« ZurückWeiter »
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 mercyon the fault thougav'st him;
Whilst your great goodness, out of holy pity,
Absolv'd him with an axe.
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. 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 shew a little honesty.
I dare your worst objections: if I blush,
It is, to see a nobleman want manners. [at you.
Sur. I'd rather want those, than my head. Have
First, that, without the king's assent, 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
20 To foreign princes, Ego et Rex meus
Was still inscrib'd; in which you brought the king
To be your servant.
Suf. Then, that, without the knowledge
Either of king or council, when you went
25 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,
30A league between his highness and Ferrara.
Suf. That,out of mere ambition, you have caus'd
Your holy hat to be stampt on the king's coin.
Sur. Then, that you have sent innumerable sub-
35 (Bywhat means got, I leave to yourownconscience)
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,
40I will not taint my mouth with.
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 45
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.
Suf. Lord cardinal, the king's further pleasure
Because all those things, you have done of late
By your power legatine within this kingdom,
50 Fall into the compass of a Pramunire,-
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 your 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 [wench
Worse than the sacring bell, when the brown
Lay kissing in your arms, lord cardinal. [man, 55
Wol. How much, methinks, I could despise this
But that I am bound in charity against it!
That therefore such a writ be su'd against you;
To forfeit all your goods, lands, tenements,
Castles, 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 hat of a cardinal was scarlet; and the method of daring larks was by small mirrors fastened on scarlet cloth, which engaged the attention of these birds while the fowler drew his net over them. The little bell, which is rung to give notice of the Host approaching when it is carried in procession, as also in other offices of the Romish church, is called the sacring or consecration bell; from the French word, sacrer. 3 i. e. absolute. The judgement in a writ of Pramunire is, that the defendant shall be out of the king's protection; and his lands and tenements, goods and chattels, forfeited to the king; and that his body shall remain in prison at the king's pleasure. Y y 2
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 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,
These 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 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 our 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, amaz'd
At my misfortunes? can thy spirit wonder,
A great man should decline? Nay, an you weep,
I am fallen indeed.
Crom. How does your grace?
Wol. Why, well;
Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell.
I know myself now; and I feel within me
A peace above all carthly dignities,
Crom. Last, that the lady A
Whom the king hath in secre
This day was view'd in open,
Going to chapel; and the voi
Only about her coronation.
Wol. There was the weight tl
The king has gone beyond m
In that one woman I have lost
No sun shall ever usher forth
Or gild again the noble troops
Upon my smiles. Go,get theef
15I am a poor fallen man, unwor
To be thy lord and master: S
That sun, I pray, may never s
What, and how true thou art
Some little memory of me will
20I know his noble nature, not t
Thy hopeful service perish too
Neglect him not; make use n
For thine own future safety.
Crom. O my lord,
25|Must I then leave you? must
So good, so noble, and so true
Bear witness, all that have not
With what a sorrow Cromwell
The king shall have my servic
30 For ever, and for ever, shall b
Wol. Cromwell, I did not th In all my miseries; but thou h Out of thy honest truth, to pla Let's dryour eyes: And thus far h And,-when I am forgotten, a And sleep in dull cold marble, Of me more must be heard of,Say, Wolsey,- that once trod 1 And sounded all the depths and s Found thee a way, out of his wr A sure and safe one, though thy Mark but my fall, and that tha Cromwell, I charge thee, fling By that sin fell the angels, how 45 The image of his Maker,hope to Love thyself last: cherish tho Corruption wins not more than Still in thy right hand carry g To silence envious tongues. Be 50 Let all the ends, thou aim'st at, Thy God's, and truth's; then Cromwell,
A still and quiet conscience. The king has cur'd 40
I humblythank 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, Croinwell, '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.
What news abroad?
Crom. The heaviest and the worst,
Is your displeasure with the king.
Wol. God bless him!
Crom. The next is, thatSirThomas 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 him!
Thou fall'st a blessed martyr. !
And,-Pr'ythee, lead me in :
55 There take an inventory of all
To the last penny; 'tis the king
And my integrity to heaven, is
I dare now call mine own. O Cro
Had I but serv'd my God with
601 scrv'd iny king, He would no
Have left me naked to mine en
Crom. Good sir, have patienc
Wol. So I have. Farewell
The hopes of court! my hopes in
Crom. That Cranmer is return'd with welcome,165]
1 The chancellor is the general guardian of orphans. This sentence was really utte
2 Gent. 'Tis well: the citizens,
I am sure, have shewn at full their loyal minds;
As, let 'em have their rights, they are ever forward, 15]
In celebration of this day with shews,
Pageants, and sights of honour.
Gent. Never greater,
Nor, I'll assure you, better taken, sir.
2 Gent. May I 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 custoin of the coronation.
The duke of Suffolk is the first, and claims
To be high steward; next the duke of Norfolk,
To be earl marshal: you may read the rest.
