Changes the mode; for what in me was purchas'd, Falls upon thee in a much fairer sort; For thou the garland wear'st successively. Yet though thou stand'st more sure than I could do, Thou art not firm enough, since griefs are green; And all my friends, which thou must make thy friends 9 Have but their stings and teeth newly ta'en out; I cut them off, and had a purpose now Lest rest and lying still might make them look With foreign quarrels; that action hence borne out, May waste the memory of former days. You won it, wore it, kept it, gave it me; SHAKESPEARE. CHA P. XVIII. Henry V. to his Soldiers. WHAT'S he that wishes for more men from England? My cousin Westmoreland! No, my fair cousin, By Jove, I am not covetous of gold; No, 'faith, my lord, wish not a man from England: As one man more, host, : That he which hath no stomach to this fight, But they'll remember, with advantages, Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Glo'ster, We few, we happy few, we band of brothers! my This day shall gentle his condition: Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here; And hold their manhoods cheap, while any speaks, That fought with us upon St. Crispian's day. CHA P. XIX. SHAKESPEARE. Henry VI. Warwick, and Cardinal Beaufort. K. Henry. How fares my lord? Speak, Beau fort, to thy sovereign. Car. If thou be'st Death, I'll give thee England's treasure, Enough to purchase such another island, K. Henry. Ah, what a sign it is of evil life, thee. Car. Bring me unto my trial when you will: Dy'd he not in his bed? Where should he die? Can I make men live whether they will or no? Oh, torture me no more! I will confess Alive again? Then show me where he is: I'll give a thousand pound to look upon him— He hath no eyes, the dust hath blinded them : Comb down his hair : look! look! it stands upright, Like lime twigs set to catch my winged soul. Give me some drink; and bid the apothecary Bring the strong poison that I bought of him. K. Henry. O thou eternal Mover of the heav'ns, Look with a gentle eye upon this wretch! Oh, beat away the busy meddling fiend, That lays strong siege unto this wretch's soul, And from his bosom purge this black despair. -Peace to his soul, if God's good pleasure be! Lord Cardinal, if thou think'st on Heaven's bliss, Hold up thine hand, make signal of thy hope. He dies, and makes no sign! Ø God, forgive him, War. So bad a death argues a monstrous life. K. Henry. Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all. Close up his eyes, and draw the curtain close, Wol. F CHA P. X X. SHAKESPEARE. Wolsey and Cromwell. AREWEL, a long farewel to all my great ness! This is the state of man: To-day he puts forth Why, how now, Cromwell? Crom. I have no power to speak, Sir, At my misfortunes? Can thy spirit wonder A great man should decline? Nay, if you weep, I'm fall'n indeed. Crom. How does your grace? Wol. Wol. Why well; Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell. A still and quiet conscience. The king has cur'd me, 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. Wol. I hope I have: I'm able now, methinks, Out of a fortitude of soul I feel, T' indure more miseries, and greater far, 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 suddenBut 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, When he has run his course, and sleeps in blessings, May have a tomb of orphan's tears wept on him! What more? 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, Only about her coronation. Wol. There was the weight that pull'd me down: 0 Cromwell, P |