That any Englishman dare give me counsel 7
Or be a known friend, 'gainst his highness'
pleasure,
(Though he be grown so desperate to be honest,)
And live a subject? Nay, forsooth my friends,
They that must weigh out my afflictions,
They that my trust must grow to, nve not here;
They are, as all my other comforts, far hence,
In mine own country, lords.
Cam.
I would, your grace.
Would leave your griefs, and take my counsel.
Q. Kath.
How, sir ?
Cam. Put your main cause into the king's
protection;
He's loving, and most gracious; 'twill be much
Both for your honour hetter, and your cause;
For, if the trial of the law o'ertake you,
You'll part away disgrac'd.
Wol.
He tells you rightly.
Q. Kath. Ye tell me what ye wish for both,
my ruin:
Is this your Christian counsel? out upon ye!
Heaven is above all yet; there sits a judge,
That no king can corrupt.
Cam.
Your rage mistakes us.
Q. Kath. The more shame for ye; holy men
I thought ye,
Upon my soul, two reverend cardinal virtues :
But cardinal síns, and hollow hearts, I fear ye;
Mend them for shame, my lords. Is this your
comfort ?
The cordial that ye bring a wretched lady?
A woman lost among ye, laugh'd at, scorn'd?
I will not wish ye half my miseries,
I have more charity: But say, I warn'd ye;
Take heed, for heaven's sake, take heed, lest at
The burden of my sorrows fall upon ye.
Wol. Madam, this is a mere distraction;
You turn the good we offer into envy.
Q. Kath. Ye turn me into nothing; Wo upon ye,
And all such false professors! Would ye have me
(If you have any justice, any pity;
If ye be any thing but churchmen's habits)
Put my sick cause into his hands that hates me
Alas! he has banish'd me his bed already;
His love too long ago: I am old, my lords,
And all the fellowship I hold now with him
Is only my obedience. What can happen
To me, above this wretchedness? all your studies
Make me a curse like this.
Cam.
Your fears are worse.
QKath. Have I liv'd thus long-(let me speak
myself,
Since virtue finds no friends,)-a wife, a true
A woman (I dare say, without vain-glory,)
Never yet branded with suspicion?
Have I, with all my full affections
Still met the king? lov'd him next heaven?
obey'd him?
Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him?
Almost forgot my prayers to content him?
And am I thus rewarded? 'tis not well, lords.
Bring me a constant woman to her husband,
One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his plea-
And to that woman, when she has done most,
Yet will I add an honour,-a great patience.
Wol. Madam, you wander from the good we
Q. Kath. My lord, I dare not make myself so guilty,
To give up willingly that noble title
Your master wed me to: nothing but death
Shall e'er divorce my dignities.
Wol.
'Pray, hear me. Q. Kath. 'Would I had never trod this English earth,
Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it!
What will become of me now, wretched lady?
I am the most unhappy woman living.-
Alas! poor wenches, where are now your for.
tunes?
[To her Women.
Shipwreck'd upon a kingdom, where no pity,
No friends, no hope; no kindred weep for me,
Almost, no grave allow'd me:-Like the lily,
That once was mistress of the field, and flourish'd,
I'll hang my head, and perish.
Wol.
If your grace
Could but be brought to know, our ends are
honest,
You'd feel more comfort: why should we, good
lady,
Upon what cause, wrong you? alas! our places,
The way of our profession is against it;
We are to cure such sorrows, not to sow them.
For goodness' sake, consider what you do;
How you may hurt yourself, ay, utterly
Grow from the king's acquaintance, by this car-
The heart of princes kiss obedience,
So much they love it; but to stubborn spirits,
They swell, and grow as terrible as storms.
I know, you have a gentle, noble temper,
A soul, as even as a calm; Pray, think us
Those we profess, peace-makers, friends, and
Cam. Madam, you'll find it so. You wrong
your virtues
With these weak women's fears. A noble spirit,
As yours was put into you, ever casts
Such doubts, as false coin, from it. The king
Beware, you lose it not: For us, if you please
To trust us in your business, we are ready
To use our utmost studies in your service.
Q. Kath. Do what ye will, my lords: And pray
forgive me,
If I have us'd myself unmannerly;
You know, I am a woman, lacking wit
To make a seemly answer to such persons.
Pray, do my service to his majesty:
He has my heart yet; and shall have my prayers, ?While I shall have my life. Come, reverend fathers,
Bestow your counsels on me: she now begs,
That little thought, when she set footing here,
She should have bought her dignities so dear.
[Exeunt.
Antechamber to the King's Apartment.
Enter the Duke of Norfolk, the Duke of Suffolk,
the Earl of Surrey, and the Lord Chamberlain.
Nor. If you will now unite in your complaints,
And force them with a constancy, the cardinal
Cannot stand under them: If you omit
The offer of this time, I cannot promise,
But that you shall sustain more new disgraces,
With these you bear already.
Sur.
I am joyful
To meet the least occasion, that may give me
Remembrance of my father-in-law, the duke,
To be reveng'd on him.
Suff.
Which of the peers
Have uncontemn'd gone by him, or at least
Strangely neglected? when did he regard
The stamp of nobleness in any person,
Ont of himself?
Cham. My lord, you speak your pleasures:
What he deserves of you and me, I know;
What we can do to him (though now the time
Gives way to us,) I much fear. If you cannot,
Bar his access to the king, never attempt
Any thing on him; for he hath a witchcraft
Over the king in his tongue.
