Anne Bulien! No; I'll no Anne Bullens for him:

There is more in it than fair visage.--Bullen!
No, we'll no Bullens.-Speedily I wish
To hear from Rome.-The marchioness of
Pembroke !

Nor. He's discontented.

Suf. May be, he hears the king
Does whet his anger to him.
Sur. Sharp enough,
Lord, for thy justice!

Wol. The late queen's gentlewoman; a knight's daughter,

To be her mistress' mistress! the queen's queen!

[it; This candle burns not clear: 'tis I must snuff Then, out it goes.-What though I know her virtuous,

And well-deserving? yet I know her for
A spleeny Lutheran; and not wholesome to
Our cause, that she should lie i' the bosom of
Our hard-rul'd king. Again, there is sprung
A heretic, an arch one, Cranmer; one
Hath crawl'd into the favour of the king,
And is his oracle.

Nor. He is vex'd at something.

[up

Of your best graces in your mind; the which You were now running o'er; you have scarce time

To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span,
To keep your earthly audit: sure, in that
I deem you an ill husband; and am glad
To have you therein my companion.
Wol. Sir,

For holy offices I have a time; a time
To think upon the part of business, which
I bear i' the state; and nature does require
Her times of preservation, which, perforce,
I, her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal,
Must give my tendance to.

K. Hen. You have said well.

Wol. And ever may your highness yoke to gether,

As I will lend you cause, my doing well
With my well saying!

K. Hen. 'Tis well said again;
And 'tis a kind of good deed, to say well:
And yet words are no deeds. My father lov'd

you:

He said, he did; and with his deed did crown
His word upon you. Since I had my office,
I have kept you next my heart; have not alone

fret the string,

The master-cord of his heart!

Enter the KING, reading a Schedule ;* and
LOVELL.

Suf. The king, the king.

K. Hen. What piles of wealth hath he accumulated

[hour To his own portion! and what expense by the Seems to flow from him! How, i' the name of thrift,

Does he rake this together!-Now, my lords; Saw you the cardinal?

Nor. My lord, we have [motion Stood here observing him: Some strange comIs in his brain: he bites his lip, and starts; Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground, Then, lays his finger on his temple; straight, Springs out into fast gait; + then, stops again, Strikes his breast hard; and anon, he casts His eye against the moon: in most strange postures

We have seen him set himself.

K. Hen. It may well be; There is a mutiny in his mind. This morning Papers of state he sent me to peruse, As I requir'd; And, wott you, what I found There; on my conscience, put unwittingly? Forsooth, an inventory, thus importing,The several parcels of his plate, his treasure, Rich stuffs, and ornaments of household; which I find at such proud rate, that it out-speaks Possession of a subject.

Nor. It's heaven's will;

Some spirit put this paper in the packet,
To bless your eye withal.

K. Hen. If we did think

His contemplation were above the earth,
And fix'd on spiritual object, he should still
Dwell in his musings: but I am afraid,
His thinkings are below the moon, not worth
His serious considering.

[He takes his seat, and whispers LOVELL,
who goes to WOLSEY.

Wol. Heaven forgive me!

Ever God bless your highness!

home,

But par'd my present havings, to bestow My bounties upon you.

Wol. What should this mean?

Sur. The Lord increase this business!

[Aside.

K. Hen. Have I not made you [me The prime man of the state? I pray you, tell If what I now pronounce, you have found true: And, if you may confess it, say withal, If you are bound to us, or no. What say you? Wol. My sovereign, I confess, your royal

graces, [coul Shower'd on me daily, have been more, than My studied purposes requite; which went Beyond all man's endeavours:-my endeavours Have ever come too short of my desires, Yet, fil'd with my abilities: Mine own ends Have been mine so, that evermore they pointed To the good of your most sacred person, and The profit of the state. For your great graces Heap'd upon me, poor undeserver, I Can nothing render but allegiant thanks; My prayers to heaven for you; my loyalty, Which ever has, and ever shall be growing, Till death, that winter, kill it.

K. Hen. Fairly answer'd; A loyal and obedient subject is Therein illustrated: The honour of it Does pay the act of it; as, i' the contrary, The foulness is the punishment. I presume, That, as my hand has open'd bounty to you. My heart dropp'd love, my power rain'd hon

That for yourhighness' good I ever labour'd More than mine own; that am, have, and will be. [to you, Though all the world should crack their duty And throw it from their soul: though perils did Abound, as thick as thought could make them, and

K. Hen. Good my lord,

inventory

As doth a rock against the chiding flood, Should the approach of this wild river break, And stand unshaken yours.

K. Hen. 'Tis nobly spoken: Take notice, lords, he has a loyal breast, For you have seen him open't.-Read o'er this; [Giving him papers. And, after, this: and then to breakfast, with What appetite you have.

