Henry VIII — Act 3, Scene 2 · Shakespeare for Bharat

NORFOLK

If you will now unite in your complaints,And force them with a constancy, the cardinalCannot stand under them: if you omitThe offer of this time, I cannot promiseBut that you shall sustain moe new disgraces,With these you bear already.

SURREY

I am joyfulTo meet the least occasion that may give meRemembrance of my father-in-law, the duke,To be revenged on him.

SUFFOLK

Which of the peersHave uncontemn'd gone by him, or at leastStrangely neglected? when did he regardThe stamp of nobleness in any personOut 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 timeGives way to us, I much fear. If you cannotBar his access to the king, never attemptAny thing on him; for he hath a witchcraftOver the king in's tongue.

NORFOLK

O, fear him not;His spell in that is out: the king hath foundMatter against him that for ever marsThe 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 thisOnce every hour.

NORFOLK

Believe it, this is true:In the divorce his contrary proceedingsAre all unfolded wherein he appearsAs I would wish mine enemy.

SURREY

How cameHis 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 holinessTo stay the judgment o' the divorce; for ifIt did take place, 'I do,' quoth he, 'perceiveMy king is tangled in affection toA 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 coastsAnd hedges his own way. But in this pointAll his tricks founder, and he brings his physicAfter his patient's death: the king alreadyHath married the fair lady.

SURREY

Would he had!

SUFFOLK

May you be happy in your wish, my lordFor, I profess, you have it.

SURREY

Now, all my joyTrace 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 leftTo some ears unrecounted. But, my lords,She is a gallant creature, and completeIn mind and feature: I persuade me, from herWill fall some blessing to this land, which shallIn it be memorised.

SURREY

But, will the kingDigest this letter of the cardinal's?The Lord forbid!

NORFOLK

Marry, amen!

SUFFOLK

No, no;There be moe wasps that buzz about his noseWill make this sting the sooner. Cardinal CampeiusIs stol'n away to Rome; hath ta'en no leave;Has left the cause o' the king unhandled; andIs posted, as the agent of our cardinal,To second all his plot. I do assure youThe 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; whichHave satisfied the king for his divorce,Together with all famous collegesAlmost in Christendom: shortly, I believe,His second marriage shall be publish'd, andHer coronation. Katharine no moreShall be call'd queen, but princess dowagerAnd widow to Prince Arthur.

NORFOLK

This same Cranmer'sA worthy fellow, and hath ta'en much painIn the king's business.

SUFFOLK

He has; and we shall see himFor 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

PresentlyHe did unseal them: and the first he view'd,He did it with a serious mind; a heedWas in his countenance. You he badeAttend him here this morning.

CARDINAL WOLSEY

Is he readyTo come abroad?

CROMWELL

I think, by this he is.

CARDINAL WOLSEY

Leave me awhile.

CARDINAL WOLSEY

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 wishTo hear from Rome. The Marchioness of Pembroke!

NORFOLK

He's discontented.

SUFFOLK

May be, he hears the kingDoes 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 virtuousAnd well deserving? yet I know her forA spleeny Lutheran; and not wholesome toOur cause, that she should lie i' the bosom ofOur hard-ruled king. Again, there is sprung upAn heretic, an arch one, Cranmer; oneHath 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!

SUFFOLK

The king, the king!

KING HENRY VIII

What piles of wealth hath he accumulatedTo his own portion! and what expense by the hourSeems 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 haveStood here observing him: some strange commotionIs in his brain: he bites his lip, and starts;Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground,Then lays his finger on his temple, straightSprings out into fast gait; then stops again,Strikes his breast hard, and anon he castsHis eye against the moon: in most strange posturesWe have seen him set himself.

KING HENRY VIII

It may well be;There is a mutiny in's mind. This morningPapers of state he sent me to peruse,As I required: and wot you what I foundThere,--on my conscience, put unwittingly?Forsooth, an inventory, thus importing;The several parcels of his plate, his treasure,Rich stuffs, and ornaments of household; whichI find at such proud rate, that it out-speaksPossession 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 thinkHis contemplation were above the earth,And fix'd on spiritual object, he should stillDwell in his musings: but I am afraidHis thinkings are below the moon, not worthHis serious considering.

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 inventoryOf your best graces in your mind; the whichYou were now running o'er: you have scarce timeTo steal from spiritual leisure a brief spanTo keep your earthly audit: sure, in thatI deem you an ill husband, and am gladTo have you therein my companion.

CARDINAL WOLSEY

Sir,For holy offices I have a time; a timeTo think upon the part of business whichI bear i' the state; and nature does requireHer times of preservation, which perforceI, 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 wellWith 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 crownHis word upon you. Since I had my office,I have kept you next my heart; have not aloneEmploy'd you where high profits might come home,But pared my present havings, to bestowMy 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 couldMy studied purposes requite; which wentBeyond all man's endeavours: my endeavoursHave ever come too short of my desires,Yet filed with my abilities: mine own endsHave been mine so that evermore they pointedTo the good of your most sacred person andThe profit of the state. For your great gracesHeap'd upon me, poor undeserver, ICan 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 isTherein illustrated: the honour of itDoes pay the act of it; as, i' the contrary,The foulness is the punishment. I presumeThat, as my hand has open'd bounty to you,My heart dropp'd love, my power rain'd honour, moreOn 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 moreTo me, your friend, than any.

