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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.

SURREY.

Item, you sent a large commission

To Gregory de Cassado, to conclude,

Without the King's will or the state's allowance,

A league between his Highness and Ferrara.

SUFFOLK.

That out of mere ambition you have caus'd

Your holy hat to be stamp'd on the King's coin.

SURREY.

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

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.

CHAMBERLAIN.

O my lord,

Press not a falling man too far! 'Tis 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.

SURREY.

I forgive him.

SUFFOLK.

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 th' compass of a praemunire-

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.

NORFOLK.

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

WOLSEY.

So farewell to the little good you bear me.

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, standing amazed

Why, how now, Cromwell!

CROMWELL.

I have no power to speak, sir.

WOLSEY.

What, amaz'd

At my misfortunes? Can thy spirit wonder

A great man should decline? Nay, an you weep,

I am fall'n indeed.

CROMWELL.

How does your Grace?

WOLSEY.

Why, well;

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!

CROMWELL.

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

WOLSEY.

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?

CROMWELL.

The heaviest and the worst

Is your displeasure with the King.

WOLSEY.

God bless him!

CROMWELL.

The next is that Sir Thomas More is chosen

Lord Chancellor in your place.

WOLSEY.

That's somewhat sudden.

But he's a learned man. May he continue

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