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 carriage.
The hearts 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 servants.
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 loves you;
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.

SCENE II.-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.

Suf.

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,
Out of himself?

Cham. My lords, 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
Anything on him; for he hath a witchcraft
Over the king in his tongue.

Nor.
O, fear him not;
His spell in that is out: the king hath found
Matter against him, that for ever mars
The honey of his language. No, he 's settled,
Not to come off, in his displeasure.
Sir,

Sur.

I should be glad to hear such news as this
Once every hour.

Ur'd myself-deported myself.
Force-enforce. So in Measure for Measure :'-
"Has he affections in him

That thus can make him bite the law by the nose,
When he would force it?""

Lord, for thy justice!

May be, he hears the king

Sharp enough,

Wol. The late queen's gentlewoman; a knight's daughter,

To be her mistress' mistress! the queen's queen!—
This candle burns not clear; 't is I must snuff it;
Then, out it goes.-What though I know her vir-
tuous,

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 heretic, an arch one, Cranmer; one
Hath crawl'd into the favour of the king,
And is his oracle.

Nor.

He is vex'd at something.

Suf. I would 't were something that would fret the string,

The master-cord of his heart!

Enter the KING, reading a schedule; and LovELL.
Suf.
The king, the king.

K. Hen. What piles of wealth hath he accumulated

To his own portion! and what expense by the hour
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 commotion
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 postures
We have seen him set himself.

K. Hen.
It may well be;
There is a mutiny in his mind. This morning
Papers of state he sent me to peruse,
As I requir'd: 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 out-speaks
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 spiritua object, he should still Dwell in his musings: but, I am afraid,

You are full of heavenly stuff, and bear the inventory
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
I bear 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 together,
As I will lend you cause, my doing well
With my well-saying!

K. Hen.

T is well said again;
And 't is a kind of good deed to say well:
And yet words are no deeds. My father lov'd you•
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,
But par'd my present havings, to bestow
My bounties upon you.
Wol.

What should this mean?
Sur. The Lord increase this business!
K. Hen.

[Aside
Have I not made you
The prime man of the state? I pray you, tell me,
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, fil'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; ny loyalty,
Which ever has, and ever shall be growing,
Till death, that winter, kill it.

K. Hen.

Fairly answer; 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, more On you, than any; so your hand, and heart, Your brain, and every function of your power. Should, notwithstanding that your bond of duty, As 't were in love's particular, be more To me, your friend, than any.

Wol. I do profess That for your highness' good I ever labour'd More than mine own; that am, have, and will be. Though all the world should crack their duty to yo And throw it from their soul; though perils did Abound, as thick as thought could make them, and 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. "T is 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. [Exit 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? 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.--T is so: This paper has undone me: T is the account Of all that world of wealth I have drawn together For mine own ends; indeed, to gain the popedom, 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 't will 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!

I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness:
And, from that full meridian of my glory,

I haste now to my setting. I shall fall

Like a bright exhalation in the evening,
And no man see me more.

Thou scarlet sin, robt'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 him;
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 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 shouldst fel
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.
Wol.

Is poison to thy stomach.

Sur.

All goodness

Yes, that goodness

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
Authority so weighty.
Suf.
Bearing the king's will from his mouth expressly?

Who dare cross them,

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 everything may bring my ruin!
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 patent: Now, who 'll take it?
Sur. The king, that gave it.
Wol.

It must be himself then.

Sur. Thou art a proud traitor, priest. Wol

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 this

Within these forty bours Surrey durst better
Have but that tongue than said so.
Sur

Thy ambition,

Suf. Then, that, without the knowlegs 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.

Suf. That, out of mere ambition, you have caus'd Your holy hat to be stamp'd on the king's coin.

Sur. Then, that you have sent innumerable substance, (By what means got, I leave to your own conscience,) 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.

Cham.

O my lord, Press not a falling man too far; 't is 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.

I forgive him.

Suf. Lord cardinal, the king's further pleasure is,--
Because all those things, you have done of late
By your power legatine within this kingdom,
Fall into the 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 me.
Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness!
This is the state of man: To-day he puts forth
The tender leaves of hopes, 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 nie,
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.

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! 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. (
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, 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,
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 wrack, 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.
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 the
Corruption wins not more than honesty.
Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace.
To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not
Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's

And,-Prithee, lead me in:

Serve the king;

There take an inventory of all I have,

To the last penny; 't is the king's: my robe,
And my integrity to heaven, is all

I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell,

I serv'd my king, he would not in mine age
Have left me naked to mine enemies.
Crom. Good sir, have patience.
Wol.

So I have. Farewell

The hopes of court! my hopes in heaven do dwell.

[Exeunt.

I should have been beholding to your paper.
But, I beseech you, what 's become of Katharine,
The princess dowager? how goes her business?

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
She was often cited by them, but appear'd not:
And, to be short, for not appearance, and
The king's late scruple, by the main assent
Of all these learned men she was divorc'd,
And the late marriage made of none effect:
Since which, she was remov'd to Kimbolton,
Where she remains now, sick.

2 Gent. Alas, good lady!- [Trumpets. The trumpets sound: stand close, the queen is coming.

6.

head a demi-coronal of gold. With him, the Earl of Surrey, bearing the rod of silver with the dove, crowned with an earl's coronet. Collars of SS.

Duke of Suffolk, in his robe of estate, his coronet on his head, bearing a long white wand, as high-steward. With him, the Duke of Norfolk, with the rod of marshalship, a coronet on his head. Collars of SS.

7. A canopy borne by four of the Cinque-ports; under it, the Queen in her robe; in her hair richly adorned with pearl, crowned. On each side of her, the Bishops of London and Winchester. The old Duchess of Norfolk, in a coronal of gold, wrought with flowers, bearing the Queen's train. Certain Ladies or Countesses, with plain circlets of gold without flowers.

8.

9.

And that the earl of Surrey, with the rod.

2 Gent. A bold brave gentleman: and that should be The duke of Suffolk.

Heaven bless thee! [Looking on the QUEEN.

Thou hast the sweetest face I ever look'd on.-
Sir, as I have a soul, she is an angel;
Our king has all the Indies in his arms,

And more, and richer, when he strains that lady;
I cannot blame his conscience.

1 Gent.

They that bear

The cloth of honour over her, are four barons

Of the Cinque-ports.

2 Gent. Those men are happy; and so are all, are near her.

I take it, she that carries up the train

Is that old noble lady, duchess of Norfolk.

1 Gent. It is; and all the rest are countesses.

2 Gent. Their coronets say so. These are stars, in deed; And, sometimes, falling ones. 1 Gent. No more of that. [Exit Procession, with a great flourish of trumpets. Enter a Third Gentleman.

God save you, sir! where have you been broiling? 3 Gent. Among the crowd i' the abbey; where a finger Could not be wedg'd in more; I am stifled With the mere rankness of their joy. 2 Gent. You saw the ceremony?

3 Gent. That I did.

1 Gent. How was it?

3 Gent. Well worth the seeing. 2 Gent. Good sir, speak it to us. 3 Gent. As well as I am able. Of lords, and ladies, having brought the

The rich stream queen