6

Farewel, a long farewel, to all my greatness!
This is the state of man; To-day he puts forth
The tender leaves of hope,5 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 forever 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 aspect of princes, and their ruin,7
More pangs and fears than wars or women have;

5 This is the state of man; To-day he puts forth

6

The tender leaves of hope, &c.] So, in our author's 25th Sonnet: "Great princes' favourites their fair leaves spread, "But as the marigold in the sun's eye;

"And in themselves their pride lies buried,

"For at a frown they in their glory die." Malone.

nips his root,] As spring-frosts are not injurious to the roots of fruit-trees," Dr. Warburton reads-shoot. Such capricious alterations I am sometimes obliged to mention, merely to introduce the notes of those, who, while they have shewn them to be unnecessary, have illustrated our author. Malone.

Vernal frosts, indeed, do not kill the root, but then to nip the shoots does not kill the tree or make it fall. The metaphor will not, in either reading, correspond exactly with nature. Johnson.

I adhere to the old reading, which is countenanced by the following passage in A. W.'s Commendation of Gascoigne and his Poesies:

"And frosts so nip the rootes of vertuous-meaning minds." See Gascoigne's Works, 1587. Steevens.

7 and their ruin,] Most of the modern editors read-our ruin. Steevens.

Their ruin is, their displeasure, producing the downfall and ruin of him on whom it lights. So before:

"He parted frowning from me, as if ruin
Leap'd from his eyes." Malone.

And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,
Never to hope again.-

8

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.

Wol.

How does your grace?

Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell.
I know myself now; and I feel within me
A peace above all earthly dignities,

Why, well;

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, methinks, (Out of a fortitude of soul I feel)

To endure more miseries, and greater far,

Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer."

8 And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,] So, in Churchyard's Legend of Cardinal Wolsey, MIRROUR FOR MAGISTRATES, 1587: Your fault not half so great as was my pride,

"For which offence fell Lucifer from the skies." Malone. In The Life and Death of Thomas Wolsey, &c. a poem, by Tho. Storer, student of Christ-church, in Oxford, 1599, the Cardinal expresses himself in a manner somewhat similar:

9

"If once we fall, we fall Colossus-like,

"We fall at once, like pillars of the sunne," &c. Steevens.

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.] So, in King HenryVI, Part II:

"More can I bear, than you dare execute."

Again, in Othello:

"Thou hast not half the power to do me harm,

"As I have to be hurt." Malone.

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!1 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 marry'd,
This day was view'd in open, as his queen,
Going to chapel; and the voice is now
Only about her coronation.

1- a tomb of orphans' tears wept on 'em!] The chancellor is the general guardian of orphans. A tomb of tears is very harsh. Johnson. This idea will appear not altogether indefensible to those who recollect the following epigram of Martial:

"Flentibus Heliadum ramis dum vipera serpit,
"Fluxit in obstantem succina gemma feram:
"Quæ dum miratur pingui se rore teneri,
"Concreto riguit vincta repente gelu.

"Ne tibi regali placeas Cleopatra sepulchro,

Vipera si tumulo nobiliore jacet."

The Heliades certainly wept a tomb of tears over the viper. The same conceit, however, is found in Drummond of Hawthornden's Teares for the Death of Moeliades:

"The Muses, Phoebus, Love, have raised of their teares "A crystal tomb to him, through which his worth appeares." Steevens.

A similar conceit occurs in King Richard II, Act III, sc. iii. Henley. The old copy has-on him. The error, which probably arose from similitude of sounds, was corrected by Mr. Steevens. Malone. in open,] A Latinism, [in aperto] perhaps introduced by Ben Jonson, who is supposed to have tampered with this play. Et castris in aperto positis: Liv. I, 33, i. e. in a place exposed on all sides to view. Steevens.

2.

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.3 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.

Crom.

O my lord,

3 Or gild again the noble troops that waited

Upon my smiles.] The number of persons who composed Cardinal Wolsey's household, according to the printed account, was eight hundred. "When (says Cavendish, in his Life of Wolsey,) shall we see any more such subjects, that shall keepe such a noble house? Here is an end of his houshold. The number of persons in the cheyne-roll [check-roll] were eight hundred persons.”

But Cavendish's work, though written in the time of Queen Mary, was not published till 1641; and it was then printed most unfaithfully, some passages being interpolated, near half of the MS. being omitted, and the phraseology being modernised throughout, to make it more readable at that time; the covert object of the publication probably having been, to render Laud odious, by shewing how far church-power had been extended by Wolsey, and how dangerous that prelate was, who, in the opinion of many, followed his example. The persons who procured this publication, seem to have been little solicitous about the means they employed, if they could but obtain their end; and therefore, among other unwarrantable sophistications, they took care that the number" of troops who waited on Wolsey's smiles," should be sufficiently magnified; and, instead of one hundred and eighty, which was the real number of his household, they printed eight hundred. This appears from two MSS. of this work in the Museum; MSS Harl. No. 428, and MSS. Birch, 4233.

In another manuscript copy of Cavendish's Life of Wolsey, in the Publick Library at Cambridge, the number of the Cardinal's household, by the addition of a cypher, is made 1800. Malone. make use] i. e. make interest. So, in Much Ado about - I gave him use for it." Steevens.

4

Nothing:

66

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.

Wol. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear
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;
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 miss'd it.
Mark but my fall, and that that ruin'd me.
Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition;5
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;7
Corruption wins not more than honesty.

5

-fling away ambition;] Wolsey does not mean to condemn every kind of ambition; for in a preceding line he says he will instruct Cromwell how to rise, and in the subsequent lines he evidently considers him as a man in office: "then if thou fall'st," &c. Ambition here means a criminal and inordinate ambition, that endeavours to obtain honours by dishonest means.

6 By that sin fell the angels,] See p. 298, n. 8.

7

Malone.
Steevens.

· cherish those hearts that hate thee;] Though this be good divinity, and an admirable precept for our conduct in private life, it was never calculated or designed for the magistrate or publick minister. Nor could this be the direction of a man, experienced in affairs, to his pupil. It would make a good christian, but a very ill and very unjust statesman. And we have nothing so infamous in tradition, as the supposed advice given to one of our kings, to cherish his enemies, and be in no pain for his friends. I am of opinion the poet wrote:

cherish those hearts that wait thee;

i. e. thy dependants. For the contrary practice had contributed to Wolsey's ruin. He was not careful enough in making dependants by his bounty, while intent in amassing wealth to himself. The following line seems to confirm this correction:

Corruption wins not more than honesty.