Enter CROMWELL, standing amazed.

Why how now, Cromwell?

Crom. I have no power to speak, sir.

Wol. What! amazed

At my misfortunes? Can thy spirit wonder
A great man should decline? Nay, if you weep,
I'm fallen indeed.

Crom. How does your Grace?

Wol. 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 cured me,
I humbly thank his Grace: and from these shoulders,
These ruined pillars, out of pity taken

A load would sink a navy-too much honour.

Oh, 'tis a burden, Cromwell, 'tis a burden

Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven.

Crom. I'm glad your Grace has made that right use of it. Wol. I hope I have. I'm able now, methinks,

Out of a fortitude of soul I feel,

T'endure more miseries, and greater far,
Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer.
What news abroad?

Crom. The heaviest and the worst

Is your displeasure with the King.

Wol. God bless him!

Crom. The next is, that Sir Thomas More is chosen Lord Chancellor in your place.

Wol. That's somewhat sudden—

But he's a learnèd 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 him.
What more?

Crom. That Cranmer is returned with welcome;
Installed Lord Archbishop of Canterbury.

Wol. That's news, indeed!

Crom. Last, that the Lady Ann,

Whom the King hath in secrecy long married,

This day was viewed 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 my 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've 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 forced me,
Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman.
Let's dry our tears, 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 must more be heard, say then 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 missed it.
Mark but my fall, and that which ruined 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,

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 heav'n, is all

I dare now call my own. O Cromwell, Cromwell!
Had I but served my God with half the zeal
I served 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 heav'n do dwell.

321

3.-PRINCE HENRY AND SIR JOHN FALSTAFF.

SHAKSPEARE.

[See page 314.]

Prince H. Welcome, Jack: where hast thou been?

Falstaff. A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance too! Marry, and amen! Give me a cup of sack, boy. Ere I lead this life long, I'll sew nether stocks, and mend them, and foot them too. A plague of all cowards! Give me a cup of sack, rogue. Is there no

virtue extant ?

Prince H. Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of butter? pitifulhearted Titan, that melted at the sweet tale of the sun! If thou didst, then behold that compound.

Falstaff. You rogue, here's lime in this sack, too!-there is nothing but roguery to be found in villainous man; yet a coward is worse than a cup of sack with lime in it: a villainous coward! Go thy ways, old Jack; die when thou wilt, if manhood, good manhood, be not forgot upon the face of the earth, then am I a shotten herring. There live not three good men unhanged in England, and one of them is fat and grows old. A bad world, I say!-I would I were a weaver; I could sing psalms or any thing. A plague of all cowards, I say still!

Prince H. How now, woolsack! what mutter you ?

Falstaff. A king's son! If I do not beat thee out of thy kingdom, with a dagger of lath, and drive all thy subjects before me like a flock of wild geese, I'll never wear hair on my face more. Prince of Wales!

Prince H. Why, what's the matter?

Falstaff. Are you not a coward? Answer me to that.

You

Prince H. Why, ye fat paunch, an' ye call me coward, I'll stab thee.

Falstaff. I call thee coward! I'll see thee hanged ere I call thee coward; but I would give a thousand pounds I could run as fast as thou canst. You are straight enough in the shoulders; you care not who sees your back. Call you that backing of your friends? A plague upon such backing! Give me them that will face me. Give me a cup of sack; I'm a rogue if I have drunk to-day.

Prince H. O villain! thy lips are scarce wiped since thou drank'st last.

Falstaff. All's one for that. A plague of all cowards, still say I. Prince H. What's the matter! Falstaff. What's the matter! thousand pounds this morning. Prince H. Where is it, Jack?

There be four of us have ta'en a

Where is it?

Falstaff. Where is it! Taken from us it is: a hundred upon four of us.

Prince H. What! a hundred, man ?

Falstaff. I am a rogue if I were not at half-sword with a dozen

Y

of them, two hours together. I have escaped by miracle. I am eight times thrust through the doublet, four through the hose; my buckler cut through and through; my sword hacked like a handsaw, ecce signum. I never dealt better since I was a man! All would not do. A plague of all cowards!

Prince H. Speak, Jack, how was it?

