_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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