Document:  All > Shakespeare > Histories > King Henry VIII > Act III, scene II

	[Enter NORFOLK, SUFFOLK, SURREY, and Chamberlain]

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 moe 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 uncontemn'd 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 the king, never attempt
	Any thing on him; for he hath a witchcraft
	Over the king in's tongue.

NORFOLK: O, fear him not;
	His spell in that is out: the king hath found
	Matter against him that for ever mars
	The honey of his language. No, he's settled,
	Not to come off, in his displeasure.

	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 practises to light?

SUFFOLK: Most strangely.

SURREY: O, how, how?

SUFFOLK: The cardinal's letters to the pope miscarried,
	And came to the eye o' the king: wherein was read,
	How that the cardinal did entreat his holiness
	To stay the judgment o' the 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
	Hath 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 memorised.

SURREY: But, will the king
	Digest this letter of the cardinal's?
	The Lord forbid!

NORFOLK:                   Marry, amen!

SUFFOLK: No, no;
	There be moe wasps that buzz about his nose
	Will make this sting the sooner. Cardinal Campeius
	Is stol'n away to Rome; hath ta'en no leave;
	Has left the cause o' the 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 return'd 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 publish'd, and
	Her coronation. Katharine no more
	Shall be call'd queen, but princess dowager
	And widow to Prince Arthur.

NORFOLK: This same Cranmer's
	A worthy fellow, and hath 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: 'Tis so.
	The cardinal!


NORFOLK:                   Observe, observe, he's moody.

CARDINAL WOLSEY: The packet, Cromwell.
	Gave't you the king?

CROMWELL: To his own hand, in's bedchamber.

CARDINAL WOLSEY: Look'd he o' the inside of the paper?

CROMWELL: Presently
	He did unseal them: and the first he view'd,
	He did it with a serious mind; a heed
	Was in his countenance. You he bade
	Attend him here this morning.

	To come abroad?

CROMWELL:                   I think, by this he is.

CARDINAL WOLSEY: Leave me awhile.



	It shall be to the Duchess of Alencon,
	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:                   May be, he hears the king
	Does whet his anger to him.

SURREY: Sharp enough,
	Lord, for thy justice!

CARDINAL WOLSEY: [Aside]  The late queen's gentlewoman,
	a knight's daughter,
	To be her mistress' mistress! the queen's queen!
	This candle burns not clear: 'tis 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' the bosom of
	Our hard-ruled king. Again, there is sprung up
	An heretic, an arch one, Cranmer; one
	Hath crawl'd into the favour of the king,
	And is his oracle.

NORFOLK:                   He is vex'd at something.

SURREY: I would 'twere something that would fret the string,
	The master-cord on's heart!

	[Enter KING HENRY VIII, reading of a schedule, and LOVELL]

SUFFOLK: The king, the king!

KING HENRY VIII: What piles of wealth hath he accumulated
	To his own portion! and what expense by the hour
	Seems to flow from him! How, i' the 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 anon he casts
	His eye against the moon: in most strange postures
	We have seen him set himself.

KING HENRY VIII: 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?
	Forsooth, 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 out-speaks
	Possession of a subject.

NORFOLK: It's heaven's will:
	Some spirit put this paper in the packet,
	To bless your eye withal.

KING HENRY VIII: If we did think
	His contemplation were above the earth,
	And fix'd 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.

	[King HENRY VIII takes his seat; whispers LOVELL,
	who goes to CARDINAL WOLSEY]

CARDINAL WOLSEY: Heaven forgive me!
	Ever God bless your highness!

KING HENRY VIII: 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 o'er: 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.

	For holy offices I have a time; a time
	To think upon the part of business which
	I bear i' the state; and nature does require
	Her times of preservation, which perforce
	I, her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal,
	Must give my tendence to.

KING HENRY VIII: You have said well.

CARDINAL WOLSEY: And ever may your highness yoke together,
	As I will lend you cause, my doing well
	With my well saying!

KING HENRY VIII: 'Tis well said again;
	And 'tis a kind of good deed to say well:
	And yet words are no deeds. My father loved you:
	His 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
	Employ'd you where high profits might come home,
	But pared my present havings, to bestow
	My bounties upon you.

CARDINAL WOLSEY: [Aside]             What should this mean?

SURREY: [Aside]  The Lord increase this business!

