I thank my memory, I yet remember Some of these articles; and out they shall. Now, if you can blush, and cry guilty, cardinal, Wol. Speak on, fir; I dare your worst 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 legate; 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 et Rex meus Was still infcrib'd; in which you brought the king your fervant. To be Suf. Then, that, without the knowledge Sur. Item, you fent a large commiffion Suf. That, out of mere ambition, you have caus'd Sur. Then, that you have fent innumerable fubftance, (By what means got, I leave to your own confcience,) 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, 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 lie open to the laws; let them, Not you, correct him. My heart weeps to fee him Sur. I forgive him. Suf. Lord cardinal, the king's further pleasure is,— That therefore fuch a writ be fu'd against you; Out of the king's protection :-This is my charge. The king shall know it, and, no doubt, shall thank you. [Exeunt all but WOLSEY. Wol. So farewell to the little good you bear me. I feel my heart new open'd: O, how wretched Enter CROMWELL, amazedly. Why, how now, Cromwell? What, amaz'd Crom. I have no power to speak, fir. Wol. At my misfortunes? can thy spirit wonder, Crom. Wol. How does your grace? Never fo truly happy, my good Cromwell. Why, well; A still and quiet confcience. The king has cur'd me, A load would fink a navy, too much honour: 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 foul I feel,) To endure more miseries, and greater far, Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer, Crom. The heavieft, and the worst, Is your displeasure with the king. Wol. God bless him! Crom. The next is, that fir Thomas More is chofen Lord chancellor in your place. 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, May have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on 'em! 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 marry'd, This day was view'd in open, as his queen, 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 loft for ever: No fun fhall ever usher forth mine honours, Or gild again the noble troops that waited Upon my smiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell; To be thy lord and master: Seek the king; That fun, I pray, may never fet! I have told him What, and how true thou art: he will advance thee; (I know his noble nature,) not to let Neglect Wol. Cromwell, I did not think to shed In all my miferies; but thou haft forc'd m Out of thy honest truth to play the woman Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, And,-when I am forgotten, as I shall be And fleep in dull cold marble, where no m Of me more must be heard of,-fay, I taug Say, Wolfey, that once trod the ways of And founded all the depths and shoals of 1 Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to ri A fure and safe one, though thy master m Mark but my fall, and that that ruin'd m Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambi By that fin fell the angels, how can man t The image of his Maker, hope to win by Love thy felf laft: cherish thofe hearts that Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To filence envious tongues. Be juft, and Let all the ends, thou aim'ft at, be thy co Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou well, Thou fall'ft a bleffed martyr. Serve the 1 There take an inventory of all I have, |