Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

Sir,

me,

say you?

You were now running o'er; you have scarce time || What appetite you have.
To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span,

[Exit King, frowning upon Cardinal WolTo keep your earthly audit: Sure, in that

sey: the Nobles throng after him, smiling, I deem you an ill husband; and am glad

and whispering: To have you therein my companion.

Wol.

What should this mean? Wol.

What sudden anger's this? how have I reap'd it? For holy offices I have a time; a time

He parted frowning from me, as if ruin To think upon the part of business, which Leap'd from his eyes : So looks the chafed lion I bear i'the state; and nature does require Upon the daring huntsman that has gall'd him; Her times of preservation, which, perforce, Then makes him nothing. I must read this paper ; I her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal, I fear, the story of his anger.—'Tis so; Must give my tendance to.

This paper has undone me :-'Tis the account K. Hen.

You have said well. Of all that world of wealth I have drawn together Wol. And ever may your highness yoke together, For mine own ends; indeed, to gain the popedom, As I will lend you cause, my doing well

And fee my friends in Rome. O negligence, With my well saying!

Fit for a fool to fall by! What cross devil K. Hen.

'Tis well said again; Made me put this main secret in the packet, And 'tis a kind of good deed, to say well: I sent the king? Is there no way to cure this? And yet words are no deeds. My father lov'd you: No new device to beat this from his brains ? He said, he did; and with his deed did crown I know, 'twill stir him strongly; Yet I know His word upon you. Since I had my office, A way, if it take right, in spite of fortune, I have kept you next my heart; have not alone Will bring me off again. What's this--To the Pope.? Employ'd you where high profits might come home, || The letter, as I live, with all the business But par'd my present havings, to bestow I writ to his holiness. Nay then, farewell! My bounties upon you.

I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness ; Wol.

What should this mean? || And, from that full meridian of my glory,
Sur. The Lord increase this business! (Aside. I haste now to my setting: I shall fall
K. Hen.

Have I not made you Like a bright exhalation in the evening,
The prime man of the state? I pray you,

tell And no man see me more. If what I now pronounce, you have found true: And, if you may confess it, say withal,

Re-enter the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, the If you are bound to us, or no. What

Earl of Surrey, and the Lord Chamberlain. Wol. My sovereign, I confess, your royal graces, Nor. Hear the king's pleasure, cardinal: who Shower'd on me daily, have been more than could commands you My studied purposes requite; which went To render up the great seal presently Beyond all man's endeavours :-my endeavours Into our hands; and to confine yourself Have ever come too short of my desires,

To Asher-house, my lord of Winchester's, Yet, fild with my abilities: Mine own ends Till you hear further from his highness. Have been mine so, that evermore they pointed

Stay, To the good of your most sacred person, and Where's your commission, lords? words cannot carry The profit of the state. For your great graces

Authority so weighty. Heap'd upon me, poor undeserver, I

Suff

Who dare cross them? Can nothing render but allegiant thanks;

Bearing the king's will from his mouth expressly? My prayers to heaven for you; my loyalty, Wol. Till I find more than will, or words, to do it Which ever has, and ever shall be growing, (I mean, your malice,) know, officious lords, Till death, that winter, kill it.

I dare, and must deny it. Now I feel K. Hen.

Fairly answer'd; Of what coarse metal ye are moulded, --envy. A loyal and obedient subject is

How eagerly ye

follow my disgraces, Therein illustrated : The honour of it

As if it fed ye! and how sleek and wanton Does the act of it; as, i'the contrary,

Ye appear in every thing may bring my ruin ! The foulness is the punishment. I presume, Follow your envious courses, men of malice; That, as my hand has open'd bounty to you,

You have Christian warrant for them, and, no doubt, My heart dropp'd love, my power rain'd honour, In time will find their fit rewards. That seal,

You ask with such a violence, the king On you,

than any; so your hand, and heart, (Mine, and your master,) with his own hand gave Your brain, and every function of your power, Should, notwithstanding that your bond of duty, Bade me enjoy it, with the place and honours, As 'twere in love's particular, be more

During my life ; and, to confirm his goodness, 'To me, your friend, than any.

Tied it by letters patents : Now, who'll take it? Wol.