Nor.
O, fear him not
Matter against him, that for ever mars
Ye have angels' faces, but heaven knows your His spell in that is out: the king hath found
And hedges, his own way. But in this point
Crom. I think, by this he is. Wol. Leave me awhile. [Erit Cromwell It shall be to the duchess of Alençon, The French king's sister: he shall marry her. Anne Bullen! 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.
Suff. May be, he hears the king Does whet his anger to him. Sur. Sharp enough,
Wol. The late queen's gentlewoman! a knight's daughter,
To be her mistress' mistress! the queen's queen!→
All his tricks founder, and he brings his phy-This candle burns not clear: 'tis I must snuff it;
Then, out it goes.-What though I know her
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 up
An heretick, an arch one, Cranmer; one
Hath crawl'd into the favour of the king,
And is his oracle.
Nor.
He's vex'd at something. Suff. I would 'twere something that would fret the string,
The master-cord of his heart!
Enter the King, reading a Schedule; and
Lovell.
Suff
The king, the king.
K. Hen. What piles of wealth hath he accu
mulated
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
Stood here observing him: Some strange com-
motion
Is 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 pos
We have seen him set himself.
K. Hen.
It may well be;
There is a mutiny in his mind. This morning
Fapers of state he sent me to peruse,
As I required: and, wot 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 outspeaks
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!
K. Hen.
Good my lord,
You are full of heavenly stuff, and bear the in-
ventory
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
Dear 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
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
Employ'd you where high profits might come
home,
And throw it from their soul; though perils did
Abound, as thick as thought could make them,
Appear in forms more horrid; yet my duty,
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.
Erit 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 it 7
He parted frowning from me, as if ruin
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 so;
This paper has undone me :-'Tis the account
Of all that world of wealth I have drawn toge
For mine own ends; indeed, to gain the pope. dom,
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 I writ to his holiness. Nay, then, farewell! Sur. The Lord increase this business! [Aside. I have touch'd the highest point of all my K. Hen. Have I not made you The prime man of the state? I pray you, tell
But par'd my present havings, to bestow
My bounties upon you.
Wol.
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,
Shower'd on me daily, have been more than
could
My studied purposes requite; which went
Beyond all man's endeavours;-my endeavours
Have ever come too short of my desires,
Yet, fill'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 honour,
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And, from that full meridian of my glory,
Ihaste 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 Chamberlain.
Nor. Hear the king's pleasure, cardinal: who
commands you
To render up the great seal presently
Into our hands; and to confine yourself
To Asher-house, my lord of Winchester's,
Till you hear further from his highness.
Wol.
Stay,
Where's your commission, lords? words cannot
carry
Anthority so weighty.
Suff
Who dare cross them?
Bearing the king's will from his mouth ex-
pressly?
Wol. Till I find more than will, or words 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 1
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
gave me;
Bade me enjoy it, with the place and honours,
During my life; and, to confirm his goodness,
Tied it by letters patents: Now, who'll take it 7
Sur. The king that gave it.
It must be himself then. Was still inscrib'd; in which you brought the
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 policy! You sent me deputy for Ireland;
Far from his succour, from the king, from all That might have mercy on the fault thou gav'st
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 lords,
Can ye endure to hear this arrogance?
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.
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: your
goodness,
Since you provoke me, shall be most notorious.
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 sacring bell, when the brown
wench
Lay kissing in your arms, lord cardinal.
Wol. How much, methinks, I could despise
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, cardinal,
You'll show a little honesty.
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 head.
Have at you.
First, that without the king's assent, or know-
You 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
To be your servant.
Suff Then, that, without the knowleage
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
Sur. Then, that you have sent innumerable substance
(By what means got, I leave to your own con. science,)
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, since they are of you, and odious,
I will not taint my mouth with.
Chrm.
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
him
So little of his great self.
Sur.
Suff. Lord Cardinal, the king's further plea-
sure is,-
Because all those things, you have done of late
By your power legatine within this kingdom,
Fall into 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 to 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
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;
But far beyond my depth; my high-blown pride
At length broke under me; and now has left
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' favours
There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to
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, amar'a At my misfortunes? can thy spirit wonder, A great man should decline? Nay, an you weep am fallen indeed.
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 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, 't's 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. 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 Long in his highness' favour, and do justice For truth's sake, and his conscience; that his
When he has run his course, and sleeps in bless
May have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on 'em! 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 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 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.
I am sure, have shown at full their royal minds, (As, let them have their rights, they are ever for ward,)
In celebration of this day with shows,
Pageants, and sights of honour.
1 Gent.
Never greater, Nor, I'll assure you, better taken, sir. 2 Gent. May 1 be bold to ask what that contains, That paper in your hand? 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,
O, my lord, Must I then leave you? Must I needs forego So good, so noble, and so true a master? I should have been beholden to your paper. Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron, But, I beseech you, what's become of Katharine, With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord.-The princess dowager? how goes her business 1
The xing 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.
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
Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Crom-She oft was cited by them, but appear'd not:
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 hon-
Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in; A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it.
And, to be short, for not appearance, and
The King's late scruple, by the main assent
Of all these learned men she was divore'd,
And the late marriage made of none effect:
Since which, she was removed to Kimbolton,
Where she remains now, sick.
2 Gent.
[Trumpets. The trumpets sound: stand close, the queen is coming.
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