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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
Thou fall’st a blessed martyr. Serve the king ;
And,-pr’ythee, lead me in ;
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
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.
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.
I never saw before.
Cardinal Wolsey's Death.
At last, with easy roads,* he came to Leicester,
Lodg’d in the abbey ; where the reverend abbot,
With all his convert, honourably receiv’d him ;
To whom he gave these words,—“O father abbot,
An old man, broken with the storms of state,
Is come to lay his weary
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,
gave his honours to the world again,
His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace.
Wolsey's Vices and Virtues.
may his faults lie gently on him !
Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak him,
yet with charity,—He was a man
Of an unbounded stomach,* ever ranking
Himself with princes; one that by suggestion
Tied all the kingdom ; simony was fair play;
His own opinion was his law: i' the presencet
He would say untruths ; and be ever double,
Both in his words and meaning ; he was never,
But where he meant to ruin, pitiful :
His promises were, as he then was, mighty ;
But his performance, as he is now, nothing.
Of his own body he was ill, and
gave The clergy ill example.
This cardinal, Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly Was fashion’d to | much honour. From his cradle He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one ; Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading ; Lofty and sour to them that lov'd him not ; But, to those men that sought him, sweet as summer : And though he were unsatisfied in getting, (Which was a sin), yet in bestowing, madam, He was most princely. Ever witness for him
Those twins of learning that he raised in you,
Ipswich and Oxford ! one * of which fell with him,
Unwilling to outlive the good that did it ;
The other, though unfinish’d, yet so famous,
So excellent in art, and still so rising,
That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.
His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him;
For then, and not till then, he felt himself,
And found the blessedness of being little :
And, to add greater honours to his age
Than man could give him, he died fearing God.
Archbishop Cranmer's Prophecy of the Future Greatness
of the Infant Princess, afterwards Queen Elizabeth.
Let me speak, sir,
For heaven now bids me ; and the words I utter
Let none think flattery, for they'll find them truth.
This royal infant (Heaven still move about her!)
Though in her cradle, yet now promises
Upon this land a thousand thousand blessings,
Which time shall bring to ripeness ; she shall be
(But few now living can behold that goodness),
A pattern to all princes living with her,
And all that shall succeed : Sheba was never
More covetous of wisdom and fair virtue
soul shall be: all princely graces, That mould up such a mighty piece as this is, With all the virtues that attend the good, Shall still be doubled on her : truth shall nurse he Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her ; She shall be lov'd and fear'd: her own shall bless her;
Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn,
And hang their heads with sorrow : good grows with
In her days, every man shall eat in safety,
Under his own vine, what he plants ; and sing
The merry songs
of peace to all his neighbours :
God shall be truly known ; and those about her,
From her shall read the perfect ways of honour,
And by those claim their greatness, not by blood.
Nor shall this peace sleep with her ; but as when
The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phenix,
Her ashes new create another heir,
As great in admiration as herself,
So shall she leave her blessedness to one,
(When Heaven shall call her from this cloud of dark-
ness) Who, from the sacred ashes of her honour, Shall star-like rise, as great in fame as she was, And so stand fix’d: peace, plenty, love, truth, terror, That were the servants to this chosen infant, Shall then be his, and like a vine grow to him ; Wherever the bright sun of heaven shall shine, His honour and the greatness of his name Shall be, and make new nations : he shall flourish, And, like a mountain cedar, reach his branches To all the plains about him ;
-Our children's chil. dren Shall see this, and bless Heaven.
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE. This play describes the wanderings of Pericles, Prince of Tyre, to avoid the anger of Antiochus, King of Antioch, who was seek
ing to kill him. It has been generally conjectured, that portions only of the drama were written by Shakspere's hand. The play, however, appears in every edition of the great dramatist's works. Malone says of Pericles—“ The numerous expressions bearing a similitude to passages in the undisputed plays, some of the incidents, and in various places the colour of the style, all combine to set the seal of Shakspere on the play, and furnish us with proofs that a considerable portion of it was written by him.”
Sanctity of a Good Man's Word.
I'll take thy word for faith, not ask thine oath ;
Who shuns not to break one, will sure crack both.
Description of a Prosperous City.
This Tharsus, o'er which I have government,
(A city, on whom plenty held full hand),
For riches, strew'd herself even in the streets ;
Whose towers bore heads so high, they kiss' the clouds,
And strangers ne'er beheld, but wonder'd at;
Whose men and dames so jetted* and adorn’d,
Like one another's glass to trim + them by ;
Their tables were stor'd full, to glad the sight,
And not so much to feed on, as delight;
All poverty was scorn'd, and pride so great,
The name of help grew odious to repeat.
Sorrows never come singly.
One sorrow never comes but brings an heir,
That may succeed as his inheritor.
* Jet, to strut.