I do profess,

Sur. The king, that gave it. That for your highness' good I ever labour'd Wol.

It must be himself then. More than mine own; that am, have, and will be. Sur. Thou art a proud traitor, priest. 'Though all the world should crack their duty to you, Wol.

Proud Tord, thou liest ; And throw it from their soul: though perils did Within these forty hours Surrey durst better Abound, as thick as thought could make them, and Have burnt that tongue, than said so. Appear in forms more horrid ; yet my duty,

Sur.

Thy ambition, As doth the rock against the chiding flood, Thou scarlet sin, robb'd this bewailing land Should the approach of this wild river break, Of noble Buckingham, my father-in-law : And stand unshaken yours.

The heads of all thy brother cardinals, K. Hen.

'Tis nobly spoken: |(With thee, and all thy best parts bound together,) Take notice, lords, he has a loyal breast,

Weigh'd not a hair of his. Plague of your policy! For you have seen hilus open't-Read o'er this; You sent me deputy for Ireland;

(Giving him papers. And, after, this : and then to breakfast, with

(1) Esher, in Surrey.

Wol.

pay

more

me:

him ;

Far from his succour, from the king, from all Either of king or council, when you went
That might have mercy on the fault thou gav'st || Ambassador to the emperor, you made bold

To carry into Flanders the great seal.
Whilst your great goodness, out of holy pity, Sur. Item, you sent a large commission
Absolv'd him with an axe.

To Gregory de Cassalis, to conclude, Wol.

This, and all else Without the king's will, or the state's allowance, This talking lord can lay upon my credit, A league between his highness and Ferrara. I answer, is most false. The duke by law

Suff. That, out of mere ambition, you have caus'd Found his deserts; how innocent I was

Your holy hat to be stamp'd on the king's coin. From any private malice in his end,

Sur. Then, that you have sent innumerable subHis noble jury and foul cause can witness.

stance If I lov'd many words, lord, I should tell you, |(By what means got, I leave to your own con. You have as little honesty as honour;

science,) That I, in the way of loyalty and truth

To furnish Rome, and to prepare the ways Toward the king, my ever royal master,

You have for dignities; to the mere4 undoing Dare matel a sounder man than Surrey can be, Of all the kingdom. Many more there are; And all that love his follies.

Which, since they are of you, and odious, Sur.

By my soul, I will not taint my mouth with. Your long coat, priest, protects you; thou should'st Cham.

O my lord, feel

Press not a falling man too far; 'tis virtue : My sword i'the life-blood of thee else. ---My lords, His faults lie open to the laws; let them, Can ye endure to hear this arrogance?

Not you, correct him. My heart weeps to see him And from this fellow? If we live thus tamely, So little of his great self. To be thus jaded2 by a piece of scarlet,

Sur.

I forgive him. Farewell nobility ; let his grace go forward, Suff. Lord cardinal, the king's further pleasure is, And dare us with his cap, like larks.3

Because all those things, you have done of late Wol.

All goodness By your power legatines within this kingdom, Is poison to thy stomach.

Fall into the compass of a præmunire, 6 Sur.

Yes, that goodness That therefore such a writ be sued against you; Of gleaning all the land's wealth into one, To forfeit all your goods, lands, tenements, Into your own hands, cardinal, by extortion; Chattels, and whatsoever, and to be The goodness of your intercepted packets, Out of the king's protection :- This is my charge. You writ to the pope, against the king : your good- Nor. And so we'll leave you to your meditations ness,

How to live better. For your stubborn answer, Since you provoke me, shall be most notorious.- About the giving back the great seal to us, My lord of Norfolk,-as you are truly noble, The king shall know it, and, no doubt, shall thank As you respect the common good, the state

you. Of our despis'd nobility, our issues,

So fare you well, my little good lord cardinal. Who, if he live, will scarce be gentlemen,

(Exeunt all but Wolsey. Produce the grand sum of his sins, the articles Wol. So farewell to the little good you bear me. Collected from his life :-I'll startle you

Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness ! Worse than the sacring bell, when the brown wench This is the state of man; To-day he puts forth Lay kissing in your arms, lord cardinal.

