Upon my smiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell! I'm 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.

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 forc'd 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 mention
Of me must more be heard, say that I taught thee—
Say, Wolsey, that once trod the way 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 which ruin'd me,

Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition:
By that sin fell the angels. How can man
(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 those 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, pry'thee, 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 mine own. O Cromwell! Cromwell!
Had I but serv'd my God with half the zeal

I serv'd my king, he would not in mine age
Have left me naked to mine enemies!"

This last expression is thus reported by Cavendish, as addressed to Mr. Kingston, the captain of the guard, who attended upon him after his arrest:

"If I had served God as diligently as I have done the king, he would not have given me over in my gray hairs."*

* P. 542; Hol., 755.

It is difficult to account for this arrest on a charge of high treason, precisely at this time. *

In the fourth act, we have the coronation of the queen, which is placed, as in Holinshed, immediately after the mention of the court, held by Cranmer, at Dunstable, where the divorce between Henry and Catherine was pronounced.t It has been conjectured that the description of this and the other ceremonies in the play, were drawn up by another hand. The present, certainly, is not taken from Holinshed.‡

The close of Queen Catherine's life is represented in a scene,§ describing also that of Wolsey's, of which Johnson says,

"This scene is above any part of Shakspeare's tragedies, and perhaps above any other scene of any other poet, tender and pathetic; without gods or fairies, or persons, or precipices-without the help of romantic circumstances, without the improbable sallies of poetical lamentation, and without the throbs of tumultuous misery."||

* See Lingard, 163.

+ Hol., 778.

See Hol., 781, where Lord William Howard is said to have been present as Deputy Earl Marshal, and the Duke of Suffolk as Lord High Constable. In the play, we have no earl marshal, but Dorset as Chamberlain, and Surry bearing the rod of silver with the dove. The two accounts only agree as to Suffolk. || Bosw., 441.

§ Act v. Sc. 2.

If I find some fault with this highly-wrought passage, it is not for the praise which it bestows upon this particular scene, so much as for the blame which it unfairly insinuates against others. Neither here nor elsewhere does Shakspeare excite us to the pathetic, by the adventitious circumstances which Johnson deprecates. Beautiful as the whole scene is, I am compelled by my critical duty to observe, that though the death of Wolsey followed quickly upon his disgrace, the unfortunate Catherine lived until the year 1536, having been, in 1532, deprived of the title of queen. Griffith's description of Wolsey's end is admirable :

"At length with easy roads, he came to Leicester;
Lodg'd in the abbey, where the reverend abbot,
With all his convent, honourably received him ;
To whom he gave these words: 'O father abbot!
An old man broken with the storms of state,
Is come to lay his weary bones among ye:
Give him a little earth for charity !'

So went to bed, where eagerly his sickness
Pursued him still; and three nights after this,
About the hour of eight (which he himself
Foretold should be his last), full of repentance,
Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows,

*He died Nov. 29, 1530.

He gave his honours to the world again,

His blessed part to heav'n, and slept in peace."

Catherine's character of Wolsey, and the more candid and apologetical statement of her gentleman-usher, are taken from Holinshed:*

"Cath. So may he rest; his faults lie gently on him,

Yet thus far Griffith give me leave to speak him,
And yet with charity. He was a man,
Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking

Himself with princes; one, that by suggestion
Ty'd all the kingdom; simony was fair play,
His own opinion was his law: I' th'

presence
He would say untruths, and be ever double
Both in his words and meaning; he was never,
But where he meant to ruin, pitiful;

His promises were, as he then was, mighty;
But his performance, as he now is, nothing.

Of his own body he was ill, and gave

The clergy ill example.

Griffith. Noble madam,

Men's evils live in brass, their virtues

We write in water. May it please your highness,

To hear me speak his good now.

Cath. Yes, good Griffith,

I were malicious else.

* P. 756.