| ACT III SCENE II | Ante-chamber to KING HENRY VIII's apartment. |
| [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, | 5 |
| 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. | 10 |
| 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? | 15 |
| 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 | 20 |
| 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 | 25 |
| 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. | 30 |
| 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 | 35 |
| 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, | 40 |
| 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.' | 45 |
| 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 | 50 |
| 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 | 55 |
| For, I profess, you have it. |
| SURREY | Now, all my joy |
| Trace the conjunction! |
| SUFFOLK | My amen to't! |
| NORFOLK | All men's! | 60 |
| 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 | 65 |
| 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! | 70 |
| 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; | 75 |
| 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, | 80 |
| 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, | 85 |
| 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 | 90 |
| 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 | 95 |
| For it an archbishop. |
| NORFOLK | So I hear. |
| SUFFOLK | 'Tis so. |
| The cardinal! |
| [Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY and CROMWELL] |
| NORFOLK | Observe, observe, he's moody. | 100 |
| 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 | 105 |
| 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. |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | Is he ready | 110 |
| To come abroad? |
| CROMWELL | I think, by this he is. |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | Leave me awhile. |
[Exit CROMWELL] |
[Aside] |
| It shall be to the Duchess of Alencon, |
| The French king's sister: he shall marry her. | 115 |
| 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. | 120 |
| 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,
| 125 |
| 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 | 130 |
| 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, | 135 |
| 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! | 140 |
| 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? | 145 |
| 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 | 150 |
| 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; | 155 |
| 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; | 160 |
| 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: | 165 |
| 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 | 170 |
| 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! | 175 |
| 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 | 180 |
| To keep your earthly audit: sure, in that |
| I deem you an ill husband, and am glad |
| To have you therein my companion. |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | Sir, |
| For holy offices I have a time; a time | 185 |
| 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. | 190 |
| 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; | 195 |
| 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 | 200 |
| 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!
| 205 |
| 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? | 210 |
| 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, | 215 |
| 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 | 220 |
| 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; | 225 |
| 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, | 230 |
| 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 | 235 |
| To me, your friend, than any. |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | I do profess |
| 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, | 240 |
| 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, | 245 |
| 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 | 250 |
| What appetite you have. |
| [
Exit KING HENRY VIII, frowning upon CARDINAL WOLSEY:
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 | 255 |
| 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 | 260 |
| 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? | 265 |
| 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 | 270 |
| 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, | 275 |
| And no man see me more. |
| [
Re-enter to CARDINAL WOLSEY, NORFOLK and SUFFOLK, SURREY,
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, | 280 |
| Till you hear further from his highness. |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | Stay: |
| Where's your commission, lords? words cannot carry |
| Authority so weighty. |
| SUFFOLK | Who dare cross 'em, | 285 |
| 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: | 290 |
| 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, | 295 |
| 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, | 300 |
| 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: | 305 |
| 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: | 310 |
| 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 | 315 |
| 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, | 320 |
| 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 | 325 |
| 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. | 330 |
| 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? | 335 |
| 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. |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | All goodness | 340 |
| 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 | 345 |
| 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, | 350 |
| 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. | 355 |
| 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 | 360 |
| 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. | 365 |
| 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. | 370 |
| 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 | 375 |
| 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 | 380 |
| 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, | 385 |
| 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-- | 390 |
| 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. | 395 |
| 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. | 400 |
| 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, | 405 |
| 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 | 410 |
| 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. | 415 |
| 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, | 420 |
| 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, | 425 |
| 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: | 430 |
| 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: | 435 |
| 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. |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | What, amazed | 440 |
| 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? |
| CARDINAL WOLSEY | Why, well; | 445 |
| 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, | 450 |
| 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. | 455 |
| 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? | 460 |
| 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. | 465 |
| 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, | 470 |
| 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, | 475 |
| 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, | 480 |
| 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; | 485 |
| 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-- | 490 |
| 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, | 495 |
| 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 | 500 |
| 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; | 505 |
| 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, | 510 |
| 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, | 515 |
| 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: | 520 |
| 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: | 525 |
| 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 | 530 |
| 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. | 535 |
| [Exeunt] |
The Essential Student History Quiz (with answers and illustrations)