The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, Wol. How much, methinks, I could despise this And bears his blushing honours thick upon him: man,

The third day, comes a frost, a killing frost ; But that I am bound in charity against it! And, when he thinks, good easy man, full surely Nor. Those articles, my lord, are in the king's His greatness is a ripening,-nips his root, hand :

And then he falls, as I do. I have ventur’d, But, thus much, they are foul ones.

Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, Wol.

So much fairer,|| This many summers in a sea of glory; And spotless, shall mine innocence arise, But far beyond my depth : my high-blown pride When the king knows my truth.

At length broke under me; and now has left me, Sur.

This cannot save you ://Weary, and old with service, to the mercy I thank my memory, I yet remember

Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me. Some of these articles ; and out they shall. Vain pomp, and glory of this world, I hate ye; Now, if you can, blush, and cry guilty, cardinal, I feel my heart new open'd: 0, how wretched You'll show a little honesty.

Is that poor man, that hangs on princes' favours !. Wol.

Speak on, sir : There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to, I dare your worst objections : if I blush, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, It is, to see a nobleman want manners.

More pangs and fears than wars or women have ; Sur. I'd rather want those, than my head. Have And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,

Never to hope again. -
First, that, without the king's assent, or knowledge,
You wrought to be a legate; by which

Enter Cromwell, amazedly.

power You maim'd the jurisdiction of all bishops.

Why, how now,

Cromwell? Nor. Then, that, in all you writ to Rome, or else Crom. I have no power to speak, sir. To foreign princes, Ego et Rer meus

Wol.

What, amaz'd Was still inscrib'd; in which you brought the king || At my misfortunes ? can thy spirit wonder, To be your servant

A great man should decline ? Nay, an you weep, Suff Then, that, without the knowledge I am fallen indeed.

Crom.

How does your grace? (1) Equal. (2) Ridden.

(3) A cardinal's hat is scarlet, and the method (4) Absolute. (5) As the Pope's legate. of daring larks is by small mirrors on scarlet cloth. (6) A writ incurring a penalty.

at you.

thee ;

use of it.

And so are you.

Wol.

Why, well; || Cromwell, I charge thee, Ning away ambition; Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell. By that sin fell the angels, how can man then, I know myself now; and I feel within me The image of his Maker, hope to win by't? A peace above all earthly dignities,

Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate A still and quiet conscience. The king has cur’dme, I humbly thank his grace; and from these shoulders, Corruption wins not more than honesty. These ruin'd pillars, out of pity, taken

Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, A load would sink a navy, too much honour : To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not: O, 'tis a burden, Cromwell, 'tis a burden, Let all the ends, thou aim'st at, be thy country's, Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven. Thy God's, and truth's; then if. thou fallöst, O Crom. I am glad, your grace has made that right

Cromwell,

Thou fall'st a blessed martyr. Serve the king; Wol. I hope I have: I am able now, methinks, | And, -prythee, lead me in: (Out of a fortitude of soul I feel,)

There take an inventory of all I have, To endure more miseries, and greater far, To the last penny : 'tis the king's : my robe, Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer. And my integrity to heaven, is all What news abroad?

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

The heaviest, and the worst, Had I but serv'd my God with half the zeal Is your displeasure with the king.

I serv'd my king, he would not in mine age Wol.

God bless him! Have left me naked to mine enemies. Crom. The next is, that sir Thomas More is chosen Crom. Good sir, have patience. Lord chancellor in your place.

Wol.

So I have. Farewell Wol.

That's somewhat sudden : || The hopes of court! my hopes in heaven do dwell. But he's a learned man. May he continue

[Exeunt. 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!

ACT IV. What more?

Crom. That Cranmer is return'd with welcome,SCENE I.-A street in Westminster. Enter Install'd lord archbishop of Canterbury.

two Gentlemen, meeting.
Wol. That's news, indeed.
Crom.
Last, that the lady Anne,

1 Gent. You are well met once again. Whom the king hath in secrecy long married,

2 Gent. This day was view'd in open, as his queen,

1 Gent. You come to take your stand here, and Going to chapel; and the voice is now

behold Only about her coronation.