KING HENRY VIII: 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 withal,
	If you are bound to us or no. What say you?

CARDINAL WOLSEY: My sovereign, I confess your royal graces,
	Shower'd 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 the good of your most sacred person and
	The profit of the state. For your great graces
	Heap'd 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 HENRY VIII: Fairly answer'd;
	A loyal and obedient subject is
	Therein illustrated: the honour of it
	Does pay the act of it; as, i' the contrary,
	The foulness is the punishment. I presume
	That, as my hand has open'd bounty to you,
	My heart dropp'd love, my power rain'd 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.

	That for your highness' good I ever labour'd
	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 doth a rock against the chiding flood,
	Should the approach of this wild river break,
	And stand unshaken yours.

KING HENRY VIII: 'Tis nobly spoken:
	Take notice, lords, he has a loyal breast,
	For you have seen him open't. Read o'er this;

	[Giving him papers]

	And after, this: and then to breakfast with
	What appetite you have.

	the Nobles throng after him, smiling and whispering]

CARDINAL WOLSEY: What should this mean?
	What sudden anger's this? how have I reap'd it?
	He parted frowning from me, as if ruin
	Leap'd from his eyes: so looks the chafed lion
	Upon the daring huntsman that has gall'd him;
	Then makes him nothing. I must read this paper;
	I fear, the story of his anger. 'Tis so;
	This paper has undone me: 'tis the 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 the Pope!'
	The letter, as I live, with all the business
	I writ to's holiness. Nay then, farewell!
	I have touch'd 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 m the evening,
	And no man see me more.

	and the Chamberlain]

NORFOLK: 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.

	Where's your commission, lords? words cannot carry
	Authority so weighty.

SUFFOLK: Who dare cross 'em,
	Bearing the king's will from his mouth expressly?

CARDINAL 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 ye are moulded, envy:
	How eagerly ye follow my disgraces,
	As if it fed ye! and how sleek and wanton
	Ye appear in every thing 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.

CARDINAL WOLSEY: It must be himself, then.

SURREY: Thou art a proud traitor, priest.

CARDINAL WOLSEY: Proud lord, thou liest:
	Within these forty hours Surrey durst better
	Have burnt that tongue than said so.

SURREY: 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 succor, from the king, from all
	That might have mercy on the fault thou gavest him;
	Whilst your great goodness, out of holy pity,
	Absolved him with an axe.

CARDINAL 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; thou
	shouldst feel
	My sword i' the life-blood of thee else. My lords,
	Can ye 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.

	Is poison to thy 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 scaring bell, when the brown wench
	Lay kissing in your arms, lord cardinal.

CARDINAL WOLSEY: How much, methinks, 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.

CARDINAL 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.

CARDINAL 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 maim'd 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 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 the 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 CARDINAL WOLSEY]

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: 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 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 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, and stands amazed]

		Why, how now, Cromwell!

CROMWELL: I have no power to speak, sir.

	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?

	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 ruin'd pillars, out of pity, taken
	A load would sink a navy, too much honour:
	O, 'tis a burthen, Cromwell, 'tis a burthen
	Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven!

CROMWELL: I am glad your grace has made that right use of it.

CARDINAL 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.

CARDINAL WOLSEY: God bless him!

CROMWELL: The next is, that Sir Thomas More is chosen
	Lord chancellor in your place.

CARDINAL 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 em! What more?

CROMWELL: That Cranmer is return'd with welcome,
	Install'd lord archbishop of Canterbury.

CARDINAL WOLSEY: That's news indeed.

CROMWELL: Last, that the Lady Anne,
	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.

CARDINAL WOLSEY: 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;
	That sun, I pray, may never set! I have told him
	What and how true thou art: he will advance thee;
	Some little memory of me will stir him--
	I know his noble nature--not to let
	Thy hopeful service perish too: good Cromwell,
	Neglect him not; make use now, and provide
	For thine own future safety.

CROMWELL: O my lord,
	Must I, then, leave you? must I needs forego
	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.

CARDINAL WOLSEY: Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear
	In all my miseries; but thou hast forced me,
	Out of thy 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 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 wreck, 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,
	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,
	To the last penny; 'tis 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.

CARDINAL WOLSEY: So I have. Farewell
	The hopes of court! my hopes in heaven do dwell.



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