As you refpect the common good, the state
Of our defpis'd nobility, our issues,

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

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

Wol. How much methinks I could despise this man, But that I'm bound in charity against it!

Nor. Thofe 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 arise,
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 fhall.

Now, if you can, blush, and cry Guilty, Cardinal,
You'll fhew a little honesty.

Wol. Speak on, Sir,

I dare your worft 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 feal.

Sur. Item, You fent a large commiffion

To Gregory de Caffalis, to conclude,

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

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

Ee 3

Sur

Sur. That you have fent innumerable fums,
(By what means got, I leave to your own conscience)
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 fee him
So little of his great felf.

Sur. I forgive him. ̧

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

That therefore fuch a writ be fued against you;
To forfeit all your goods, lands, tenements,
And chattels whatsoever, 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
So fare you well, my little good Lord Cardinal.

you.

[Exeunt all but Wolfey.

SCENE VI.

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 blufhing honours thick upon him;
The third day comes a froft, a killing froft,
And when he thinks, good eafie man, full furely
His greatnefs 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,
These many fummers in a sea of glory :
But far beyond my depth! my high-blown pride

At

At length broke under me, and now has left me
Weary, and old with fervice, to the mercy
Of a rude ftream, that must for ever hide me.
Vain pomp and glory of the 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 he would aspire to,
That fweet afpect of Princes, and his 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 pow'r to fpeak, Sir.
Wol. What, amaz'd

At my misfortunes? can thy fpirit wonder

A great man fhould decline? nay, if You weep,
I'm fall'n indeed.

Crom. How does your Grace?

Wol. Why, well;

Never fo truly happy, my good Cromwell.

I know my self now, and I feel within me

A peace above all earthly dignities;

A fill and quiet confcience. The King has cur'd me,.
I humbly thank his Grace; and from these 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 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 difpleasure with the King.

Wol. God bless him!

Crom. The next is, that Sir Thomas More is chofen Lord Chancellor in your place.

Wel

Wol. That's fomewhat fudden
But he's a learned man.

May he continue
Long in his Highness' favour, and do justice
For truth's fake and his confcience; that his bones,
When he has run his course 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 CromThe King has gone beyond me: all my glories

In that one woman I have loft for ever.

No fun fhall ever usher forth mine 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 service perish too.

Good Cromwell,

Neglect him not; make ufe 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 fo true a mafter?
Bear witnefs, all that have not hearts of iron,
With what a forrow Cromwell leaves his Lord.
The King fhall have my fervice; but my prayers
For ever and for ever shall be yours.

Wol. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear
In all my miferies; but thou haft forc'd me,
Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman.

[well,

Let's

Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell,
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 rife in :
A fure and fafe one, though thy mafter mifs'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
(Tho' th' image of his maker) hope to win by't?
Love thy felf last, cherish ev'n th' 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 fall'ft, O Cromwell,
Thou fall'ft a bleffed 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.

And my integrity to heav'n, is all

My robe,

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 IV. SCENE I.

A Street in Westminster.

Enter two Gentlemen, meeting one another.
Ou're well met once again.

1 Gen. You'

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 tryal.

1 Gen