With Nature never do they wage A happy youth, and their old age But we are pressed by heavy laws ; We wear a face of joy, because If there be one who need bemoan His kindred laid in earth, The household hearts that were his own; It is the man of mirth. My days, my Friend, are almost gone, My life has been approved, And many love me; but, by none Am I enough beloved.' 'Now both himself and me he wrongs, The man who thus complains! I live and sing my idle songs And Matthew, for thy children dead I'll be a son to thee !' At this he grasped my hand, and said, 6 Alas! that cannot be.' We rose up from the fountain-side; Of the green sheep-track did we glide; And, ere we came to Leonard's rock, W. Wordsworth. Suf. CCLIII. KING HENRY VIII. ACT III. SCENE II.-Ante-chamber to the King's apartment. ORD cardinal, the king's further pleasure is, By your power legatine, within this kingdom, Out of the king's protection. This is my charge. The king shall know it, and, no doubt, shall thank you. Wol. So farewell to the little good you bear me. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye : Never to hope again. Enter CROMWELL, and stands amazed. Crom. I have no power to speak, sir. Wol. Why, how now, Cromwell! What, amazed At my misfortunes? can thy spirit wonder Crom. Wol. How does your grace? Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell. Why, well; A still and quiet conscience. The king has cured me, A load would sink a navy, too much honour: O, 'tis a burden, Cromwell, 'tis a burden Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven! Crom. I am glad your grace has made that right use of it. Wol. I hope I have: I am able now, methinks, Out of a fortitude of soul I feel, To endure more miseries and greater far Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer. Crom. The heaviest and the worst God bless him! Is your displeasure with the king. Wol. Crom. The next is, that Sir Thomas More is chosen Lord chancellor in your place. Wol. That's somewhat sudden : But he's a learned man. May he continue For truth's sake and his conscience; that his bones, Crom. That Cranmer is returned with welcome, Wol. That's news indeed. Last, that the Lady Anne, Whom the king hath in secrecy long married, Only about her coronation. Wol. There was the weight that pulled 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 mine honours, Or gild again the noble troops that waited Upon my smiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell; To be thy lord and master: seek the king; That sun, I pray, may never set! I have told him I know his noble nature not to let Thy hopeful service perish too; good Cromwell, Crom. O my lord, Must I, then, leave you? must I needs forego With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord. Wol. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear Let's dry our eyes and thus far hear me, Cromwell; And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; 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 all I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell! I served my king, he would not in mine age Crom. Good sir, have patience. 1 So I have. Farewell W. Shakespeare. The hopes of court! my hopes in heaven do dwell. |