2 Gent. I thank you, sir; had I not known those
I should have been beholden 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
Learn'd and reverend fathers of his order,
Held a late court at Dunstable, six miles off
From Ampthill, where the princess lay; to which
She oft was 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.
6. Marquis Dorset, bearing a sceptre of go
on his head a demi-coronal of gold. W
him, the Earl of Surrey, bearing the
of silver with the dove, crown'd with
earl's coronet. Collars of SS.
7. Duke of Suffolk, in his robe of estate,
coronet on his head, bearing a long wh
wand, as high steward. With him
Duke of Norfolk, with the rod of m
shalship, a coronet on his head. Collars of S
8. A canopy borne by four of the Cinque-port
under it the Queen in her robe; her ho
richly adora'd with pearl, crowned.
each side her, the bishops of London a
9. The old dutchess of Norfolk, in a coronal
gold, wrought with flowers, bearing t
Certain Ladies or Countesses, with plain ci clets of gold without flowers.
They pass over the stage in order and state
2 Gent. A royal train, believe me.-These Who's that, that bears the sceptre? [know;1 Gent. Marquis Dorset:
And that the earl of Surrey, with the rod.
2 Gent. A bold brave gentleman. That should b The duke of Suffolk.
1 Gent. "Tis the same, high-steward.
2 Gent. And that my lord of Norfolk.
1 Gent. Yes.
2 Gent. Heaven bless thee! [Looking ontheQueen
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.
The cloth of honour over her, are four barons 40Of the Cinque-ports.
1 Gent. Alas, good lady!The trumpets sound: stand close; the queen is coming.
2 Gent. Those men are happy; so are all are nea I take it, she that carries up the train,
Is that old noble lady, dutchess of Norfolk.
1 Gent. It is; and all the rest are countesses.
2 Gent. Their coronets say so. These are star
And, sometimes, falling ones.
1 Gent. No more of that,
[Exit Procession, with a great flourish of trun
Enter a third Gentleman.
50 God save you, sir! Where have you been broiling
3 Gent. Among the crowd i' the abbey; where
Could not be wedg'd in more: I am stiffed [finge
With the mere rankness of their joy.
5. Mayor of London, bearing the mace. Then Garter, in his coat of arms, and on his head a gilt copper crown.
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. The rich stream]
Of lords, and ladies, having brought the queen
To a prepar'd place in the choir, fell off
A distance from her: while her grace sat down
To rest awhile, some half an hour, or so,
In a rich chair of state, opposing freely
The beauty of her person to the people.
Believe me, sir, she is the goodliest woman
That ever lay by man: which when the people
Had the full view of, 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. Such joy
I never saw before. Great-belly'd women,
That had not half a week to go, like rams
In the old time of war, would shake the press,
And make 'em reel before 'em. No man living|
Could say, This is my wife, there; all were woven
So strangely in one piece.
2 Gent. But what follow'd?
3 Gent. At length her grace rose, andwith modest Came to the altar; where she kneel'd, and, saintlike,
And one, already, of the privy-council.
2 Gent. He will deserve more.
3 Gent. Yes, without all doubt.
Come, gentiemen, ye shall go my way, which
5 Is to the court, and there shall be my guests;
Something I can command. As I walk thither,
I'll tell ye more.
Cast her fair eyes to heaven, and pray'd devoutly. 25
Then rose again, and bow'd her to the people:
When by the archbishop of Canterbury,
She had all the royal makings of a queen;
As holy oil, Edward Confessor's crown,
The rod, and bird of peace, and all such emblems 30
Lay'd nobly on her; which perform'd, the choir,
With all the choicest music of the kingdom,
Together sung Te Deum. So she parted,
And with the same full state pac'd back again
To York place, where the feast is held.
1 Gent. You must no more call it York place,
For, since the cardinal fell, that title's lost;
'Tis now the king's, and call'd-Whitehall.
3 Gent, I know it;
But 'tis so lately alter'd, that the old name
Is fresh about me.
Both. You may command us, sir. [Exeunt.
Enter Katharine, Dowager,sick, led between Griffith
her Gentleman-usher, and Patience her woman.
Grif. How does your grace?
Kath. O, Griffith, sick to death:
My legs, like loaded branches, bow to the earth,
Willing to leave their burden: Reach a chair ;-
So, now, methinks, I feel a little ease.
Did'st thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou led'st me,
That the great child of honour, cardinal Wolsey,
Grif. Yes, madam: but, I think your grace,
Out of the pain you suffer'd, gave no ear to't.
Kath. Pr'ythee,goodGriffith, tell me how he dy'd:
If well, he stepp'd before me, happily,
For my example.
Grif. Well, the voice goes, madam :
For after the stout earl Northumberland
Arrested him at York, and brought him forward
(As a man sorely tainted) to his answer,
He fell sick suddenly, and grew so ill,
He could not sit his mule,
Grif. At last, with easy roads ' he came to Lei35 Lodg'd in the abbey; where the reverend abbot, With all his convent, 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 bones among ye; 40" Give him a little earth for charity!"