[Exit KING, frowning upon Cardinal WOLSEY: the Nobles throng after him, smiling, and whispering. Wol. What should this mean? What sudden anger's this? how have I reap'd He parted frowning from me, as if ruin fit? Leap'd from his eyes: So looks the chafed lion

Upon the daring huntsman that has gall'd him; Then makes him nothing. I must read this paper;

I fear, the story of his anger.-"Tis 30;
This paper has undone me:-'Tis the account
Of all that world of wealth I have drawn to-
gether

[dom,
For mine own ends; indeed, to gain the pope-
And fee my friends in Rome. O negligence,
Fit for a fool to fall by! What cross devil
Made me put this main secret in the packet
I sent the king? Is there no way to cure this?
No new device to beat this from his brains?
I know, 'twill stir him strongly; Yet I know
A way, if it take right, in spite of fortune
Will bring me off again. What's this-To the
Pope?

The letter, as I live, with all the business
writ to his holiness. Nay then, farewell!
I have touch'd the highest point of all my
greatness;

And, from that full meridian of my glory,
1 haste now to my setting: I shall fall
Like a bright exhalation in the evening,
And no man see me more.

Re-enter the Dukes of NORFOLK, and SUFFOLK, the Earl of SURREY, and the Lord CHAMBER

LAIN.

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

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 all thy best parts bound together,)

Weigh'd not a hair of his. Plague of your po You sent me deputy for Ireland; [licy! 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
Can ye endure to hear this arrogance? [lords.
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: yout [rious.

goodness,

Since you provoke me, shall be most noto
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 scaring bell, 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.
Now, if you can blush, and cry guilty, cardi
You'll show a little honesty.

[nal

A cardinal's hat is scarlet, and the method of daring larks is by small mirrors on scarlet cloth.

Sur. I'd rather want those, than my head. Have at you. [ledge, First, that, without the king's assent, or knowYou 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 To foreign princes, Ego et Rex meus [else Was still inscrib'd; in which you brought the To be your servant.

[king

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, [ance, Without the king's will, or the state's allowA league between his highness and Ferrara. Suf. 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 substance, [science,) (By what means got, I leave to your own conTo 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
So little of his great self.

Sur. I forgive him.

[him

Suf. Lord cardinal, the king's further pleasure is,

Because all those things, you have done of late
By your power legatinet within this kingdom,
Fall into the compass of a pramunire,‡-
That therefore such a writ be sued against you:
To forfeit all your goods, lands, tenements,
Chattels, and whatsoever, and to be [charge.
Out of the king's protection:-This is my
Nor. And so we'll leave you to your medi-

tations

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; [pride But far beyond my depth: my high-blown 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' fa-
vours!

[to, There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire * Absolute. + As the Pope's legate. 1.A writ incurring a penalty.

That sweet aspect 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
I am fallen indeed.
[weep,

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.
Crom. I am glad, your grace has made that
right use of it.

Wol. I hope, I have: I am able now, me (Out of a fortitude of soul I feel,) [thinks 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 Lord chancellor in your place.

[chosen

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, L'em! May have a tomb of orphan's tears* wept on What more?

Crom. That Cranmer is return'd with wel.
come,

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. 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, Crom-
well;

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
[thee;

1

him

What, and how true thou art: he will advance
Some little memory of me will stir him,
I know his noble nature,) not to let
Thy hopeful service perish too: Good Crom
well,

Neglect him not; make uset now, and provide
For thine own future safety.

*The chancellor is the guardian of orphans. + Interest.

In all my miseries; but thou hast forc'd me Out of thy honest truth to play the woman. Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell;

tion

And,-when I am forgotten, as I shall be; And sleep in dull cold marble, where no men[thee, Of me more must be heard of,-say, I taught Say, Wolsey,-that once tred the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour,

Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in; 4A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd Mark but my fall, and that that ruin'd me. [it. 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 thyself last: 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:

1 Gent. Yes; 'tis the list Of those, that claim their offices this day, By custom of the coronation.

The duke of Suffolk is the first, and claims To be high steward; next, the duke of Norfolk, He to be earl marshal; you may read the rest. 2 Gent. I thank you, Sir; had I not known those customs,

I should have been beholden to your paper. But, I beseech you, what's become of Katharine,

The princess dowager! how goes her business? 1 Gent. That I can tell you too. The archbishop

Of Canterbury, accompanied with other Learned and reverend fathers of his order, Held a late court at Dunstable, six miles off From Ampthill, where the princess lay; to which

She oft was cited by them, but appear'd not: And, to be short, for not appearance, and The king's late scruple, by the main assent Of all these learned men she was divorc'd, And the late marriage* made of none effect: Since which, she was removed to Kimbolton, Where she remains now, sick.

[Trumpets.

2 Gent. Alas, good lady!The trumpets sound: stand close, the queen is coming.

THE ORDER OF THE PROCESSION. A lively flourish of Trumpets; then enter Tuo Judges.

The Lord Chancellor, with the purse and mace before him.

2.

Thou fall'st a blessed martyr. Serve the king;

3.

Choristers singing.

And,-Pr'ythee, lead me in:

4.

