Fall in the compass of a Præmunire)

That therefore fuch a writ be su'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 How to live better. For your ftubborn answer, About the giving back the great feal to us, The King shall 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 ftate 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 froft;
And when he thinks, good eafy 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 fwim on bladders,
Thefe 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 ftream, 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!

(16) Caftles, and whatsoever,] I have ventured to fubftitute Chattels here, as the Author's genuine Word, for this good Reason; becaufe, as our Law-books inform us, the Judgment in a Writ of Præmunire is, that the Defendant fhall 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 fhall remain in prifon at the King's pleafore. But because it may be objected, 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 Holing head in his Life of King Henry VIII. p. 909.

There

There is, betwixt that fmile we would aspire to,
That sweet afpe&t 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, ftanding amaz'd.

Why, how now, Cromwell?

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

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

you weep,

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 thefe fhoulders,
These 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 ufe 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 heavieft, and the worst,

Is your difpleafure with the King.

Wol. God bless him!

Crom. The next is, that Sir Thomas Moore is chofen

Lord Chancellor in your place.

Wol. That's fomewhat fudden

But he's a learned man. May he continue
Long in his Highness' favour, and do juftice

For

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?

Grom. 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 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 loft for ever.

No fun fhall ever ufher forth my honours,
Or gild again the noble troops, that waited
Upon my fmiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell ;
I am a poor fall'n man, unworthy now

To be thy Lord and mafter. Seek the King;
(That fun, I pray, may never fet) I've told him

What and how true thou art: he will advance thee:
Some little memory of me will ftir him,

I know his noble nature, not to let

Thy hopeful fervice perifh too. Good Cromwell,
Neglect him not; make use now, and provide
For thine own future fafety.

Crom. O my Lord,

Muft I then leave you? muft I needs forego
So good, fo noble, and so true a master?
Bear witnefs, all that have not hearts of iron,
With what a forrow Cromwell leaves his Lord.
The King fhall have my fervice; but iny prayers
For ever, and for ever, fhall be yours.

Wol. Cromwell, I did not think to fhed a tear

In all my miferies; but thou haft forc'd me,

Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman-
Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell;

And

And when I am forgotten, as I fhall be,

And fleep in dull cold marble, where no mention
Of me must more be heard: fay then, I taught thee;
Say, Wolfey, that once trod the ways of glory,
And founded all the depths and fhoals of honour,
Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in:
A fure and fafe one, though thy mafter miss'd it.
Mark but my fall, and that which ruin'd me:
Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition;
By that fin fell the angels: how can man then
(The image of his maker) hope to win by't?
Love thyfelf laft; cherish thofe hearts, that hate thee:
Corruption wins not more than honesty.

Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace,

To filence envious tongues. Be juft, and fear not.
Let all the ends, thou aim'ft at, be thy country's,
Thy God's, and Truth's; then if thou fail'ft, O Cromwell,
Thou fall'ft a bleffed martyr. Serve the King!
And, pry'thee, 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 heav'n, is all

I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell,
Had I but ferv'd my God with half the zeal
I ferv'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 heav'n do dwell.

[Exeunt,

ACT

2 Gen. And fo are you.

1 Gen. You come to take your ftand here, and behold The lady Anne pass from her coronation.

2 Gen. 'Tis all my bufinefs. At our laft encounter, The Duke of Buckingham came from his trial..

1 Gen. "Tis very true. But that time offer'd forrow: This, general joy.

2 Gen. 'Tis well; the citizens,

I'm fure, have fhewn at full their loyal minds,
And, let 'em have their rights, they're ever forward
In celebration of this day with fhows,

Pageants, and fights of honour.

I Gen. Never greater,

Nor, I'll affure you, better taken, Sir.

2 Gen. May I be bold to afk what that contains, That paper in your hand?

1 Gen. Yes, 'tis the lift

Of those that claim their offices this day,

By cuftom of the coronation.

The Duke of Suffolk is the firft, and claims

To be High Steward; next, the Duke of Norfolk,
To be Earl Marshal; you may read the reft.

2 Gen. I thank you, Sir; had I not known those customs,

I fhould