Shakespeare's First Folio - BestLightNovel.com
You’re reading novel Shakespeare's First Folio Part 448 online at BestLightNovel.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit BestLightNovel.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
Card. Why well: Neuer so truly happy, my good Cromwell, I know my selfe now, and I feele within me, A peace aboue all earthly Dignities, A still, and quiet Conscience. The King ha's cur'd me, I humbly thanke his Grace: and from these shoulders These ruin'd Pillers, out of pitty, taken A loade, would sinke a Nauy, (too much Honor.) O 'tis a burden Cromwel, 'tis a burden Too heauy for a man, that hopes for Heauen
Crom. I am glad your Grace, Ha's made that right vse of it
Card. I hope I haue: I am able now (me thinkes) (Out of a Fort.i.tude of Soule, I feele) To endure more Miseries, and greater farre Then my Weake-hearted Enemies, dare offer.
What Newes abroad?
Crom. The heauiest, and the worst, Is your displeasure with the King
Card. G.o.d blesse him
Crom. The next is, that Sir Thomas Moore is chosen Lord Chancellor, in your place
Card. That's somewhat sodain.
But he's a Learned man. May he continue Long in his Highnesse fauour, and do Iustice For Truths-sake, and his Conscience; that his bones, When he ha's run his course, and sleepes in Blessings, May haue a Tombe of Orphants teares wept on him.
What more?
Crom. That Cranmer is return'd with welcome; Install'd Lord Arch-byshop of Canterbury
Card. That's Newes indeed
Crom. Last, that the Lady Anne, Whom the King hath in secrecie long married, This day was view'd in open, as his Queene, Going to Chappell: and the voyce is now Onely about her Corronation
Card. There was the waight that pull'd me downe.
O Cromwell, The King ha's gone beyond me: All my Glories In that one woman, I haue lost for euer.
No Sun, shall euer vsher forth mine Honors, Or gilde againe the n.o.ble Troopes that waighted Vpon my smiles. Go get thee from me Cromwel, I am a poore falne man, vnworthy now To be thy Lord, and Master. Seeke the King (That Sun, I pray may neuer set) I haue told him, What, and how true thou art; he will aduance thee: Some little memory of me, will stirre him (I know his n.o.ble Nature) not to let Thy hopefull seruice perish too. Good Cromwell Neglect him not; make vse now, and prouide For thine owne future safety
Crom. O my Lord, Must I then leaue you? Must I needes forgo So good, so n.o.ble, and so true a Master?
Beare witnesse, all that haue not hearts of Iron, With what a sorrow Cromwel leaues his Lord.
The King shall haue my seruice; but my prayres For euer, and for euer shall be yours
Card. Cromwel, I did not thinke to shed a teare In all my Miseries: But thou hast forc'd me (Out of thy honest truth) to play the Woman.
Let's dry our eyes: And thus farre heare me Cromwel, And when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And sleepe in dull cold Marble, where no mention Of me, more must be heard of: Say I taught thee; Say Wolsey, that once trod the wayes of Glory, And sounded all the Depths, and Shoales of Honor, Found thee a way (out of his wracke) to rise in: A sure, and safe one, though thy Master mist it.
Marke but my Fall, and that that Ruin'd me: Cromwel, I charge thee, fling away Ambition, By that sinne fell the Angels: how can man then (The Image of his Maker) hope to win by it?
Loue thy selfe last, cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more then Honesty.
Still in thy right hand, carry gentle Peace To silence enuious Tongues. Be iust, and feare not; Let all the ends thou aym'st at, be thy Countries, Thy G.o.ds, and Truths. Then if thou fall'st (O Cromwell) Thou fall'st a blessed Martyr.
Serue the King: And prythee leade me in: There take an Inuentory of all I haue, To the last peny, 'tis the Kings. My Robe, And my Integrity to Heauen, is all, I dare now call mine owne. O Cromwel, Cromwel, Had I but seru'd my G.o.d, with halfe the Zeale I seru'd my King: he would not in mine Age Haue left me naked to mine Enemies
Crom. Good Sir, haue patience
Card. So I haue. Farewell The Hopes of Court, my Hopes in Heauen do dwell.