CARDINAL WOLSEY

I do professThat for your highness' good I ever labour'dMore 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 didAbound, as thick as thought could make 'em, andAppear 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;

KING HENRY VIII

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

CARDINAL WOLSEY

What should this mean?What sudden anger's this? how have I reap'd it?He parted frowning from me, as if ruinLeap'd from his eyes: so looks the chafed lionUpon 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 accountOf all that world of wealth I have drawn togetherFor 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 devilMade me put this main secret in the packetI 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 knowA way, if it take right, in spite of fortuneWill bring me off again. What's this? 'To the Pope!'The letter, as I live, with all the businessI 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 fallLike a bright exhalation m the evening,And no man see me more.

NORFOLK

Hear the king's pleasure, cardinal: who commands youTo render up the great seal presentlyInto our hands; and to confine yourselfTo Asher House, my Lord of Winchester's,Till you hear further from his highness.

CARDINAL WOLSEY

Stay:Where's your commission, lords? words cannot carryAuthority 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 feelOf what coarse metal ye are moulded, envy:How eagerly ye follow my disgraces,As if it fed ye! and how sleek and wantonYe 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 betterHave burnt that tongue than said so.

SURREY

Thy ambition,Thou scarlet sin, robb'd this bewailing landOf 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 allThat 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 elseThis talking lord can lay upon my credit,I answer is most false. The duke by lawFound his deserts: how innocent I wasFrom any private malice in his end,His noble jury and foul cause can witness.If I loved many words, lord, I should tell youYou have as little honesty as honour,That in the way of loyalty and truthToward 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; thoushouldst feelMy 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.

CARDINAL WOLSEY

All goodnessIs poison to thy stomach.

SURREY

Yes, that goodnessOf gleaning all the land's wealth into one,Into your own hands, cardinal, by extortion;The goodness of your intercepted packetsYou 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 stateOf our despised nobility, our issues,Who, if he live, will scarce be gentlemen,Produce the grand sum of his sins, the articlesCollected from his life. I'll startle youWorse than the scaring bell, when the brown wenchLay 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 fairerAnd spotless shall mine innocence arise,When the king knows my truth.

SURREY

This cannot save you:I thank my memory, I yet rememberSome 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 powerYou maim'd the jurisdiction of all bishops.

NORFOLK

Then, that in all you writ to Rome, or elseTo foreign princes, 'Ego et Rex meus'Was still inscribed; in which you brought the kingTo be your servant.

SUFFOLK

Then that, without the knowledgeEither of king or council, when you wentAmbassador to the emperor, you made boldTo carry into Flanders the great seal.

SURREY

Item, you sent a large commissionTo 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 causedYour 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 waysYou have for dignities; to the mere undoingOf 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 himSo 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 beOut of the king's protection. This is my charge.

NORFOLK

And so we'll leave you to your meditationsHow to live better. For your stubborn answerAbout 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.

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 forthThe 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 surelyHis 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 prideAt length broke under me and now has left me,Weary and old with service, to the mercyOf 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 wretchedIs 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.

CARDINAL WOLSEY

Why, how now, Cromwell!

CROMWELL

I have no power to speak, sir.

CARDINAL WOLSEY

What, amazedAt my misfortunes? can thy spirit wonderA great man should decline? Nay, an you weep,I am fall'n indeed.

CROMWELL

How does your grace?

CARDINAL WOLSEY

Why, well;Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell.I know myself now; and I feel within meA 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, takenA load would sink a navy, too much honour:O, 'tis a burthen, Cromwell, 'tis a burthenToo 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 farThan my weak-hearted enemies dare offer.What news abroad?

CROMWELL

The heaviest and the worstIs your displeasure with the king.

CARDINAL WOLSEY

God bless him!

CROMWELL

The next is, that Sir Thomas More is chosenLord chancellor in your place.

CARDINAL WOLSEY

That's somewhat sudden:But he's a learned man. May he continueLong in his highness' favour, and do justiceFor 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 nowOnly about her coronation.

CARDINAL WOLSEY

There was the weight that pull'd me down. O Cromwell,The king has gone beyond me: all my gloriesIn that one woman I have lost for ever:No sun shall ever usher forth mine honours,Or gild again the noble troops that waitedUpon my smiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell;I am a poor fall'n man, unworthy nowTo be thy lord and master: seek the king;That sun, I pray, may never set! I have told himWhat and how true thou art: he will advance thee;Some little memory of me will stir him--I know his noble nature--not to letThy hopeful service perish too: good Cromwell,Neglect him not; make use now, and provideFor thine own future safety.

CROMWELL

O my lord,Must I, then, leave you? must I needs foregoSo 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 prayersFor ever and for ever shall be yours.

CARDINAL WOLSEY

Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tearIn 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 mentionOf 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 allI dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell!Had I but served my God with half the zealI served my king, he would not in mine ageHave left me naked to mine enemies.

CROMWELL

Good sir, have patience.

CARDINAL WOLSEY

So I have. FarewellThe hopes of court! my hopes in heaven do dwell.