2 Gent. What two reverend bishops Were those that went on each side of the queen? 3 Gent. Stokesly, and Gardiner; the one, of 45 Winchester,
(Newly preferr'd from the king's secretary) The other, London.
2 Gent, He of Winchester
Is held no great good lover of the archbishop,
The virtuous Cranmer.
3 Gent, All the land knows that:
However, yet there's no great breach; when it
Cranmer will find a friend will not shrink from him.
2 Gent. Who may that be, I pray you?
3 Gent. Thomas Cromwell;
A man in much esteem with the king, and truly
A worthy friend, The king has made him
Master o' the jewel-house,
So went to bed; where eagerly his sickness
Pursu'd 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.[him!
Kath. So may he rest; his faults lie gently on
Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak him,
50 And yet with charity;-He was a man
Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking
Himself with princes; one, that by suggestion
Ty'd all the kingdom: simony was fair play;
His own opinion was his law; I' the presence
55 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.
1i. e. like battering-rams. Happily seems to mean on this occasion-peradventure, haply. i. e. by short stages. i. e. (says Mr. Tollet) He was a man of an unbounded stomach, or pride, ranking hmself with princes, and, by suggestion to the king and the pope, he ty'd, i. e. limited, circumscribed, and set bounds to the liberties and properties of all persons in the kingdom. That he did so, appears from various passages in the play.
Kath. No? Saw you not, even now, a bles
Cast thousand beams upon me, like the sun?
They promis'd me eternal happiness;
And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I f
I am not worthy yet to wear: I shall,
[drea Grif. I am most joyful, madam, such go Possess your fancy.
Kath. Bid the musick leave,
They are harsh and heavy to me. [Musick ceas
Pat. Do you note,`
But, to those men that sought him, sweet as sum- 15 Invite me to a banquet; whose bright faces
And though he were unsatisfy'd in getting, [mer.
(Which was a sin) yet in bestowing, madam,
He was most princely: Ever witness for him
Those twins of learning, that he rais'd in you,
Ipswich, and Oxford! one of which fell with him, 20 Assuredly.
Unwilling to out-live the good he 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 dy'd, fearing God.
Kath. After my death, I wish no other herald, 30
No other speaker of my living actions,
To keep mine honour from corruption,
But such an honest chronicler as Griffith.
Whom I most hated living, thou hast made me,
With thy religious truth, and modesty,
Now in his ashes honour: Peace be with him!-
Patience, be near me still; and set me lower:
I have not long to trouble thee.-Good Griffith,
Cause the musicians play me that sad note
I nam'd my knell, whilst I sit meditating
On that celestial harmony I go to.
Sad and solemn musick.
Grif. She is asleep: Good wench, let's sit down
How much her grace is alter'd on the sudden
How long her face is drawn? how pale she loo
And of an earthy cold? Mark her eyes.
Grif. She is going, wench; pray, pray,
Pat. Heaven comfort her!
Enter a Messenger.
Mes, An't like your grace,-
Kath. You are a sawcy fellow:
Deserve we no more reverence?
Grif. You are to blame,
Knowing, she will not lose her wonted greatne
To use so rude behaviour: go to, kneel.
Mes. I humblydo entreat your highness' pard
My haste made me unmannerly: There is stay
40 A gentleman, sent from the king, to see you,
Kath. Admit him entrance, Griffith: But
Let me ne'er see again.
For fear we wake her:-Softly, gentle Patience. 45
The vision. Ester, solemnly tripping, one after an-
other, six personages, clad in white robes, wear-
ing on their heads garlands of bays, and golden
rizards on their faces; branches of bays, or
palm, in their hands. They first congee unto her, 50
then dance; and, at certain changes, the first two
hold a spare garland over her head; at which,
the other four make reverend curtsies; then the
two, that held the garland, deliver the same to
the other next two, who observe the same order in 55
their changes, and holding the garland over her
head; which done, they deliver the same garland
to the last two, who likewise observe the same
[Exeunt Griffith, and Messeng Re-enter Griffith, with Capucius.
If my sight fail not,
You should be lord ambassador from the empe
My royal nephew, and your name Capucius.
Cap. Madam, the same, your servant.
Kath, O my lord,
The times, and titles, now are alter'd strange
With me, since first you knew me. But, I p
What is your pleasure with me?
Cup. Noble lady,
First, mine own service to your grace; the ne
The king's request that I would visit you;
Who grieves much for your weakness, and by
Sends you his princely commendations,
And heartily entreats you take good comfort.
1 A criminal connection with women was anciently call'd the rice of the body. So, in Holinsh p. 1258,"he labour'd by all means to cleare mistresse Sanders of committing evill of her bodie w him." 2 Dr. Percy remarks, that "this reflection bears a great resemblance to a passage in Sir Ti mas More's History of Richard III. where, speaking of the ungrateful turns which Jane Shore ex