Falstaff. Four of us set upon some dozen, and bound themevery man of them; and as we were sharing, some six or seven fresh men set upon us, and unbound the rest; and then came in the others.

Prince H. What! fought ye with them all?

Falstaff. All! I know not what you call all; but if I fought not with fifty of them, I am a bunch of radish; if there were not two or three-and-fifty upon poor old Jack, then am I no two-legged

creature.

Prince H. I pray you have not murdered some of them!

Falstaff. Nay; that's past praying for! I have peppered two of them-two, I am sure I have paid-two rogues in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Hal, if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face-call me horse. Thou knowest my old ward: here I lay, and thus I bore my point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me—

Prince H. What! four? Thou saidst but two even now.

Falstaff. Four, Hal; I told thee, four. These four came all afront, and mainly thrust at me. I made no more ado, but took all their seven points in my target, thus.

Prince H. Seven? Why, there were but four even now.
Falstaff. In buckram?

Prince H. Ay, four in buckram suits.

Falstaff. Seven, by these hilts, or, I am a villain else. Dost thou hear me, Hal?

Prince H. Ay, and mark thee too.

Falstaff. Do so, for it is worth the listening to. These nine in buckram that I told thee of

Prince H. So, two more, already.

Falstaff. Their points being broken, they began to give me ground; but I followed them close, came in foot and hand, and, with a thought, seven of the eleven I paid.

Prince H. O monstrous! eleven buckram men grown out of two! Falstaff. But, as bad luck would have it, three misbegotten knaves, in Kendal green, came at my back, and let drive at me; for, it was so dark, Hal, that thou couldst not see thy hand.

Prince H. These lies are like the father that begets them-gross as a mountain, open,. palpable. Why, thou clay-brained and knottypated fool, thou obscene, greasy tallow-keech

Falstaff. What! art thou mad? art thou mad? Is not the truth the truth P

Prince H. Why, how couldst thou know these men in Kendal green, when "it was so dark, thou couldst not see thy hand?" Come, tell us your reason. What sayest thou to this? Come, your reason, Jack, your reason.

Falstaff What! upon compulsion! No! were I at the strappado, or all the racks in the world, I would not tell you upon compulsion. Give you a reason on compulsion! If reasons were as plenty as blackberries, I would give no man a reason on compulsion, I!

Prince H. I'll be no longer guilty of this sin. Thou sanguine coward, thou bed-presser, thou horse back-breaker, thou huge hill of flesh

Falstaff. Away! you starveling-you elf-skin-you dried neat's tongue-you stock-fish!-O, for breath to utter what is like thee!you tailor's yard-you sheath-you bow-case-you vile standing tuck

Prince H. Well, breathe awhile, and then to it again; and when thou hast tired thyself in base comparisons, hear me speak but this: -Poins and I saw you four set on four; you bound them, and were masters of their wealth. Mark, now, how plain a tale shall put you down. Then did we two set on you four, and, with a word, outfaced you from your prize, and have it, yea, and can show it you here in the house. And, Falstaff, you carried your mountain-sides away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and roared for mercy, and still ran and roared, as ever I heard bull-calf. What a slave art thou to hack thy sword as thou hast done, and then say it was in fight! What trick, what device, what starting-hole canst thou find out, to hide thee from this open and apparent shame?

Falstaff. Ha! ha! ha! I knew ye, as well as he that made you. Why, hear you, my master-was it for me to kill the heir-apparent ? Should I turn upon the true prince? Why, thou knowest, I am as valiant as Hercules, but, beware instinct! The lion will not touch the true prince. Instinct is a great matter! I was a coward -on instinct! I shall think the better of myself and thee during my life; myself for a valiant lion, and thee for a true prince. But I am glad you have the money. Clap to the doors; watch to-night, pray to-morrow. What, shall we be merry? Shall we have a play extempore ?

Prince H. Content; and the argument shall be, thy running away. Falstaff. Ah! no more of that, Hal, an' thou lovest me.

4.-BRUTUS AND CASSIUS.

SHAKSPEARE.

[See page 314.]

Cas. That you have wronged me doth appear in this-
You have condemned and noted Lucius Pella,

For taking bribes here of the Sardians;

Wherein my letters (praying on his side,
Because I knew the man) were slighted of.

Bru. You wronged yourself to write in such a case.