SCEN E III.
Enter King reading a schedule, and Lovell.
Sur. I would 'twere fomething that would fret the ftring The mafter-cord of's heart!
Suf. The King, the King.
King. What piles of wealth hath he accumulated
To his own portion! what expence 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?
Stood here obferving him. Some ftrange commotion
Is in his brain; he bites his lips and starts,
Stops on a fudden, looks upon the ground,
Then lays his finger on his temple; ftrait
Springs out into faft gate, then stops again,
Strikes his breaft hard, and then anon he casts
His eye against the moon; in most strange postures
We've feen him fet himself.
There is a mutiny in's mind. This morning
Papers of ftate he sent me to peruse,
As I requir'd; and wot you what I found
There, on my confcience put unwittingly?
Forfooth an inventory, thus importing;
The feveral parcels of his plate, his treasure,
Rich stuffs and ornaments of houfhold, which
I find at fuch a proud rate, it out-fpeaks
Poffeffion of a fubject.
Nor. It's heav'n's will,
Some spirit put this paper in the packet,
To blefs your eye withal.
King. If we did think
His contemplations were above the earth,
And fix'd on fpiritual objects, he should still
Dwell in his musings; but I am afraid
His thinkings are below the moon, nor worth
His ferious confidering.
[He takes his feat, whispers Lovell, who goes to Wolfey. Wol. Heav'n forgive me
Ever God bless your Highness
You are full of heav'nly stuff, and bear the inventory
in your mind; the which
You were now running o'er; you have scarce time
To steal from spiritual leifure a brief span
To keep your earthly audit; fure in that
I deem you an ill husband, and am glad
To have you therein my companion.
Wol. Sir,
For holy offices I have a time;
A time to think upon the part of business
I bear i' th' ftate; and nature does require
Her times of prefervation, which perforce
I her frail fon, amongst my brethren mortal,
Must give my tendance to.
King. You have faid well.
Wol. And ever may your Highness yoke together, As I will lend you caufe, my doing well
With my well faying!
King. 'Tis well faid again,
And 'tis a kind of good deed to fay well,
And yet words are no deeds.
My father lov'd you,
He faid he did, and with his deed did crown
His word upon you. Since I had my office
I've kept you next my heart, have not alone
Imploy'd you where high profits might come home,
But par'd my prefent havings, to bestow
My bounties upon you.
Wol. What fhould this mean?
Sur. The Lord increase this bufinefs!
King. Have I not made you
The prime man of the ftate? I pray you tell me,
If what I now pronounce you have found true:
And if you may confefs it, fay withal
If you are bound to us, or no? what fay you?
Wol. My Sovereign, I confefs your royal graces
Showr'd on me daily have been more than could
My ftudied purposes require; they went
Beyond all man's 'ambition. My endeavours
Have ever come too fhort of my defires,
Yet fil'd with my abilities: mine own
Ends have been fuch that evermore they pointed
To th' good of your most facred person, and
The profit of the state: For your great graces
Heap'd upon me, poor undeferver, I
Can nothing render but allegiant thanks,
My prayers to heav'n for you; my loyalty,
Which ever has, and ever fhall be growing,
'Till death, that winter, kill it.
A loyal and obedient fubject is
Therein illuftrated; the honour of it
Does pay the act of it, 'o' th' contrary
The foulness is the punishment. I prefume
That as my hand has open'd bounty to you,
My heart dropp'd love, my pow'r rain'd honour, more
On you, than any; fo 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 Highnefs' good I ever labour'd
More than mine own; that am I, have been, will be:
Though all the world fhould crack their duty to you,
And throw it from their foul; though perils did
Abound, as thick as thought could make 'em, and
Appear in forms more horrid; yet my duty,
As doth a rock againft the chiding flood,
Should the approach of this wild river break,
And ftand unfhaken yours.
King. 'Tis nobly spoken;
Take notice, Lords, he has a loyal breast,
For you have seen him open't. Read o'er this,
And after this; and then to breakfast, with
What appetite you may.
[Exit King, frowning upon Cardinal Wolfey, the
Nobles throng after him whispering and fmiling.
Wol. What fhould this mean?
What fudden 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
I fear, the story of his anger 'tis fo
This paper has undone me 'tis th' account
Of all that world of wealth I've 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 fecret in the packet
I fent 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 fpight 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 Holinefs. Nay, then farewel;
I've touch'd the highest point of all my greatness,
And from that full meridian of my glory,
I hafte now to my fetting. I fhall fall
Like a bright exhalation in the evening,
And no man fee me more.
Enter to Wolfey, the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, the Earl of Surrey, and the Lord Chamberlain,
Nor. Hear the King's pleasure, Cardinal, who commands you
To render up the great feal presently
Into our hands, and to confine your felf
To Afber-boufe, my Lord of Winchester's,
'Till you hear further from his Highness.
Wol. Stay:
Where's your commiffion, Lords? words cannot carry
Authority fo mighty.
Bearing the King's will from his mouth expresly?
Wol."'Whilft I find more than his will, or words to it,'
I mean your malice, know, officious Lords,
I dare, and muft deny it. Now I feel
Of what coarse metal ye are molded
How eagerly ye follow my difgrace
As if it fed ye, and how fleek and wanton
appear in every thing may bring my ruin.
Follow your envious courses, men of malice;
You have a chriftian warrant for 'em, and
In time will find their fit rewards. That feal
You ask with fuch a violence, the King
(Mine and your Master) with his own hand gave me ;
Bad me enjoy it, with the place and honours,
During my life; and to confirm his goodness,
Ty'd it by letters patents. Now, who'll take it?
Sur. The King that gave it.
Wol. It must be himself then.
6 'Till I find more than will, or words to do it,
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