Make them not rich; let them be poor and honest. Duke. I will, I will. Bianca. Why then 'tis time, 'tis time. And thou believest he is no murderer? [DUKE bows assent. Thou 'lt lay me near him, and keep her away from us. It breaks, it breaks, it breaks-it is not iron. [Dies. REV. HENRY HART MILMAN. FROM "HENRY EIGHTH." ; Wolsey. FAREWELL, a long farewell to all my greatness! But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride Never to hope again. Why, how now, Cromwell? Cromwell. I have no power to speak, Sir. At my misfortunes? Can thy spirit wonder Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell. I know myself now, and I feel within me, A still and quiet conscience. The king has cured me, A load would sink a navy, too much honour. Crom. I'm glad your Grace has made that right use of it. Wol. I hope I have: I'm able now, methinks, Out of a fortitude of soul I feel, T'endure more miseries, and greater far, Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer. 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 Long in his Highness' favour, and do justice For truth's sake and his conscience; that his bones 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, Wol. There was the weight that pull'd me down: 0 The king has gone beyond me: all my glories In that one woman I have lost for ever. No sun shall ever usher forth my 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'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, Crom. The king shall have my service; but my prayers Wol. I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries, but thou hast forced me, And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Still in thy right hand carry gentle Peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not. Thy God's, and Truth's; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell Thou fall'st a blessed martyr. Serve the King And pr'ythee lead me in There take an inventory of all I have, To the last penny 'tis the King's. My robe, I dare now call my own. O Cromwell, Cromwell, Enter ADAM, EVE, ADAH, and ZILLAH. Adam. A voice of woe from Zillah brings me here.What do I see?-'Tis true !-My son !-my son ! Woman, behold the serpent's work, and thine! [To EVE. Eve. Oh! speak not of it now! the serpent's fangs Are in my heart. My best beloved, Abel! Jehovah this is punishment beyond A mother's sin to take him from me! Adam. Who, Or what hath done this deed ?—Cain, since thou Eve. Ah! a vivid light Breaks through, as from a thunder-cloud! yon brand, And black with smoke, and red with- Speak, my son! Speak, and assure us, wretched as we are, Adah. Speak, Cain! and say it was not thou! I see it now—he hangs his guilty head, It was. |