The lady Anne pass from her coronation ? Wol. There was the weight that pull'd me down. 2 Gent. 'Tis all my business. At our last enO Cromwell,

counter, The king has gone beyond me, all my glories The duke of Buckingham came from his trial. In that one woman I have lost for ever:

1 Gent. 'Tis very true: but that time offered No sun shall ever usher forth mine honours,

sorrow,
Or gild again the noble troops that waited This, general joy.
Upon my smiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell; 2 Gent. 'Tis well : The citizens,
I am a poor fallen man, unworthy now

I am sure, have shown at full their royal minds;
To be thy lord and master : seek the king;. As, let them have their rights, they are ever forward
That sun, I pray, may never set! I have told him In celebration of this day with shows,
What, and how true thou art : he will advance thee; Pageants, and sights of honour.
Some little memory of me will stir him

1 Gent.

Never greater, (I know his noble nature,) not to let

Nor, I'll assure you, better taken, sir. Thy hopeful service perish too : Good Cromwell, 2 Gent. May I be bold to ask what that contains, Neglect him not; make use2

and provide

That paper in your hand ? For thine own future safety.

1 Gent.

Yes ; 'tis the list Crom.

O my lord,

Of those, that claim their offices this day,
Must I then leave you? Must I needs forego By custom of the coronation.
So good, so noble, and so true a master ?

The duke of Suffolk is the first, and claims
Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron, To be high steward; next, the duke of Norfolk,
With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord. He to be earl-marshal ; you may read the rest.
The king shall have my service; but my prayers 2 Gent. I thank you, sir; had I not known those
For ever, and for ever, shall be yours.

customs, Wol. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear I should have been beholden to your paper. In all my miseries; but thou hast forc'd me But, I beseech you, what's become of Katharine, Out of thy honest truth to play the woman. The princess dowager? how goes her business ? Let's dry oureyes: and thus far hear

me,

Cromwell; 1 Gent. That I can tell you too. The archbishop And,—when I am forgotten, as I shall be ; Of Canterbury, accompanied with other And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Learned and reverend fathers of his order, Of me more must be heard of, -say, I taught thee. Held a late court at Dunstable, six miles off Say, Wolsey, -that once trod the ways of glory, From Ampthill, where the princess lay ; to which And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour, - | She oft was cited by them, but appear'd not : Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in; And, to be short, for not appearance, and A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it. The king's late scruple, by the main assent Mark but my fall, and that that ruin'd me. Of all these learned men she was divorc'd,

now,

(1) The chancellor is the guardian of orphans.

(2) Interest.

You saw

And the late marriagel made of none effect :

Enter a third Gentleman.
Since which, she was removed to Kimbolton,
Where she remains

now,
sick.

God save you sir! Where have you been broiling? 2 Gent.

Alas, good lady!- 3 Gent. Among the croud i’the abbey ; where a [Trumpets.

finger The trumpets sound : stand close, the queen is Could not be wedg’d in more ; and I am stifled coming.

With the mere rankness of their joy.

2 Gent. THE ORDER OF THE PROCESSION.

The ceremony?

3 Gent. That I did. A lively flourish of trumpets; then enter

1 Gent.

How was it? 1. Two judges.

3 Gent. Well worth the seeing. 2. Lord Chancellor, with the purse and mace be

2 Gent.

Good sir, speak it to us. fore him.

3 Gent. As well as I am able. The rich stream 3. Choristers singing.

[Music.

Of lords, and ladies, having brought the queen 4. Mayor of London, bearing the mace. Then To a prepar'd place in the choir, fell off

Garter, in his coat of arms, and on his A distance from her; while her grace sat down head, a gilt copper crown.

To rest a while, some half an hour, or so, 5. Marquis Dorset, bearing a sceptre of gold, on

In a rich chair of state, opposing freely his head a demi-coronal of gold. Il'ith The beauty of her person to the people. him, the earl of Surrey, bearing the rod Believe me, sir, she is the goodliest woman of silver with the dove, crouned with an That ever lay by man: which when the people earl's coronet. Collars of SS.

Had the full view of, such a noise arose 6. Duke of Suffolk, in his robe of estate, his coro

As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest, net on his head, bearing a long white As loud, and to as many tunes: hats, cloaks, wand, as high-steward. °With him, the (Doublets, I think,) flew up; and had their faces duke of Norfolk, with the rod of mar- Been loose, this day they had been lost. Such joy shalship, a coronet on his head. Collars || I never saw before. Great-bellied women, of SS.

