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;
A still and quiet conscience. The King has cured
I humbly thank his grace; and from these shoul-
ders,
These ruined pillars, out of pity, taken
A load would sink a navy; too much honour.
O 't is a burden, Cromwell, 't is a burden,
Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven.
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,
Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer.
What news abroad?
The heaviest and the worst
Is your displeasure with the King.
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 learnéd 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!
What more?
Wol. There was the weight that pulled 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,
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, and provide
For thine own future safety.
Must I then leave you; must I needs forego
So good, so noble, and so true a master?
Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron,
With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord.
The King shall have my service; but my prayers
For ever and for ever shall be yours.
Wel. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear
In all my miseries: but thou hast forced me,
Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman.
Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell;
And when I am forgotten, as I shall be,
And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention
Of me more must be heard of, say I taught thee,
Say Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory,
And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour,
Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in:
A sure and safe one, though thy master missed it.
Mark but my fall, and that that ruined me.
Cromwell, I charge thee fling away ambition:
By that sin fell the angels: how can man, then,
The image of his Maker, hope to win by 't?
Love thyselflast: cherish those hearts that hate thee:
Corruption wins not more than honesty.
Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace,
To silence envious tongues. Be just and fear not:
Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's,
Thy God's, and truth's: then if thou fall'st, O Cromwel!
Thou fall'st a blesséd martyr. Serve the King,
And-pr'y thee, lead me in:
There take an inventory of all I have,
To the last penny: 'tis the King's: my robe
Crom. That Cranmer is returned with wel- And my integrity to heaven is all
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No more of that.[Exit Procession, with a great flourish of trumpets.
Enter a third Gentleman.
God save you, sir. Where have you been broiling? 3rd Gent. Among the crowd i' the abbey; where a finger
Could not be wedged in more; I am stifled
With the mere rankness of their joy.
2nd Gent. You saw the ceremony?
3rd Gent. That I did.
1st Gent. How was it?
3rd Gent. Well worth the seeing.
2nd Gent. Good sir, speak it to us.
3rd Gent. As well as I am able. The rich stream Of lords and ladies, having brought the Queen To a prepared place in the choir, fell off
A distance from her; while her grace sat down
To rest a while, some half an hour or so,
In a rich chair of state, opposing freely
The beauty of her person to the people.
Believe me, sir, she is the goodliest woman
That ever lay by man: which when the people
Had the full view of, such a noise arose
As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest,
As loud and to as many tunes: hats, cloaks
(Doublets, I think), flew up; and had their faces
Been loose, this day they had been lost. Such joy
I never saw before. Great-bellied women,
That had not half a week to go, like rams
In the old time of war, would shake the press,
And make them reel before them. No man living
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3rd Gent. At length her grace rose, and with modest paces
Came to the altar; where she kneeled, and saint like
Cast her fair eyes to heaven, and prayed devoutly;
Then rose again, and bowed her to the people:
When by the Archbishop of Canterbury
She had all the royal makings of a queen :
As holy oil, Edward Confessor's crown,
The rod, and bird of peace, and all such emblems
Laid nobly on her: which performed, the choir
With all the choicest music of the kingdom,
Together sung "Te Deum." So she parted,
And with the same full state paced back again
To York-place, where the feast is held.
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All the land knows that. However, yet there's no great breach: when it comes, Cranmer will find a friend will not shrink from him. 2nd Gent. Who may that be, I pray you? 3rd Gent. Thomas Cromwell:
A man in much esteem with the King, and truly
A worthy friend.-The King
Has made him master o' the jewel-house,
And one, already, of the privy-council.
2nd Gent. He will deserve more.
3rd Gent.
Yes, without all doubt.
Come, gentlemen, ye shall go my way, which
Is to the court, and there ye shall be my guests:
Something I can command. As I walk thither
I'll tell ye more.
Both.
You may command us, sir.
[Exeunt.
Enter KATHARINE, Dowager, sick; led between GRIFFITH and PATIENCE.
Grif. How does your grace?
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