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Suf. Who dare cross 'em?
Bearing the king's will from his mouth expressly?
As if it fed ye! and how sleek and wanton
(Mine, and your master,) with his own hand gave me
Ty'd it by letters patents: Now, who'll take it?
Wol. It must be himself then.
Sur. Thou 'rt a proud traitor, priest.
Wol. Proud lord, thou licst:
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
(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
Wol. This, and all else
This talking lord can lay upon my credit,
If I lov'd many words, lord, I should tell
Dare mate a sounder man than Surrey can be,
Sur. Your long coat, priest, protects you.
Can ye endure to hear this arrogance?
And from this fellow? If we live thus tamely,
Is poison to thy stomach.
Sur. Yes, that goodness
Of gleaning all the land's wealth into one,
The goodness of your intercepted packets,
You writ to the pope, against the king: your good
Since you provoke me, shall be most notorious.
My lord of Norfolk,
Produce the grand sum of his sins, the articles
Worse than the sacring bell, when the brown wench
Wol. How much, methinks, I could despise this
But that I'm 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 my innocence arise,
Sur. This cannot save you:
I thank my memory, I yet remember
Wol. Speak on, sir;
I dare your worst objections: if I blush,
Sur. I'd rather want those, than my head. Have
First, that, without the king's assent, or knowledge,
Nor. Then, that, in all you writ to Rome, or else To foreign princes, Ego & Rex meus
Was still inscrib'd; in which you brought the king To be your servant.
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 've 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.
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;
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.
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
So fare you well, my little good lord cardinal.
Exeunt NORFOLK, SUFFOLK, SURREY, and
Wol. Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness!
And,-when he thinks, good easy man! full surely
But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride
and fears than wars or women have; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again.
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,
Crom. How does your grace?
Wol. Why, well;
Never so truely happy, my good Cromwell.
A peace above all earthly dignities,
A still and quiet conscience.
Crom. I'm glad your grace has made that right use of it.
Wol. I hope, I have: I'm 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.-
Crom. The heaviest, and the worst,
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
For truth's sake and his conscience; that his bones,
Crom. That Cranmer is return'd with welcome, Install'd lord archbishop of Canterbury.
Vol. That's news indeed.
Crom. Last, that the lady Anne,
Whom the king hath in secrecy long marry'd,
Wol. There was the weight that pull'd me down.
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;
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: Go, Cromwell.
Must I then leave you? must I needs forego
Wol. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear