The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, William Shakespeare [book recommendations based on other books txt] 📗

of good deed to say well; And yet words are no deeds. My father lov’d 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 Employ’d you where high profits might come home, But par’d my present havings to bestow My bounties upon you.

WOLSEY. [Aside] What should this mean?

SURREY. [Aside] 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 withal If you are bound to us or no. What say you?

WOLSEY. My sovereign, I confess your royal graces, Show’r’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 fil’d 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 Heap’d upon me, poor undeserver, I

Can nothing render but allegiant thanks; My pray’rs to heaven for you; my loyalty, Which ever has and ever shall be growing, Till death, that winter, kill it.

KING. Fairly answer’d!

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 open’d bounty to you, My heart dropp’d love, my pow’r 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.

WOLSEY. I do profess

That for your Highness’ good I ever labour’d More than mine own; that am, have, and will beThough 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. ‘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.

Exit the KING, frowning upon the CARDINAL; the NOBLES

throng after him, smiling and whispering 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 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 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 in the evening, And no man see me more.

 

Re-enter to WOLSEY the DUKES OF NORFOLK and SUFFOLK, the EARL OF SURREY, and the LORD

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.

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 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.

WOLSEY. It must be himself then.

SURREY. Thou art a proud traitor, priest.

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 succour, from the King, from all That might have mercy on the fault thou gav’st him; Whilst your great goodness, out of holy pity, Absolv’d 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 lov’d 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 an that love his follies.

SURREY. By my soul,

Your long coat, priest, protects you; thou shouldst feel My sword i’ the lifeblood 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.

WOLSEY. All goodness

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 th’ 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 despis’d nobility, our issues, Whom, 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 wench Lay kissing in your arms, Lord 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.

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 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 inscrib’d; 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 caus’d 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 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.

Exeunt all but WOLSEY

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; 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 ventur’d, 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, standing amazed

 

Why, how now, Cromwell!

CROMWELL. I have no power to speak, sir.

WOLSEY. What, amaz’d

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?

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 cur’d me, I humbly thank his Grace; and from these shoulders, These ruin’d pillars, out of pity, taken A load would sink a