Imágenes de páginas

A great man should decline? Nay, if 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 feel within me

A peace above all earthly dignities;

A still and quiet conscience. The king has cured me, I humbly thank his Grace; and from these shoulders, These ruined pillars, out of pity taken

A load would sink a navy, too much honor.
O, 'tis a burden, Cromwell, 'tis a burden,
Too heavy for a man that hopes for Heaven!

Crom. I'm 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, that Sir Thomas More is chosen Lord Chancelor in your place.

Wol. That's somewhat sudden—

But he's a learned man. May he continue
Long in his highness' favor, 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 orphan's tears wept on him!
What more?

Crom. That Cranmer is returned with welcome;
Installed 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 viewed in open as his queen,

Going to chapel: and the voice is now

Only about her coronation.

Wol. There was the weight that pulled me down, O


The king has gone beyond me: all my glories
In that one woman I have lost forever!

No sun shall ever usher forth my honors,

Or gild again the noble troops that waited
Upon my smiles. Go get thee from me, Cromwell;
I am a poor, fall'n man, unworthy now
To be thy Lord and master. Seek the king,
That sun I pray may never set; I've 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
Forever, and forever, shall be yours.

Wol. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear
In all my miseries, but thou hast forced me,
Out of thine 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 must more be heard, say then I taught thee-—-
Say, Wolsey, that once rode the waves of glory,
And sounded all the depths and shoals of honor,
Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in:
A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it.
Mark but my fall, and that which ruined me:
Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition;

By that sin fell the angels: how can man then,
Though the image of his Maker, hope to rise by it?
Love thyself last; cherish those hearts that wait thee;
Corruption wins 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,

Thy God's and Truth's; then, if thou fall'st, O Cromwell,
Thou fall'st a blessed martyr. Serve the king-
And prithee lead me in-

There, take an inventory of all I have,

To the last penny-'tis the king's.
And my integrity to Heaven, are all
I dare now call my own. O Cromwell, Cromwell,
Had I but served my God with half the zeal

I served my king, he would not in mine age

Have left me naked to mine enemies.

Crom. Good Sir, have patience.

Wol. So I have.

The hopes of Court! My hopes in Heaven do dwel}.

My robe,



Horatio. Hail to your Lordship!
Hamlet. I am glad to see you well:

Horatio-or I do forget myself.

Hor. The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever. Ham. Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name with you.

And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio!
Hor. A truant disposition, good my lord.

Ham. I would not hear your eneiny say so;
Nor shall you do mine ear that violence,
To make it truster of your own report
Against yourself. I know, you are no truant.

But what is your affair at Elsinore?
We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart.

Hor. My lord, I came to see your father's funeral. Ham. I pray thee do not mock me, fellow student; I think it was to see my mother's wedding.

Hor. Indeed, my lord, it followed hard upon.

Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio; the funeral baked meats
Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
Would I had met my direst foe in heaven,
Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio!
My father-methinks I see my father.
Hor. Where, my lord?

Ham. In my mind's eye, Horatio.
Hor. I saw him once; he was a goodly king.
Ham. He was a man, take him for all in all,
I shall not look upon his like again.

Hor. My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.
Ham. Saw! who?

Hor. My lord, the king, your father.

Ham. The king, my father!

Hor. Season your admiration for a while, With an attent ear; till I may deliver

This marvel to you.

Ham. For heaven's love let me hear.

Hor. Two nights together had these gentlemen,
Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch,
In the dead waist and middle of the night,
Been thus encountered: a figure, like your father,
Armed at point exactly, cap-a-pie,
Appears before them, and, with solemn march,
Goes slowly and stately by them: thrice he walked
By their oppressed and fear-surprised eyes,
Within his truncheon's length; whilst they, distilled
Almost to jelly with the act of fear,

Stand dumb, and speak not to him. This to me,
In dreadful secrecy, impart they did;

And I with them, the third night, kept the watch:
Where, as they had delivered, both in time,

Form of the thing, each word made true and good,
The apparition comes. I knew your father;

These hands are not more like.

Ham. But where was this?

Hor. My lord, upon the platform where we watched.
Ham. Did you not speak to it?
Hor. My lord, I did;

But answer made it none. Yet once, methought
It lifted up its head, and did address
Itself to motion, like as it would speak:
But, even then, the morning cock crew loud;
And, at the sound, it shrunk in haste away,
And vanished from our sight.

Ham. 'Tis very strange.

Hor. As I do live, my honored lord, 'tis true;
And we did think it writ down in our duty,
To let you know of it.

Ham. Indeed, indeed, sir, but this troubles me.
Hold you the watch to-night?
Hor. We do, my lord.
Ham. Armed, say you?
Hor. Armed, my lord.
Ham. From top to toe?
Hor. My lord, from head to foot.

Ham. Then saw you not his face?

Hor. O, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up.
Ham. What, looked he frowningly?

Hor. A countenance more

In sorrow than in anger.

Ham. Pale, or red?
Hor. Nay, very pale.

Ham. And fixed his eyes upon you?

Hor. Most constantly.

Ham. I would I had been there!

Hor. It would have much amazed you.

Ham. Very like, very like ;-staid it long?

Hor. While one with moderate haste might tell a hun


« AnteriorContinuar »