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_Wol._ What! amaz'd At my misfortunes? can thy spirit wonder A great man should decline? Nay, an you weep, 25 I am fall'n 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 cur'd me, 30 I humbly thank his grace; and from these shoulders, These ruin'd pillars, out of pity, taken A load would sink a navy,--too much honour: O, 't is a burden, Cromwell, 't is a burden, Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven! 35 _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. 40 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 learned man. May he continue 45 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 'em!-- What more? 50 _Crom._ That Cranmer is return'd with welcome, Install'd Lord Archbishop of Canterbury. _Wol._ That's news indeed. _Crom._ Last, that the Lady Anne, Whom the king hath in secrecy long married, This day was view'd in open, as his queen, 55 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. 60 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; I am a poor fall'n man, unworthy now To be thy lord and master. Seek the king; 65 That sun, I pray, may never set! I have told him What and how true thou art: he will
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