NORFOLK
If you will now unite in your complaints
And force them with a constancy, the Cardinal
Cannot stand under them. If you omit
The offer of this time, I cannot promise
But that you shall sustain more new disgraces
With these you bear already.
SURREY
I am joyful
To meet the least occasion that may give me
Remembrance of my father-in-law the Duke,
To be revenged on him.
SUFFOLK
Which of the peers
Have uncontemned gone by him, or at least
Strangely neglected? When did he regard
The stamp of nobleness in any person
Out of himself?
CHAMBERLAIN
My lords, you speak your pleasures.
What he deserves of you and me I know;
What we can do to him—though now the time
Gives way to us—I much fear. If you cannot
Bar his access to th’ King, never attempt
Anything on him, for he a witchcraft
Over the King in ’s tongue.
NORFOLK
O, fear him not.
His spell in that is out. The King found
Matter against him that for ever mars
The honey of his language. No, he’s settled,
Not to come off, in his displeasure.
SURREY
Sir,
I should be glad to hear such news as this
Once every hour.
NORFOLK
Believe it, this is true.
In the divorce his contrary proceedings
Are all unfolded, wherein he appears
As I would wish mine enemy.
SURREY
How came
His practices to light?
SUFFOLK
Most strangely.
SURREY
O, how, how?
SUFFOLK
The Cardinal’s letters to the Pope miscarried,
And came to th’ eye o’ the King, wherein was read
How that the Cardinal did entreat his Holiness
To stay the judgement o’ th’ divorce; for if
It did take place, “I do” quoth he “perceive
My king is tangled in affection to
A creature of the Queen’s, Lady Anne Bullen.”
SURREY
Has the King this?
SUFFOLK
Believe it.
SURREY
Will this work?
CHAMBERLAIN
The King in this perceives him how he coasts
And hedges his own way. But in this point
All his tricks founder, and he brings his physic
After his patient’s death. The King already
married the fair lady.
SURREY
Would he had!
SUFFOLK
May you be happy in your wish, my lord,
For I profess you have it.
SURREY
Now, all my joy
Trace the conjunction!
SUFFOLK
My amen to’t!
NORFOLK
All men’s.
SUFFOLK
There’s order given for her coronation.
Marry, this is yet but young, and may be left
To some ears unrecounted. But, my lords,
She is a gallant creature, and complete
In mind and feature. I persuade me, from her
Will fall some blessing to this land which shall
In it be memorized.
SURREY
But will the King
Digest this letter of the Cardinal’s?
The Lord forbid!
NORFOLK
Marry, amen!
SUFFOLK
No, no.
There be more wasps that buzz about his nose
Will make this sting the sooner. Cardinal Campeius
Is stolen away to Rome; ta’en no leave;
Has left the cause o’ th’ King unhandled, and
Is posted, as the agent of our Cardinal,
To second all his plot. I do assure you
The King cried “Ha!” at this.
CHAMBERLAIN
Now, God incense him,
And let him cry “Ha!” louder.
NORFOLK
But, my lord,
When returns Cranmer?
SUFFOLK
He is returned in his opinions, which
Have satisfied the King for his divorce,
Together with all famous colleges
Almost in Christendom. Shortly, I believe,
His second marriage shall be published, and
Her coronation. Katherine no more
Shall be called Queen, but Princess Dowager
And widow to Prince Arthur.
NORFOLK
This same Cranmer’s
A worthy fellow, and ta’en much pain
In the King’s business.
SUFFOLK
He has, and we shall see him
For it an archbishop.
NORFOLK
So I hear.
SUFFOLK
so.
SUFFOLK
The Cardinal!
NORFOLK
Observe, observe; he’s moody.
WOLSEY
The packet, Cromwell,
Gave’t you the King?
CROMWELL
To his own hand, in ’s bedchamber.
WOLSEY
Looked he o’ th’ inside of the paper?
CROMWELL
He did unseal them, and the first he viewed,
He did it with a serious mind; a heed
Was in his countenance. You he bade
Attend him here this morning.
WOLSEY
Is he ready
To come abroad?
CROMWELL
I think by this he is.
WOLSEY
Leave me a while.
WOLSEY
It shall be to the Duchess of Alençon,
The French king’s sister; he shall marry her.
Anne Bullen? No; I’ll no Anne Bullens for him.
There’s more in’t than fair visage. Bullen?
No, we’ll no Bullens. Speedily I wish
To hear from Rome. The Marchioness of Pembroke!
NORFOLK
He’s discontented.
SUFFOLK
Maybe he hears the King
Does whet his anger to him.
SURREY
Sharp enough,
Lord, for justice!
WOLSEY
The late queen’s gentlewoman, a knight’s daughter,
To be her mistress’ mistress? The Queen’s Queen?
