Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye.
I feel my heart now 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, standing amazed.

Why, how now, Cromwell!

Crom. I have no power to speak, sir.
Car.

868

372

What! amaz'd

At my misfortunes? Can thy spirit wonder
A great man should decline? Nay, an you weep, 876
I am fall'n indeed.

Crom.

Car.

How does your Grace?

Why, well:

380

Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell.
I know myself now; and I feel within me
A peace above all earthly dignities,
A still and quiet conscience. The king has cur'd me,
I humbly thank 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, Cromwell, 'tis a burden

Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven!

384

Crom. I am glad your Grace has made that right use of it.

Car. I hope I have: I am able now, methinks,- 388 Out of a fortitude of soul I feel,—

To endure more miseries and greater far

370 their ruin: i.e. the rwin they cause

372 Lucifer; cf. n.

376 an: if

Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer.
What news abroad?

Crom.

The heaviest, and the worst, 892

Is your displeasure with the king.

Car.

God bless him!

Crom. The next is, that Sir Thomas More is chosen

Lord Chancellor in your place.

That's somewhat sudden:

Car.
But he's a learned man. May he continue
Long in his highness' favour, and do justice

396

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! 400 What more?

Crom.

That Cranmer is return'd with welcome,

Install'd Lord Archbishop of Canterbury.
Car. That's news indeed.

Crom.

Last, that the Lady Anne,

404

Whom the king hath in secrecy long married,
This day was view'd in open as his queen,

Going to chapel; and the voice is now

Only about her coronation.

Car. There was the weight that pull'd me down. O

Cromwell!

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 fall'n man, unworthy now

To be thy lord and master. Seek the king;

408

412

That sun, I pray, may never set!—I have told him 416 What, and how true thou art: he will advance thee. 405 in open: publicly

Some little memory of me will stir him—

I know his noble nature-not to let

Thy hopeful service perish too. Good Cromwell, 420 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 forgo
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
For ever and for ever shall be yours.

Car. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear
In all my miseries: but thou hast forc'd me,
Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman.

424

428

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

432

436

Of me more must be heard of, say, I taught thee:
Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory,
And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour,
Found thee a way, out of his wrack, to rise in;
A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it.
Mark but my fall, and that that ruin'd me.
Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition.
By that sin fell the angels: how can man then,
The image of his Maker, hope to win by it?
Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee;
Corruption wins not 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,

440

448

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,

452

To the last penny: 'tis the king's. My robe,
And my integrity to heaven is all

456

I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell!
Had I but serv'd my God with half the zeal
I serv'd my king, he would not in mine age
Have left me naked to mine enemies.

Crom. Good sir, have patience.

Car.

So I have.

Farewell

The hopes of court! my hopes in heaven do dwell. 460

ACT FOURTH

Exeunt.

Scene One

[A Street in Westminster]

Enter two Gentlemen, meeting one another.

1. Gent. Y' are well met once again.

2. Gent.

So are you.

1. Gent. You come to take your stand here, and behold

The Lady Anne pass from her coronation?

2. Gent. 'Tis all my business. At our last encoun

ter

The Duke of Buckingham came from his trial.

1. Gent. 'Tis very true: but that time offer'd sorrow; This, general joy.

martyr; cf. n.

450 Thou
Scene One; cf. n.

456-458 Cf. n. 4 last encounter; cf. n.

2. Gent.

'Tis well: the citizens,

I am sure, have shown at full their royal minds,
As, let 'em have their rights, they are ever forward,
In celebration of this day with shows,

Pageants, and sights of honour.

1. 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 custom of the coronation.

The Duke of Suffolk is the first, and claims

To be high-steward; next, the Duke of Norfolk,
He to be earl marshal: you may read the rest.

8

12

16

2. Gent. I thank you, sir: had I not known those customs,

I should have been beholding to your paper.

20

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 24

Of Canterbury, accompanied with other

Learned and reverend fathers of his order,
Held a late court at Dunstable, six miles off
From Ampthill, where the princess lay; to which
She was often 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.

15 Of those that claim; cf. n.

34 Kimbolton; cf. n.

28

82

27 Dunstable; cf. n.