There take an inventory of all I have,

To the last penny: 'tis the king's: my robe, And my integrity to heaven, is all

5.

I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell,

Had I but serv'd my God with half the zeal
I serv'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. Farewell

The hopes of court! my hopes in heaven do dwell.

ACT IV.

[Exeunt.

[Music.

Then

Mayor of London bearing the mace. Garter, in his coat of arms, and on his head, a gilt copper crown.

Marquis Dorset, bearing a sceptre of gold, on his head a demi-coronal of gold. With him, the earl of Surrey, bearing the rod of silver with the dove, crowned with an earl's coronet. Collars of SS.

6. Duke of Suffolk, in his robe of estate, his coronet on his head, bearing a long white wand, as high-steward. With him, the duke of Norfolk, with the rod of marshalship, a coronet on his head. Collars of SS. A canopy borne by four of the Cinque-ports; under it, the Queen in her robe; in her hair richly adorned with pearl, crowned. On each side of her, the bishops of London, and Winchester.

Our king has all the Indies in his arms,
And more, and richer, when he strains that
I cannot blame his conscience.

1 Gent. They, that bear

[lady:

The cloth of honour over her, are four barons Of the Cinque-ports.

2 Gent. Those men are happy; and so are all, are near her.

I take it, she that carries up the train, Is that old noble lady, duchess of Norfolk. 1 Gent. It is; and all the rest are countesses. 2 Gent. Their coronets say so. These are stars indeed;

And, sometimes, falling ones. 1 Gent. 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?

3 Gent. Among the crowd i'the abbey; where a finger

Could not be wedg'd in more; and I am stifled With the mere rankness of their joy.

2 Gent. You saw

The ceremony?

3 Gent. That I did.

1 Gent. How was it?

3 Gent. Well worth the seeing. 2 Gent. Good Sir, speak it to us. 3 Gent. As well as I am able. stream

The rich

Of lords, and ladies, having brought the queen
To a prepar'd 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
[joy
Been loose, this day they had been lost. Such
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
[woven
Could say, This is my wife, there; all were
So strangly in one piece.

faces

2 Gent. But, 'pray, what follow'd?

3 Gent. At length her grace rose, and with

modest paces

Came to the altar; where she kneel'd, and,
saint-like,
[voutly.
Cast her fair eyes to heaven, and pray'd de-
Then rose again, and bow'd 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 em-
blems

Laid nobly on her: which perform'd, the choir,
With all the choicest music of the kingdom,
Together sung Te Deum. So she parted,
And with the same full state pac'd back again
To York-place, where the feast is held.
1 Gent. Sir, you

Must no more call it York-place, that is past:
For, since the cardinal fell, that title's lost;
"Tis now the king's, and call'd-Whitehall.
3 Gent. I know it;

But 'tis so lately alter'd, that the old name

Is fresh about me.

2 Gent. What two reverend bishops Were those that went on each side of the queen 3 Gent. Stokesly and Gardiner; the one, of Winchester,

(Newly preferr'd from the king's secretary,) The other, London.

2 Gent. He of Winchester

Is held no great good lover of the archbishop's, The virtuous Cranmer.

3 Gent. All the land knows that: However, yet there's no great breach; when it comes, [hic. Cranmer will find a friend will not shrink from 2 Gent. Who may that be, I pray you? 3 Gent. Thomas Cromwell;

[truly

A man in much esteem with the king, and
A worthy friend.-The king
Has made him master o'the jewel house,
And one, already, of the privy-council.
2 Gent. He will deserve more.
3 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.

SCENE II.-Kimbolton.

Enter KATHARINE, Dowager, sick; led between GRIFFITH and PATIENCE.

Grif. How does your grace?

Kath. O, Griffith, sick to death: [earth, My legs, like loaden branches, bow to the Willing to leave their burden: Reach a chair;So, now, methinks, I feel a little ease. [me, Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou led's That the great child of honour, cardinal Wol Was dead?

[sey,

Grif. Yes, madam; but, I think, your grace, Out of the pain you suffer'd, gave no ear to't. Kath. Pr'ythee, good Griffith, tell me how he died:

If well, he stepp'd before me, happily,*
For my example.

Grif. Well, the voice goes, madam:
For after the stout earl Northumberland
(As a man sorely tainted,) to his answer,
Arrested him at York, and brought him forward
He fell sick suddenly, and grew so ill,
He could not sit his mule.

Kath. Alas! poor man!

Grif. At last, with easy roads,† he came to Leicester, [abbot Lodg'd in the abbey; where the reverend With all his convent, honourably receiv'd him; To whom he gave these words,-O father abb An old man, broken with the storms of state, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye; Give him a little earth for charity! So went to bed: where eagerly his sickness Pursued him still; and, three nights after this. About the hour of eight, (which he himself Foretold, should be his last,) full of repentance Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows, He gave his honours to the world again, His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace. Kuth. So may he rest; his faults lie genty on him! Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak

him,

And yet with charity,-He was a man
Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking
Himself with princes; one, that by suggestion