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THE PHILOSOPHY

OF

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

A GREAT SOUL CANNOT SUFFER

LONG.

CROMWELL. How does your grace?

WOLSEY.

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,

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, 'tis a burden, Cromwell, 'tis a burden,
Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven.
CROM. I am glad your grace has made that
right use of it.

B

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