Like a bright exhalation in the evening,

And no man see me more.

Re-enter the DUKES OF NORFOLK and SUFFOLK, the 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.

Who dare cross them,

Bearing the king's will from his mouth expressly? 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.

It must be himself then.

Proud lord, thou liest;

Wol.
Sur. Thou art a proud traitor, priest.
Wol.
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
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 feel
My sword i' the life-blood of thee else.-My lords,
Can ve 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.

All goodness

Sur.
Yes, that goodness
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 goodness,
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 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

man,

But that I am 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 mine innocence arise,
When the king knows my truth.

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 show a little honesty.

Wol.

Speak on, sir;

I dare your worst objections: if I blush,

It is, to see a nobleman want manners.

Suf. I'd rather want those than my head. Have at

you.

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
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

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

a

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 hear me.

a Merc-absolute.

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 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 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.

Why, how now, Cromwell?

What, amaz'd

Crom. I have no power to speak, sir.

Wol.

At my misfortunes? can thy spirit wonder
A great man should decline? Nay, an you weep,
I am fallen indeed.

Crom.

Wol.

How does your grace?

Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell.
I know myself now; and I feel within me

A peace above all earthly dignities,

Why, well;

A still and quiet conscience. The king has cur'd me, I humbly thank his grace; and from these shoulders,

VOL. VII.

F