This candle burns not clear. I must snuff it;
Then out it goes. What though I know her virtuous
And well deserving? Yet I know her for
A spleeny Lutheran, and not wholesome to
Our cause, that she should lie i’ th’ bosom of
Our hard-ruled King. Again, there is sprung up
An heretic, an arch-one, Cranmer, one
crawled into the favour of the King
And is his oracle.
NORFOLK
He is vexed at something.
SURREY
I would ’twere something that would fret the string,
The master-cord on ’s heart.
SUFFOLK
The King, the King!
KING
What piles of wealth he accumulated
To his own portion! And what expense by th’ hour
Seems to flow from him! How, i’ th’ name of thrift
Does he rake this together? Now, my lords,
Saw you the Cardinal?
NORFOLK
My lord, we have
Stood here observing him. Some strange commotion
Is in his brain. He bites his lip, and starts,
Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground,
Then lays his finger on his temple; straight
Springs out into fast gait; then stops again,
Strikes his breast hard, and he casts
His eye against the moon. In most strange postures
We have seen him set himself.
KING
It may well be
There is a mutiny in ’s mind. This morning
Papers of state he sent me to peruse,
As I required; and wot you what I found
There—on my conscience, put unwittingly?
, an inventory, thus importing
The several parcels of his plate, his treasure,
Rich stuffs and ornaments of household, which
I find at such proud rate that it outspeaks
Possession of a subject.
NORFOLK
It’s heaven’s will!
Some spirit put this paper in the packet
To bless your eye .
KING
If we did think
His contemplation were above the earth
And fixed on spiritual object, he should still
Dwell in his musings, but I am afraid
His thinkings are below the moon, not worth
His serious considering.
WOLSEY
Heaven forgive me!
Ever God bless your Highness.
KING
Good my lord,
You are full of heavenly stuff, and bear the inventory
Of your best graces in your mind, the which
You were now running . You have scarce time
To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span
To keep your earthly audit. Sure, in that
I deem you an ill husband, and am glad
To have you therein my companion.
WOLSEY
Sir,
For holy offices I have a time; a time
To think upon the part of business which
I bear i’ th’ state; and Nature does require
Her times of preservation, which perforce
I, her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal,
Must give my tendance to.
KING
You have said well.
WOLSEY
And ever may your Highness yoke together,
As I will lend you cause, my doing well
With my well saying.
KING
well said again,
And a kind of good deed to say well.
And yet words are no deeds. My father loved you;
He said he did, and with his deed did crown
His word upon you. Since I had my office,
I have kept you next my heart, have not alone
Employed you where high profits might come home,
But pared my present havings to bestow
My bounties upon you.
WOLSEY
What should this mean?
SURREY
The Lord increase this business!
KING
Have I not made you
The prime man of the state? I pray you tell me,
If what I now pronounce you have found true,
And, if you may confess it, say
If you are bound to us or no. What say you?
WOLSEY
My sovereign, I confess your royal graces,
Showered on me daily, have been more than could
My studied purposes requite, which went
Beyond all man’s endeavours. My endeavours
Have ever come too short of my desires,
Yet filed with my abilities. Mine own ends
Have been mine so that evermore they pointed
To th’ good of your most sacred person and
The profit of the state. For your great graces
Heaped upon me, poor undeserver, I
Can nothing render but allegiant thanks,
My prayers to heaven for you, my loyalty,
Which ever has and ever shall be growing,
Till death, that winter, kill it.
KING
Fairly answered.
A loyal and obedient subject is
Therein illustrated. The honour of it
Does pay the act of it, as i’ th’ contrary,
The foulness is the punishment. I presume
That, as my hand has opened bounty to you,
My heart dropped love, my power rained honour, more
On you than any, so your hand and heart,
Your brain, and every function of your power,
Should, notwithstanding that your bond of duty,
As ’twere in love’s particular, be more
To me, your friend, than any.
WOLSEY
I do profess
That for your Highness’ good I ever laboured
More than mine own, that am, have, and will be.
Though all the world should crack their duty to you
And throw it from their soul, though perils did
Abound as thick as thought could make ’em, and
Appear in forms more horrid—yet my duty,
As a rock against the chiding flood,
Should the approach of this wild river break,
And stand unshaken yours.
KING
nobly spoken.
Take notice, lords: he has a loyal breast,
For you have seen him open’t.
KING
Read this,
And after, this; and then to breakfast with
What appetite you have.
WOLSEY
What should this mean?
What sudden anger’s this? How have I reaped it?
He parted frowning from me, as if ruin
Leaped from his eyes. So looks the chafed lion
Upon the daring huntsman that has galled him,
Then makes him nothing. I must read this paper—
I fear, the story of his anger. so.
This paper has undone me. th’ account
Of all that world of wealth I have drawn together
For mine own ends—indeed, to gain the popedom
And fee my friends in Rome. O negligence,
Fit for a fool to fall by! What cross devil
Made me put this main secret in the packet
I sent the King? Is there no way to cure this?
