Upon my smiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell; I am a poor fall'n man, unworthy now

To be thy lord and master; seek the king;

That sun, I pray, may never set! I have 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,
Neglect him not; make use now, and provide
For thine own future safety.

Crom.
O my lord,
Must I, then, leave you? must I needs forego
So good, so noble, and so true a master?

Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron,
With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord.
The king shall have my service; but my prayers
For ever and for ever shall be yours.

Wol. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear
In all my miseries; but thou hast forc'd me,
Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman.

Let's dry our eyes; and thus far hear me, Cromwell;
And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be,
And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention
Of me more must be heard of, say, I taught thee,
Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory,
And sounded all the depths and shoals of honor,
Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in;
A sure and safe one, tho thy master miss'd it.
Mark but my fall, and that which ruin'd me.
Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition!
By that sin fell the angels; how can man, then,
The image of his Maker, hope to win by it?

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 fear 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 Cromwell,

Thou fall'st a blessed martyr! Serve the king;

And, prithee lead me in;

There take an inventory of all I have,

To the last penny; 'tis the king's; my robe,
And my integrity to Heaven, are 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!

Crom. Good sir, have patience.
Wol.

So I have.

Farewell

The hopes of court! my hopes in heaven do dwell.

[Exeunt.

KING JOHN

PARTS OF ACTS III AND IV

SCENE: Plain near Angiers. Elinor the Queen-mother, has taken Arthur aside to console him, and John

beckons to Hubert.

K. John. Come hither, Hubert. O my gentle Hubert, We owe thee much; within this wall of flesh There is a soul, counts thee her creditor, And with advantage means to pay thy love: Give me thy hand. I had a thing to say,— But I will fit it with some better time.

By Heaven, Hubert, I am almost ashamed

To say what good respect I have of thee.

Hub. I am much bounden to your majesty.

K. John. Good friend, thou hast no cause to say so yet: But thou shalt have; and creep time ne'er so slow,

Yet it shall come, for me to do thee good.

I had a thing to say,-But let it go:

The sun is in the heaven, and the proud day,
Attended with the pleasures of the world,
Is all too wanton, and too full of gawds,
To give me audience:-If the midnight bell
Did, with his iron tongue and brazen mouth,
Sound one unto the drowsy race of night;
If this same were a churchyard where we stand,
And thou possessed with a thousand wrongs;
Or if that surly spirit, melancholy,

Had baked thy blood, and made it heavy, thick,
(Which, else, runs tickling up and down the veins,
Making that idiot, laughter, keep men's eyes,
And strain their cheeks to idle merriment,
A passion hateful to my purposes;)

Or if that thou couldst see me without eyes,
Hear me without thine ears, and make reply
Without a tongue, using conceit alone,
Without eyes, ears, and harmful sound of words;
Then, in despite of brooded watchful day,
I would into thy bosom pour my thoughts:
But ah, I will not:-Yet I love thee well;
And, by my troth, I think, thou lovest me well.

Hub. So well, that what you bid me undertake,

Tho that my death were adjunct to my act,
By Heaven, I'd do't.

K. John. Do not I know thou wouldst?
Good Hubert, Hubert, Hubert, throw thine eye
On yon young boy: I'll tell thee what, my friend,
He is a very serpent in my way;

And, wheresoe'er this foot of mine doth tread,
He lies before me: Dost thou understand me?
Thou art his keeper.

Hub. And I will keep him so
That he shall not offend your majesty.

I could be merry now: Hubert, I love thee;
Well, I'll not say what I intend for thee:

Remember.

SCENE: In a castle, Northampton; Hubert comes in with two attendants.

Hub. Heat me these irons hot; and, look thou stand

Within the arras: when I strike my foot

Upon the bosom of the ground, rush forth;

And bind the boy, which you shall find with me,

Fast to the chair: be heedful: hence, and watch.

1 Attend. I hope your warrant will bear out the deed. Hub. Uncleanly scruples! Fear not you: look to't. [Exeunt ATTENDANTS.

HUBERT unlocks the door of a cell.

Young lad, come forth; I have to say with you.

Enter ARTHUR.

Arth. Good morrow, Hubert.

Hub. Good morrow, little prince.

Arth. As little prince (having so great a title To be more prince) as may be. You are sad. Hub. Indeed, I have been merrier.

Arth. Mercy on me!

Methinks, nobody should be sad but I;
Yet, I remember, when I was in France,
Young gentlemen would be as sad as night,
Only for wantonness. By my Christendom,
So I were out of prison, and kept sheep,
I should be as merry as the day is long:
And so I would be here, but that I doubt
My uncle practises more harm to me;
He is afraid of me, and I of him:

Is it my fault, that I was Geoffrey's son?
No, indeed, it's not; and I would to Heaven,

I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert.

Hub. If I talk to him, with his innocent prate

He will awake my mercy, which lies dead:
Therefore I will be sudden, and despatch.

[Aside.

Arth. Are you sick, Hubert? you look pale to-day: In sooth, I would you were a little sick;

That I might sit all night, and watch with you:

I warrant, I love you more than you do me.

[Aside.

Hub. His words do take possession of my bosom.—

Read here, young Arthur. [Showing a paper.] How now,

foolish rheum!

Turning dispiteous torture out of door!

I must be brief, lest resolution drop