under it, the Queen in her robe; in her hair richly adorned with pearl, crowned. On each side of her, the Bishops of London and Winchester. 8. The old Duchess of Norfolk, in a coronal of gold, wrought with flowers, bearing the Queen's train. 9. Certain Ladies or Countesses, with plain circlets of gold without flowers. 2 Gent. A royal train, believe me.-These I Who's that, that bears the sceptre? 1 Gent. 2 Gent. Yes. 1 Gent. They, that bear The cloth of honour over her, are four barons Of the Cinque-ports. 2 Gent. Those men are happy; and so are all, are near her. I take it, she that carries up the train, Is that old noble lady, duchess of Norfolk. 1 Gent. It is; and all the rest are countesses. 2 Gent. Their coronets say so. indeed; And, sometimes, falling ones. 1 Gent. These are stars, No more of that. [Exit Procession, with a great flourish of ing? Enter a third Gentleman. God save you, sir? Where have you been broil[a finger 3 Gent. Among the crowd i'the abbey; where Could not be wedg'd in more; and I am stifled With the mere rankness of their joy. The ceremony? 2 Gent. 3 Gent. 1 Gent. You saw 3 Gent. Well worth the seeing. Good sir, speak it to us. A distance from her, while her grace sat down dest paces 3 Gent. Thomas Cromwell; A man in much esteem with the king, and truly Has made him master o'the jewel-house, You may command us, sir. [Exeunt. Enter KATHARINE, dowager, sick; led between Grif. How does your grace? O, Griffith, sick to death: Lodg'd in the abbey; where the reverend abbot, Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows, Kath. So may he rest; his faults lie gently on him! His promises were, as he then was, mighty; 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, With thy religious truth, and modesty, Now in his ashes honour: Peace be with him!Patience, be near me still; and set me lower: I have not long to trouble thee.--Good Griffith, Cause the musicians play me that sad note I nam'd my knell, whilst I sit meditating On that celestial harmony I go to. Sad and solemn music. [quiet, Grif. She is asleep: Good wench, let's sit down For fear we wake her;-Softly, gentle Patience. 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 they vanish, carrying the garland with them. The music continues. Kath. Spirits of peace, where are ye? Are ye all gone! Kath. You are a saucy fellow: Deserve we no more reverence? Mess. I humbly do entreat your highness' pardon; [Exeunt Griffith and Messenger. Re-enter GRIFFITH, with CAPUCIUS. If my sight fail not, You should be lord ambassador from the emperor, My royal nephew, and your name Capucius. Cap. Madam, the same, your servant. Kath. O my lord, The times, and titles, now are alter'd strangely With me, since first you knew me. But, I pray you, What is your pleasure with me? 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 physic, 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, caus'd you write, yet sent away? I Pal. No, madam. (Giving it to Katharine.) This to my lord the king. Kath. Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliver Cap. Most willing, madam. Kath. In which I have commended to his The model of our chaste loves, his young daughter:goodness 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: |