That had not half a week to go, like rams 7. A canopy borne by four of the Cinque-ports ; In the

old time of war, would shake the press, under it, the Queen in her robe; in her|And înake them reel before them. No man living hair richly adorned with pearl, crowned. Could say, This is my wife, there; all were woven On each side of her, the bishops of London So strangely in one piece. and Winchester.

2 Gent.

But, pray, what follow'd? 8. The old Duchess of Norfolk, in a coronal of

3 Gent. At length her grace rose, and with modest gold, wrought with flowers, bearing the

paces Queen's train.

Came to the altar; where she kneel'd, and, saint9. Certain ladies or countesses, with plain circlets

like, of gold, without flowers.

Cast her fair eyes to heaven, and pray'd devoutly,

Then rose again, and bow'd her to the people: 2 Gent. A royal train, believe me.-- These 1 | When by the archbishop of Canterbury

She had all the royal makings of a queen; Who's that, that bears the sceptre?

As holy oil, Edward Confessor's crown, 1 Gent.

Marquis Dorset :| The rod, and bird of peace, and all such emblems, And that the earl of Surrey, with the rod. Laid nobly on her: which perform'd, the choir, 2 Gent. A bold brave gentleman: And that with all the choicest music of the kingdom, should be

Together sung Te Deum.

So she parted, The duke of Suffolk.

And with the same full state pac'd back again 1 Gent.

'Tis the same; high-steward. To York-place, where the feast is held. 2 Gent. And that iny lord of Norfolk?

i Gent. 1 Gent.

Yes. Must no more call it York-place, that is past : 2 Gent.

Heaven bless thee ! | For, since the cardinal fell, that title's lost;

(Looking on the Queen. || 'Tis now the king's, and call’d—Whitehall. Thou hast the sweetest face I ever look'd on.

3 Gent.

I know it; Sir, as I have a soul, she is an angel;

But 'tis so lately alter'd, that the old name Our king has all the Indies in his arms,

Is fresh about me. And more, and richer, when he strains that lady: 2 Gent.

What two reverend bishops I cannot blame his conscience.

Were those that went on each side of the queen ? 1 Gent.

They, that bear

3 Gent. Stokesly and Gardiner; the one, of WinThe cloth of honour over her, are four barons

chester, Of the Cinque-ports.

(Newly preferr'd from the king's secretary,) 2 Gent. Those men are happy; and so are all, are | The other, London. near her.

2 Gent.

He of Winchester I take it, she that carries up the train,

Is held no great good lover of the archbishop's, Is that old noble lady, duchess of Norfolk. The virtuous Cranmer. 1 Gent. It is; and all the rest are countesses. 3 Gent.

All the land knows that: 2 Gent. Their coronets say so. These are stars, However, yet there's no great breach; when it indeed;

comes, And, sometimes, falling ones,

Cranmer will find a friend will not shrink from him. 1 Gent.

No more of that. 2 Gent. Who may that be, I pray you? [Exit procession, with a great flourish of 3 Gent.

Thomas Cromwell; trumpets.

A man in much esteem with the king, and truly

A worthy friend. — The king (1) The marriage lately considered as valid. Has made him master o’the jewel-house,

know ;

Sir, you

[ocr errors]

And one, already, of the privy-council.

I were malicious else. 2 Gent. He will deserve more.

Grif.

This cardinal, 3 Gent.

Yes, without all doubt. Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly Come, gentlemen, ye shall go my way, which Was fashion'd too much honour. From his cradle,' Is to the court, and there ye shall be my guests ; He was a scholar, and a ripe, and good one; Something I can command. As I walk thither, Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and persuading : I'll tell ye more.

Lofty, and sour, to them that lov'd him not; Both. You may command us, sir. (Exe. But, to those men that sought him, sweet as summer. SCENE II._Kimbolton. Enter Katharine, dow-il(which was a sin,) yet in bestowing, madam,

And though he were unsatisfied in getting, ager, sick; led between Griffith and Patience.

He was most princely: Ever witness for him Grif. How does your grace?

Those twins of learning, that he rais'd in you, Kath.

