And gave your luxuries the name of virtues.
The civilisers! the disturbers say ;

The robbers, the corrupters of mankind,

Proud vagabonds! - who make the world your home, And lord it where you have no right.

What virtue have you taught?

Val. Humanity.

Van. Oh patience!

Val. Can you disown a truth confessed by all?
A praise, a glory known in barbarous climes ?
For as our legions march they carry knowledge,
The arts, the laws, the discipline of life.

Our conquests are indulgences, and we
Not masters, but protectors of mankind.

Van. Prevaricating, false- - most courteous tyrants; Romans! Rare patterns of humanity!

Came you then here, thus far through waves to conquer, To waste, to plunder out of mere compassion?

Is it humanity that prompts you on

To ravage the whole earth, to burn, destroy?
To raise the cry of widows and of orphans ?
To lead in bonds the generous free-born princes,
Who spurn, who fight against your tyranny?
Happy for us, and happy for you spoilers,
Had your humanity ne'er reach'd our world
It is a virtue (so it seems you call it)
A Roman virtue that has cost you dear:
And dearer shall it cost if Vanoc lives.-
Or if we die we shall leave those behind us
Who know the worth of British liberty.

Val. I mean not to reproach your ancestors.
Untaught, uncultivated as they were,
Inhospitable, fiery and ferocious;

Lions in spirit, cruel beyond men ;

Your altars reeking oft with human blood:

Nor will I urge you further on your merits.

I come instructed, Sir, to offer peace,

The peace that Didius offers, Valens sues for;
Propose your terms, and you will find me forward
To win the Roman general to compliance,

And to deserve once more the name of friend.

Van. Deliver up the queen, send back my daughter: This done, we may be brought to treat of peace. Val. Therein the dignity, the faith of Claudius, Would highly suffer.

Van. Is then the dignity,

The faith of Claudius, founded on injustice?
Is it his glory to protect a traitress,
A base, a profligate, adulterous woman?

Fit emperor indeed to govern Romans !

Val. Yet after this you married Cartismand!

Van. I was ambitious, — that I learn'd from you. That I did wed with treachery, and was a friend To Romans, is the whole reproach of Vanoc, But they and she combined have clear'd my honor, And when I stain it by forgiving either,

Let my own subjects brand me for a coward.

Val. Talk not of honor, prince, an empty sound,
The vaunting of a Briton in his choler!

To me at least you should have spared the boast :
You can renounce your word, we know, at pleasure,
Forget past services, worn marks of kindness;
Then quarrel with your friends to free the debt,
And sacrifice all faith to your resentments.
Van. This accusation I can hear unmoved,
It sullies not my soul, nor taints my fame.
It is a slander - — I expect no better.

Val. Do I calumniate? Ungrateful Vanoc,
Perfidious prince! Is it a calumny

To
say that Gwendolen, betrothed to Yvor,
Was by her father first assured to Valens?
By solemn promises you made her mine,

And I, by faithful services, deserved her.
What have I done to merit this injustice?

Van. My daughter! — No! —

Were it to save her life, she should not wed
A Roman.

Val. Then hear me, proud Cornavian ! -
Unthinking prince, I take you at your word;
Nor shall you forfeit it a second time.

She shall not wed, she shall not be a wife,
But she shall be a slave :—and to a Roman !
The wretched mother shall she be of slaves,
And live to curse her offspring and her father!
I will not ask your leave to use my captive

As I please :- - she is my right; my property.

We thank you that there needs no further courtship.

I can command her, and she must comply.

This roof protects thy rashness; but begone.
I cannot answer for my indignation.

If thou should'st dare to violate my child,
Or but pollute her cheek with one rude kiss
What heavy vengeance shall I not require!
Nor man nor woman, nor the new-born infant,
Nor anything that's Roman, will I spare ;
But in the bitterness of wrath destroy.
And for thy lewd ill-manner'd threats, remember,
That I henceforward do abjure all peace :

Nor shall you buy my friendship with your empire.
Away! Alan, conduct the tribune forth :

And let him pass unquestion'd. (Exit.)

Val. The king is much incensed-alas! he knows not

How far a lover's tongue belies his heart!

Mine are fond menaces; the throes of love.

T

CARDINAL WOLSEY AND CROMWELL.

Wolsey. Farewell, a long farewell to all my greatness!
This is the state of man;-to-day he puts forth
The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms,
And bears his blushing honors thick upon him;
The third day comes a frost, a killing frost,
And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely,
His greatness is a ripening, nips his shoot,
And then he falls as I do. I have ventured
Like little wanton boys, that swim on bladders,
These many summers in a sea of glory,
But far beyond my depth; my high-blown pride,
At length broke under me, and now has left me,
Weary and old with service, to the mercy
Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
Vain pomp and glory of the world, I hate ye;
I feel my heart new opened. Oh, how wretched
Is that poor man who hangs on princes' favors!
There is betwixt that smile he would aspire to,
That sweet aspect of princes, and his ruin,
and fears than war or women have;
And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,
Never to hope again.

More pangs

[Enter Cromwell.]

Why, how now, Cromwell?

Cromwell. I have no power to speak, sir.

Wol. What! amazed at my misfortunes? Can thy spirit wonder A great man should decline? Nay, if you weep,

I'm fallen 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 cured me,
I humbly thank his grace; and, from these shoulders,
These ruined pillars, out of pity taken

A load would sink a navy, too much honor.
O, 'tis a burden, Cromwell, 'tis a burden,
Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven!

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,

To endure more miseries, and greater far,

Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer.

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
Long in his Highness' favor, 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 him!
What more?

Crom. That Cranmer is returned with welcome;
Installed 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 viewed in open as his queen,

Going to chapel; and the voice is now

Only about her coronation.

Wol. There was the weight that pulled me down, O Cromwell! The king has gone beyond me: all my glories