Into our hands; and to confine yourself
To Asher-house, my lord of Winchester's,
Fill you hear further from his highness.
Wol. Stay,

Where's your commission, lords? words cannot carry
Authority so weighty.

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,
You ask with such a violence, the king,

(Mine, and your master,) with his own hand gave me : Bade me enjoy it, with the place and honours,

During my life; and, to confirm his goodness,

Tied it by letters patents: Now, who'll take it?
Sur. The king, that gave it.

Wol. It must be himself then.

Sur. Thou art a proud traitor, priest.
Wol. Proud lord, thou liest ;

Within these forty hours Surrey durst better
Have burnt that tongue, than said so.

Sur. Thy ambition,

Thou scarlet sin, robb'd this bewailing land

Of noble Buckingham, my father-in-law:

The heads of all thy brother cardinals,

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

Far from his succour, from the king, from all

That might have mercy on the fault thou gav'st him; Whilst your great goodness, out of holy pity,

Absolv'd him with an axe.

Wol. This, and all else

This talking lord can lay upon my credit,

I answer, is most false. The duke by law
Found his deserts: how innocent I was
From any private malice in his end,

His noble jury and foul cause can witness.
If I lov'd many words, lord, I should tell you,
You have as little honesty as honour;
That I, in the way of loyalty and truth
Toward the king, my ever royal master,

Dare mate a sounder man than Surrey can be,
And all that love his follies.

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,

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,

Farewell nobility; let his grace go forward,
And dare us with his cap, like larks. '
Wol. All goodness

Is poison to thy stomach.

Sur. Yes, that goodness

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, shall 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 issues,

Who, if he live, will scarce be gentlemen,-
Produce the grand sum of his sins, the articles
Collected from his life :-I'll startle you

Worse than the sacring bell, 2 when the brown wench
Lay kissing in your arms, lord cardinal.

Wol. How much, methinks, I could despise 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 spotless, shall mine innocence arise,
When the king knows my truth.

Sur. This cannot save you :

I thank my memory, I yet remember.
Some of these articles; and out they shall.

[] The hat of a cardinal is scarlet; and one of the methods of daring tarks was by small mirrors fastened on scarlet cloth, which engaged the attention of these birds while the fowler drew his net over them. STEEV. [2] The little bell, which is rung to give notice of the Host approaching when it is carried in procession, as also in other offices of the Romish church, is called the sacring, or consecration bell; from the French sacrer. THEO. 6*

VOL. VI.

Now, if you can blush, and cry guilty, cardinal,
You'll show a little honesty.

Wol. Speak on,

sir;

I dare your worst objections: if I blush,

It is, to see a nobleman want manners.

Sur. I'd rather want those than my head. Have at you. First, that, without the king's assent, or knowledge, You wrought to be a legate; by which power

You maim'd the jurisdiction of all bishops.

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

Was still inscrib'd; in which you brought the king
To be your servant.

Suf. Then, that, without the knowledge
Either of king or council, when you went
Ambassador to the emperor, you made bold
To carry into Flanders the great seal.

Sur. Item, you sent a large commission
To Gregory de Cassalis, to conclude,

Without the king's will, or the state's allowance,
A league between his highness and Ferrara.

Suf. That, out of mere ambition, you have caus'd
Your holy hat to be stampt on the king's coin.

Sur. Then, that you have sent innumerable substance, (By what means got, I leave to your own conscience,) 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, since they are of you, and odious, I will not taint my mouth with.

Cham. O my lord,

Press 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 see him
So little of his great self.

Sur. I forgive him.

Suf. Lord cardinal, the king's further pleasure is,Because all those things, you have done of late

By your power legatine within this kingdom,

Fall into the compass of a præmunire,2.

That therefore such a writ be su'd against you;

To forfeit all your goods, lands, tenements,

Chattels, and whatsoever, and to be

[2] It is almost unnecessary to observe that præmunire is a barbarous word used instead of pramonere. STEEV.

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,

The king shall know it, and, no doubt, shall thank you. 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.
Vain pomp, and glory of this world, I hate ye;
I feel my heart new open'd: O, how wretched
Is that poor man, that hangs on princes' favours!
There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to,
That sweet aspéct 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?

Crom. I have no power to speak, sir.

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 so truly happy, my good Cromwell.

I know myself now; and I feel within me

A peace above all earthly dignities,

A still and quiet conscience. The king has cur'd me, I humbly thank his grace; and from these shoulders, These ruin'd pillars, out of pity, taken

A load would sink a navy, too much honour:
O, 'tis a burden, Cromwell, 'tis a burden,
Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven.

Cro. I am glad, your grace has made that right use of it. Wol. I hope, I have : I am able now, methinks,

(Out of a fortitude of soul I feel,)

To endure more miseries, 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 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 orphans' tears wept on 'em !3
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.
Cromwell,

The king has gone beyond me, all my glories

In that one woman I have lost for ever:

No sun shall ever usher forth mine honours,

Or gild again the noble troops that waited

Upon my smiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell; I am a poor fallen man, unworthy now

To be thy lord and master. Seek the king;

That sun, I pray, may never set! I have told him What, and how true thou art he will advance thee; Some little memory of me will stir him,

(I know his noble nature,) not to let

Thy hopeful service perish too: Good Cromwell,
Neglect him not: make use now,4 and provide

[3] The chancellor is the general guardian of orphans. A tomb of tears is very harsh, [4] i. e. make interest. STEEV.

JOHNS.