Графични страници
PDF файл

By that sin sell the angels, how can man then,
The image of his Maker hope to win by't?
Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee,
Corruption wins not more than honesty.
Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace,
To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fcar not:
Let all the ends thou aim'st at, be thy country's,
Thy God's and truth's; then if thou fall’st, O Crom-
Thou sall’st a blessed martyr. Serve the king; (well,
And,--Pr’ythee, lead me in:
There take an inventory of all I have,
To the last penny: 'tis the king's: my robe,
And niy integrity to heaven, is all
I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell,
Had I but serv'd my God with half the zeal
I serv'd my king, he would not in mine age
Have left me naked to mine enemies.


APPLAUSE. Such a noise arose As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest, As loud, and to as many tunes: hats, cloaks, (Doublets, I think,) flew up; and had their faces Been loose, this day they had been lost. Such joy I never saw before. Great-bellied women, That had not half a week to go, like rams In the old time of war, would shake the press, And make them reel before them. No man living Could say, This is my wife, there; all were woven So strangely in one piece.

CARDINAL WOLSEY'S DEATH. At last, with easy roads,* he came to Leicester, Lodgid in the abbey; where the reverend abbot, With all his convent, honourably receiv'd him; To whom he gare these words, - 0, father abbot, An old man, broken with the stornis of state, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye; Give him a little earth for charity!

By short stages.


So went to bed: where eagerly his sickness
Pursu'd him still; and, three nights after this,
About the hour of eight, (which he himself
Foretold, should be his last,) full of repentance,
Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows,
He gave his honours to the world again,
His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace.

So may he rest: his faults lay gently on him!
Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak him,
And yet with charity,—He was a man
Of an unbounded stomach,* ever ranking
Himself with princes; one, that by suggestion
Try'd all the kingdom: simony was fair play;
His own opinion was his law: I' the presencet
He would say untrnths; and be ever double,
Both in his words and meaning: He was never,
But where he meant to ruin, pitiful:
His promises were, as he then was, mighty;
But his performance, as he is now, nothing.
of his own body he was ill, and gave
The clergy ill example.

Noble madam, Men's eril manners live in brass; their virtues We write in water.

[ocr errors]

This cardinal, Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly Was fashion’d tot much honour. From his cradle, He was a scholar, and a ripe, and good one; Exceeding wise, fair spoken and persuading; Lofty, and sour,

to them that lov'd him not; But, to those men that sought him, sweet as summer, • And though he were unsatisfied in getting, (Which was a sin,) yet in bestowing, madam, He was most princely: Ever witness for him Those twins of learning, that he rais'd in you, Jpswich, and Oxforo]! oneş of which fell with him, Unwilling to outlive the good that did it;

* Price. + Of the king. Forined for. $ Ipswich.

The other, though unfinish'l, yet so famous,
So excellent in art, and still so rising,
That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.
His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him;
For then, and not till then, he selt himsell,
And found the blessedness of being little;
And, to add greater honours to his age
Than man could give him, he died, searing God.


Men, that make
Envy, and crooked malice, nourishment,
Darc bite the best.

Love, and meekness, loro,
Become a churchman, better than ambition;
Win straying souls with modesty again,
Cast none away.


'Tis a cruelty, To load a falling man.

ARCHBISHOP CRANMER'S PROPHECY. Let me speak, sir, For heaven now bids me; and the words I utter Let none think flattery, for they'll find them truth. This royal infant, (heaven still move about her!) Though in her cradle, yet now promises Upon this land a thousand thousand blessings, Which time shall bring to ripeness: She shall be (But few now living can behold that goodness,) À pattern to all princes living with her, And all that shall succeed: Sheba was never More ccvetous of wisdom, and fair virtue, Than this pure soul shall be: all princely graces, That mould up such a mighty piece as this is, With all the virtues that attend the good, Shall still be doubled on her: truth shall nurse her, Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her:

Good grows

She shall be lov'd, and fear'd; Her own shall bless

her: Her foes shake like a field or beaten corn, And hang their heads with sorrow:

with her: In her days, every man shall eat in safety Under his own vine, what he plants; and sing The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours: God shall be truly known; and those about her From her shall read the perfect ways of honour, And by those claim their greatness, not by blood. Nor shall this peace sleep with her: But as when The bird ol' wonder dies, the maiden phenix, H :r ashes new create another heir A great in admiration as herself; So shall she leave her blessedness to one, (When heaven shall call her from this cloud of dark.

ness) Who, from the sacred ashes of her honour, Shall star-like rise, as great in same as she was, And so stand fix'd: Peace, plenty, love, truth, terror, That were the servants to this chosen infant, Shall then be his, and like a vine grow to him; Whercver the bright sun of heaven shall shiné, His honour, and the greatness of his name Shall be, and make new nations: He shall flourish, And, like a mountain cedar, reach his branches To all the plains about him: Our childrea's

children Shall see this, and bless heaven.









LOVE THE NOBLENESS OF LIFE. LET Rome in Tiber melt! and the wide arch of the rang'd empire fall! Here is my space; Kingdoms are clay; our dungy earth alike Feeds beast as man: the nobleness of life, Is, to do thus; when such a mutual pair,

And such a twain can do't, in which, i bind,
On pain of punishment, the world to weet.*
We stand up peerless,
Why did he marry Fulvia, and not love her?

I'll seem the fool I am not; Antony
Will be himself.

But stirr'd by Cleopatra,
Now, for the love of Love, and her soft hours.

ANTONY'S VICES AND VIRTUES. I must not think, there are Evils enough to darken all his goodness His faults, in him, seem as the spots of heaven, More fiery by night's blackness; hereditary, Rather than purchas’d;t what he cannot change, Than what he chooses.

† Procured by his own fault.

. Know.

« ПредишнаНапред »