Exeunt.
Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.
Enter two Gentlemen, meeting one another.
1 Y'are well met once againe
2 So are you
1 You come to take your stand heere, and behold The Lady Anne, pa.s.se from her Corronation
2 'Tis all my businesse. At our last encounter, The Duke of Buckingham came from his Triall
1 'Tis very true. But that time offer'd sorrow, This generall ioy
2 'Tis well: The Citizens I am sure haue shewne at full their Royall minds, As let 'em haue their rights, they are euer forward In Celebration of this day with Shewes, Pageants, and Sights of Honor
1 Neuer greater, Nor Ile a.s.sure you better taken Sir
2 May I be bold to aske what that containes, That Paper in your hand
1 Yes, 'tis the List Of those that claime their Offices this day, By custome of the Coronation.
The Duke of Suffolke is the first, and claimes To be high Steward; Next the Duke of Norfolke, He to be Earle Marshall: you may reade the rest
1 I thanke you Sir: Had I not known those customs, I should haue beene beholding to your Paper: But I beseech you, what's become of Katherine The Princesse Dowager? How goes her businesse?
1 That I can tell you too. The Archbishop Of Canterbury, accompanied with other Learned, and Reuerend Fathers of his Order, Held a late Court at Dunstable; sixe miles off From Ampthill, where the Princesse lay, to which She was often cyted by them, but appear'd not: And to be short, for not Appearance, and The Kings late Scruple, by the maine a.s.sent Of all these Learned men, she was diuorc'd, And the late Marriage made of none effect: Since which, she was remou'd to Kymmalton, Where she remaines now sicke
2 Alas good Lady.
The Trumpets sound: Stand close, The Queene is comming.
Ho-boyes. The Order of the Coronation. 1 A liuely Flourish of Trumpets. 2 Then, two Iudges. 3 Lord Chancellor, with Purse and Mace before him. 4 Quirristers singing. Musicke. 5 Maior of London, bearing the Mace. Then Garter, in his Coate of Armes, and on his head he wore a Gilt Copper Crowne. 6 Marquesse Dorset, bearing a Scepter of Gold, on his head, a Demy Coronall of Gold. With him, the Earle of Surrey, bearing the Rod of Siluer with the Doue, Crowned with an Earles Coronet. Collars of Esses. 7 Duke of Suffolke, in his Robe of Estate, his Coronet on his head, bearing a long white Wand, as High Steward. With him, the Duke of Norfolke, with the Rod of Marshals.h.i.+p, a Coronet on his head. Collars of Esses. 8 A Canopy, borne by foure of the Cinque-Ports, vnder it the Queene in her Robe, in her haire, richly adorned with Pearle, Crowned. On each side her, the Bishops of London, and Winchester. 9 The Olde Dutchesse of Norfolke, in a Coronall of Gold, wrought with Flowers bearing the Queenes Traine. 10 Certaine Ladies or Countesses, with plaine Circlets of Gold, without Flowers. Exeunt, first pa.s.sing ouer the Stage in Order and State, and then, A great Flourish of Trumpets.
2 A Royall Traine beleeue me: These I know: Who's that that beares the Scepter?
1 Marquesse Dorset, And that the Earle of Surrey, with the Rod
2 A bold braue Gentleman. That should bee The Duke of Suffolke
1 'Tis the same: high Steward
2 And that my Lord of Norfolke?
1 Yes
2 Heauen blesse thee, Thou hast the sweetest face I euer look'd on.
Sir, as I haue a Soule, she is an Angell; Our King ha's all the Indies in his Armes, And more, and richer, when he straines that Lady, I cannot blame his Conscience
1 They that beare The Cloath of Honour ouer her, are foure Barons Of the Cinque-Ports
2 Those men are happy, And so are all, are neere her.
I take it, she that carries vp the Traine, Is that old n.o.ble Lady, Dutchesse of Norfolke
1 It is, and all the rest are Countesses
2 Their Coronets say so. These are Starres indeed, And sometimes falling ones
2 No more of that.
Enter a third Gentleman.
1 G.o.d saue you Sir. Where haue you bin broiling?