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Wol.

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?

Crom.

That Cranmer is return'd with welcome,

Install'd lord archbishop of Canterbury.
Wol. That's news indeed.

Crom.

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.

Wol. 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 fallen 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.

Crom.

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.

Wol. 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.

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't?
Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee;
Corruption wins not more than honesty.

Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace,

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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,-Pr'ythee, 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 serv'd my God with half the zeal

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HAD I BUT SERVD MY GOD WITH HALF THE ZEAL

I SERV'D MY KING, HE WOULD NOT IN MINE AGE

HAVE LEFT ME NAKED TO MINE ENEMIES."

Act 3 Scene 2.

London Published by Thomas Tegg N° Cheapside June 11814.

Printed by Dixon.

I serv'd my king, he would not in mine age
Have left me naked to mine enemies.
Crom. Good sir, have patience.

Wol.

So I have. Farewell

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

[Exeunt.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.-A street in Westminster.

Enter two Gentlemen, meeting.

1 Gent. You are well met once again. 2 Gent.

And 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 encounter, The duke of Buckingham came from his trial.

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

2 Gent.

'Tis well: The citizens,

I am sure, have shown at full their royal minds;

As, let them 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?

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