Thou fcarlet fin, 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 on your policy!
You fent me Deputy for Ireland,

Far from his fuccour, from the King, from all
That might have mercy on the fault thou

him,
Whilft your great goodness, out of holy pity,
Abfolv'd him with an ax.

Wol. This, and all elfe

gav

This talking Lord can lay upon my credit,
I answer, is moft falfe. The Duke by law
Found his deferts. 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 honefty as honour,

That, I ' th' way of leyalty and truth
Toward the King, my ever royal mafter,

Dare mate a founder man than Surrey can be,
And all that love his follies.

Sur. By my foul

Your long coat, prieft, protects you; thou should'& feel

My fword i' th' life blood of thee elfe. 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.
Wol. All goodness

Is poifon to thy ftomach.

Sur. Yes, that goodness

Of gleaning all the land's wealth into one,
Into your own hands, Card'nal, by extortion;
The goodness of your intercepted packets

You writ to th' Pope against the King; your good. ness,

Since you provoke me, fhall be most notorious.

My Lord of Norfolk, as you're truly noble,
As you refpect the common good, the ftate
Of our defpis'd nobility, our flues,

Who, if he live, will fcarce be gentlemen,
Produce the grand fum of his fins, the articles
Collected from his life.. I'll startle you

Worfe than the facring bell *, when the brown wench

Lay kiffing in your arms, Lord Cardinal.

Wol. How much, methinks, I could defpife this

man,

But that I'm bound in charity against it!

Nor. Those articles, my Lord, are in th' King's But thus much, they are foul ones.

Wol. So much fairer

And spotlefs fhall mine innocence arife,
When the King knows my truth.

Sur. This cannot' fave you :

[hand:

I thank my memory, I yet remember
Some of these articles, and out they fhall.
Now if you can, blufh, and cry guilty, Cardinal:
You'll fhew a little honesty.

Wol. Speak on, Sir;

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 jurisdiction of all bishops.

Nor. Then, that in all you writ to Rome, or else · To foreign Princes, Ego & Rex meus

Was ftill infcrib'd; in which you brought the King To be your fervant.

Saf. That, without the knowledge

The little bell, which is rung to give notice of the Hoft approaching when it is carried in proceffion, as alfo in other offices of the Romish church, is called the facring or confecration bell; from the French word, Jacrer.” Theobald.

Either of King or council, when you went
Ambaffador to th' Emperor, you made bold
To carry into Flanders the great feal.

Sur. Item, You fent a large commiflion
To Gregory de Caffado, to conclude,

Without the King's will or the ftate's allowance, A league between his Highness and Ferrara.

Suf. That out of mere ambition you have made Your holy hat be ftamp'd on the King's coin.

Sur. Then that you have sent innumerable fubfance,

(By what means got I leave to your own confcience)
To furnith 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 ly open to the laws; let them,

Not you, correct him. My heart weeps to fee him
So little of his great felf.

Sur. I forgive him.

Suf. Lord Cardinal, the King's further pleasure is, Because all those things you have done of late, By your pow'r legatine within this kingdom, Fall in the compafs of a Præmunire,

That therefore fuch a writ be fued 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 fo we'll leave you to your meditations
How to live better. For your stubborn answer,
About the giving back the great feal to us,
The King fhall know it, and, no doubt, fhall
thank you.

6o fare you well, my little good Lord Cardinal.
[Exeunt all but Wolfey,

:

Wol. So farewell to the little good you bear me.
Farewell, a long farewell to all my greatnefs!
This is the state of man. To-day he puts forth
The tender leaves of hopes, to-morrow bloffoms,
And bears his blufhing honours thick upon him
The third day comes a frost, a killing frost ;
And when he thinks, good eafy man, full furely
His greatness is a ripening, nips his root,
And then he falls, as I do. I have ventur'd,
Like little wanton boys that fwim on bladders,
Thefe many fummers in a fea of glory,

Bat far beyond my depth; my high-blown pride
At length broke under me, and now has left me,
Weary and old with fervice, to the mercy
Of a rude ftream, that muft for ever hide me.
Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye;
I feel my heart new open'd. Oh, how wretched
Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours!
There is, betwixt that mile we would alpire to,
That fweet afpect of princes, and our ruin,
More pangs and fears than war or women have;
And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,
Never to hope again.

Enter Cromwell, ftanding amazed..

Why, how now, Cromwell?

Crom. I have no power to speak, Sir.
Wol. What, amaz'd

Army misfortunes? Can thy fpirit wonder

A great man fhould decline? Nay, if you weep,

I'm-fall'n indeed.

Crom How does your Grace?

Wol. Why, well;

4

Never fo truly happy, my good Cromwell.

I know myfelf now, and I feel within me

A peace above all earthly dignities,

A ftill and quiet confcience. The King has cur'd me, I humbly thank his Grace; and from thefe fhoulders, Thefe ruin'd pillars, out of pity, taken

A load would fink a navy, too much honour.
O'tis a burden, Cromwell, 'tis a burden
Too heavy for a man that hopes for heav'n.
Crom. I'm glad your Grace has made that right
ufe of it.

Wol. I hope I have. I'm able now, methinks, Out of a fortitude of foul I feel,

T'endure more miferies, and greater far,
Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer.
What news abroad?

Crom. The heaviest and the worst

Is your difpleafure 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 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,
When he has run his courfe, and fleeps in bleffings,
May have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on him!
What more?

Crom. That Cranmer is return'd with welcome; Infall'd Lord Archbishop of Canterbury.

Wol. That's news indeed.

Crom. Laft, that the Lady Anne,

Whom the King hath in fecrecy 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 bevond me; all my glories,
In that one woman, I have loft for ever.

No fun fhall ever ufher forth my honours,
Or gild again the noble troops that waited
Upon my fmiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell;
I am a poor fall'n man, unworthy now

To be thy lord and mafter. Seek the King;
That fun, I pray, may never fet! I've told him
What and how true thou art; he will advance thee a