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Anne bear better bless Buck Buckingham cardinal cause Cham Collier comes conscience court Cran Cranmer Crom Cromwell dare Duke England Enter Exeunt Exit fair fall father fear further gave Gent give grace hand hath head hear heart heaven highness Holinshed holy honour hope hour Kath Katharine keep King king's lady late learned leave live look lord Lord Chamberlain Lovell madam master mean mind never noble Norfolk once opinion peace person pity play pleasure poor pray present princes queen royal Sands Scene sent Shakespeare Sir Thomas soul speak stand sure tell thank thee There's thing thou tongue true truth virtue wish witness Wolsey woman
Pagina 97 - Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This 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 this world, I hate ye ; I feel my heart new opened : O, how wretched Is that poor man, that hangs on princes...
Pagina 101 - 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...
Pagina 101 - 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 '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 fear not.
Pagina 97 - 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 honours 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 root, And then he falls, as I do.
Pagina 97 - O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours ! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have ; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again.
Pagina 100 - 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.
Pagina 147 - Who from the sacred ashes of her honour Shall star-like rise, as great in fame 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 : Wherever the bright sun of heaven shall shine, His honour and the greatness of his name Shall be, and make new nations...
Pagina 98 - I am fall'n 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.
Pagina 91 - Nay then, farewell! I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness; And from that full meridian of my glory, I haste now to my setting: I shall fall Like a bright exhalation in the evening, And no man see me more.
Pagina 100 - I am a poor fallen 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...