That might have mercy on the fault thou gav'st him; Wol. Found his deserts; how innocent I was His noble jury and foul cause can witness. 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. Sur. All goodness Yes, that goodness Of gleaning all the land's wealth into one, Into your own hands, cardinal, by extortion; You writ to the pope, against the king: your good ness, Since you provoke me, shall be most notorious.- Who, if he live, will scarce be gentlemen, A cardinal's bat is scarlet, and the method of daring larks is by small mirrors on scarlet cloth. Produce the grand sum of his sins, the articles Worse than the sacring bell, when the brown wench 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 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 at you. head. Have First, that, without the king's assent or knowledge, Nor. Then, that, in all you writ to Rome, or else To foreign princes, Ego et Rex meus Was still inscrib'd; in which you brought the king To be your servant. Suff. 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. Suff. That, out of mere ambition, you have caus'd Your holy hat to be stamp'd on the king's coin. Sur. Then, that you have sent innumerable sub stance, (By what means got, I leave to your own con science,) To furnish Rome, and to prepare the ways I will not taint my mouth with. Cham. O my lord, Press not a falling man too far; 'tis virtue : Not you, correct him. My heart weeps to see him Sur. I forgive him. Suff. 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 ‡,That therefore such a writ be sued against you; To forfeit all your goods, lands, tenements, Chattels, and whatsoever, and to be Out of the king's protection :-This is my charge. Nor. And so we'll leave you 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, * Absolute. As the Pope's legate. A writ incurring a penalty. Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride 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, 1 am fallen indeed. Crom. Wol. How does your grace? Why, well; Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell. A peace above all earthly dignities, A still and quiet conscience. The king has cur'd me, A load would sink a navy, too much honour : Crom. 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, 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 Crom. That Cranmer is return'd with welcome, Install❜d lord archbishop of Canterbury. Wol. That's news, indeed. Last, that the lady Anne, 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 lost for ever: No sun shall ever usher forth mine honours, To be thy lord and master: Seek the king; (I know his noble nature,) not to let Thy hopeful service perish too: Good Cromwell, Neglect him not; make use† now, and provide For thine own future safety. Crom. O my lord, Must I then leave you? Must I needs forego So good, so noble, and so true a master? * The chancellor is the guardian of orphans. + Interest. |