0, Griffith, sick to death : Ipswich, and Oxford! one of which fell with him,
My legs, like loaden branches, bow to the earth, Unwilling to outlive the good that did it;
Willing to leave their burden: Reach a chair ;- The other, though unfinish'd, yet so famous,
So,-now, methinks, I feel a little ease.

So excellent in art, and still so rising,
Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou led'st me, That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.
That the great child of honour, cardinal Wolsey, His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him;
Was dead?

For then, and not till then, he felt himself,
Grif: Yes, madam; but, I think, your grace, And found the blessedness of being little :
Out of the pain you suffer'd, gave no ear to't. And, to add greater honours to his age
Kath. Pr’ythee, good Griffith, tell me how he Than man could give him, he died, fearing God.
died :

Kath. After my death I wish no other herald, If well, he stepp'd before me, happily,?

No other speaker of my living actions, For my example.

To keep mine honour from corruption, Grif.

Well, the voice goes, madam : || But such an honest chronicler as Griffith. For after the stout earl Northumberland

Whom I most hated living, thou hast made me, Arrested him at York, and brought him forward With thy religious truth, and modesty, (As a man sorely tainted,) to his answer,

Now in his ashes honour: Peace be with him! He fell sick suddenly, and grew so ill,

Patience, be near me still; and set me lower: He could not sit his mule.

I have not long to trouble thee.-Good Griffith, Kath.

Alas! poor man! Cause the musicians play me that sad note Grif. At last, with easy roads, 3 he came to I nam'd my knell, whilst I sit meditating Leicester,

On that celestial harmony I go to. Lodg'd in the abbey; where the reverend abbot,

Sad and solemn music. With all his convent, honourably receiv'd him; To whom he gave these words,-0 father abbot, Grif. She is aleep: Good wench, let's sit down An old man, broken with the storms of state,

quiet, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye ; For fear we wake her ;-Softly, gentle Patience. Give him a little earth for charity!

The vision. Enter, solemnly tripping one after So went to bed: where eagerly his sickness another, six personages, clad in white robes, Pursu'd him still; and three nights after this, wearing on their heads garlands of bays, and About the hour of eight (which he himself

golden vizards on their faces; branches of bays, Foretold, should be his last,) full of repentance, or palm, in their hands. They first congee unto Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows,

her, then dance; and, at certain changes, the He gave his honours to the world again,

first two hold a spare garland over her head; at His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace.. which, the other four make reverent court'sies ;

Kath. So may he rest; his faults liegently on him! then the two that held the garland, deliver the Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak him, same to the other next two, who observe the same And yet with charity,—He was a man

order in their changes, and holding the garland Of an unbounded stomach,4 ever ranking

over her head: which done, they deliver the Himself with princes; one, that by suggestion same garland to the last two, who likewise obTy'd all the kingdom : simony was fair play; serve the same oriler : at which (as it were by His own opinion was his law: I'the presences inspiration,) she makes in her sleep signs of reHe would say untruths; and be ever double, joicing, and holdeth up her hands to heaven: Both in his words and meaning: He was never, and so in their dancing they vanish, carrying But where he meant to ruin, pitiful :

the garland with them. The music continues. His promises were, as he then was, mighty; But his performance, as he is now, nothing. Kath. Spirits of peace, where are ye? Are ye Of his own body he was ill, and gave

all gone? The clergy ill example.

And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye? Grif. Noble madam,

Grif. Madam, we are here. Men's evil manners live in brass; their virtues Kath.

It is not you I call for : We write in water. May it please your highness || Saw ye none enter, since I slept? To hear me speak his good now?

Grif.

None, madam. Kath. Yes, good Griffith; Kath. No? Saw you not, even now, a blessed

troop (1) This scene is above any other part of Shak-|| Invite me to a banquet; whose bright faces speare's tragedies, and perhaps above any scene Cast thousand beams upon me, like the sun ? of any other poet; tender and pathetic, without They promis'd me eternal happiness ; gods, or furies, or poisons, or precipices; without the help of romantic circumstances, without im- (2) Haply. (3) By short stages. probable sallies of poetical lamentation, and with

15) of the king. aut any throes of tumultuous misery. JOHNSON. (6) Formed for. (7) Ipswich.

(4) Pride.

« AnteriorContinuar »