No new device to beat this from his brains?
I know ’twill stir him strongly; yet I know
A way, if it take right, in spite of fortune,
Will bring me off again. What’s this? “To th’ Pope”?
The letter, as I live, with all the business
I writ to ’s Holiness. Nay then, farewell!
I have touched the highest point of all my greatness,
And from that full meridian of my glory
I haste now to my setting. I shall fall
Like a bright exhalation in the evening,
And no man see me more.
NORFOLK
Hear the King’s pleasure, Cardinal, who commands you
To render up the great seal
Into our hands, and to confine yourself
To Asher House, my Lord of Winchester’s,
Till you hear further from his Highness.
WOLSEY
Stay.
Where’s your commission, lords? Words cannot carry
Authority so weighty.
SUFFOLK
Who dares cross ’em,
Bearing the King’s will from his mouth expressly?
WOLSEY
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 are moulded, envy!
How eagerly follow my disgraces,
As if it fed , and how sleek and wanton
appear in everything may bring my ruin!
Follow your envious courses, men of malice;
You have Christian warrant for ’em, 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-patents. Now, who’ll take it?
SURREY
The King that gave it.
WOLSEY
It must be himself, then.
SURREY
art a proud traitor, priest.
WOLSEY
Proud lord, liest.
Within these forty hours Surrey durst better
Have burnt that tongue than said so.
SURREY
ambition,
scarlet sin, robbed this bewailing land
Of noble Buckingham, my father-in-law.
The heads of all brother cardinals,
With and all best parts bound together,
Weighed 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 gav’st him,
Whilst your great goodness, out of holy pity,
Absolved him with an axe.
WOLSEY
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 loved 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.
SURREY
By my soul,
Your long coat, priest, protects you; feel
My sword i’ th’ lifeblood of else. My lords,
Can 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.
WOLSEY
All goodness
Is poison to stomach.
SURREY
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 despised 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
Lay kissing in your arms, Lord Cardinal.
WOLSEY
How much, , I could despise this man,
But that I am bound in charity against it!
NORFOLK
Those articles, my lord, are in the King’s hand;
But thus much, they are foul ones.
WOLSEY
So much fairer
And spotless shall mine innocence arise
When the King knows my truth.
SURREY
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.
WOLSEY
Speak on, sir;
I dare your worst objections. If I blush,
It is to see a nobleman want manners.
SURREY
I had 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 maimed the jurisdiction of all bishops.
NORFOLK
Then, that in all you writ to Rome, or else
To foreign princes, “ego et rex meus”
Was still inscribed, in which you brought the King
To be your servant.
SUFFOLK
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 caused
Your holy hat to be stamped 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! 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 legative 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.
WOLSEY
So farewell to the little good you bear me.
Farewell? A long farewell to all my greatness!
This is the state of man: today he puts forth
The tender leaves of hopes; tomorrow 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 ventured,
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 !
I feel my heart new opened. 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.
WOLSEY
Why, how now, Cromwell?
CROMWELL
I have no power to speak, sir.
WOLSEY
What, amazed
At my misfortunes? Can spirit wonder
A great man should decline? Nay, an you weep,
I am fallen 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 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 honour.
O, a burden, Cromwell, 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, ,
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 wept on him.
What more?
CROMWELL
That Cranmer is returned with welcome,
Installed Lord Archbishop of Canterbury.
WOLSEY
That’s news indeed.
CROMWELL
Last, that the Lady Anne,
Whom the King 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.
WOLSEY
There was the weight that pulled 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 from me, Cromwell.
I am a poor fallen man, unworthy now
To be lord and master. Seek the King;
That sun, I pray, may never set! I have told him
What and how true art. He will advance ;
Some little memory of me will stir him—
I know his noble nature—not to let
hopeful service perish too. Good Cromwell,
Neglect him not; make use now, and provide
For own future safety.
CROMWELL
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.
WOLSEY
Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear
In all my miseries, but forced me,
Out of 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 more must be heard of, say, I taught ;
Say Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory
And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour,
Found a way, out of his wreck, to rise in,
A sure and safe one, though master missed it.
Mark but my fall and that that ruined me.
Cromwell, I charge , 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 .
Corruption wins not more than honesty.
Still in right hand carry gentle peace
To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not.
Let all the ends aim’st at be country’s,
God’s, and truth’s. Then if fall’st, O Cromwell,
fall’st a blessed martyr!
Serve the King. And, , lead me in.
There take an inventory of all I have.
To the last penny; the King’s. My robe
And my integrity to heaven is all
I dare now call mine 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.
CROMWELL
Good sir, have patience.
WOLSEY
So I have. Farewell,
The hopes of court! My hopes in heaven do dwell.