Cho.
Now Cromwell's highest fortunes do begin.
Wolsey, that lov'd him as he did his life,
Committed all his treasure to his hands,
Wolsey is dead; and Gardiner, his man,
Is now created bishop of Winchester.
Pardon if we omit all Wolsey's life,

Because our play depends on Cromwell's death.
Now sit, and see his highest state of all,
His height of rising, and his sudden fall.
Pardon the errors are already past,
And live in hope the best doth come at last.
My hope upon your favour doth depend,
And looks to have your liking ere the end. [Exit. SCENE I. The same. A publick walk. Enter Gardiner bishop of Winchester, the dukes of Norfolk and of Suffolk, sir Thomas More, sir Christopher Hales, and Cromwell.

Nor.
Master Cromwell, since cardinal Wolsey's death,
His majesty is given to understand
There's certain bills and writings in your hand,
That much concern the state of England.
My lord of Winchester, is it not so?

Gar.
My lord of Norfolk, we two were whilom fellows:
And master Cromwell, though our master's love
Did bind us, while his love was to the king,
It is no boot now to deny those things,
Which may be prejudicial to the state:
And though that God hath rais'd my fortune higher
Than any way I look'd for, or deserv'd,
Yet may my life no longer with me dwell,
Than I prove true unto my sovereign!
What say you, master Cromwell? have you those
Writings, ay, or no?

Crom.
Here are the writings:
And on my knees I give them up unto
The worthy dukes of Suffolk, and of Norfolk.

He was my master, and each virtuous part
That liv'd in him, I tender'd with my heart;
But what his head complotted 'gainst the state,
My country's love commands me that to hate.
His sudden death I grieve for, not his fall^{3 note}

Suf.
Cromwell, the king shall hear of this thy duty;
Who, I assure myself, will well reward thee.
My lord, let's go unto his majesty,
And show those writings which he longs to see. [Exeunt Norfolk and Suffolk. Enter Bedford hastily.

Bed.
How now, who is this? Cromwell? By my soul,
Welcome to England: thou once didst save my life;
Didst not, Cromwell?

Crom.
If I did so, 'tis greater glory for me
That you remember it, than for myself
Vainly to report it.

Bed.
Well, Cromwell, now's the time,
I shall commend thee to my sovereign.
Cheer up thyself, for I will raise thy state;
A Russel yet was never found ingrate. [Exit.

Hales.
O how uncertain is the wheel of state* ^note!
Who lately greater than the cardinal,
For fear and love? and now who lower lies?
Gay honours are but Fortune's flatteries;

And whom this day pride and ambition swells,
To-morrow envy and ambition quells.

More.
Who sees the cob-web tangle the poor fly,
May boldly say, the wretch's death is nigh.

Gard.
I knew his state and proud ambition
Were too too violent to last o'er-long.

Hales.
Who soars too near the sun with golden wings,
Melts them; to ruin his own fortune brings. Enter the duke of Suffolk.

Suf.
Cromwell, kneel down. In king Henry's name arise
Sir Thomas Cromwell; thus begins thy fame. Enter the duke of Norfolk.

Nor.
Cromwell, the gracious majesty of England,
For the good liking he conceives of thee,
Makes thee the master of the jewel-house,
Chief secretary to himself, and withal
Creates thee one of his highness' privy-council. Enter the earl of Bedford.

Bed.
Where is sir Thomas Cromwell? is he knighted?

Suf.
He is, my lord.

Bed.
Then, to add honour to
His name, the king creates him the lord keeper
Of his privy seal^{4 note}

, and master of the rolls,

Which you, sir Christopher, do now enjoy^{5 note}:
The king determines higher place for you.

Crom.
My lords,
These honours are too high for my desert.

More.
O content thee, man; who would not choose it?
Yet thou art wise in seeming to refuse it.

Gard.
Here's honours, titles and promotions:
I fear this climbing will have sudden fall.

Nor.
Then come, my lords; let's all together bring
This new-made counsellor to England's king. [Exeunt all but Gardiner.

Gard.
But Gardiner means his glory shall be dimm'd.
Shall Cromwell live a greater man than I?
My envy with his honour now is bred:
I hope to shorten Cromwell by the head. [Exit. SCENE II. London. A street before Cromwell's house. Enter Frescobald.

Fres.
O Frescobald, what shall become of thee?
Where shalt thou go, or which way shalt thou turn?
Fortune, that turns her too unconstant wheel,
Hath turn'd thy wealth and riches in the sea.
All parts abroad wherever I have been

Grow weary of me, and deny me succour.
My debtors, they that should relieve my want,
Forswear my money^{6 note}, say they owe me none;
They know my state too mean to bear out law:
And here in London, where I oft have been,
And have done good to many a wretched man,
I am now most wretched here, despis'd myself.
In vain it is more of their hearts to try;
Be patient therefore, lay thee down and die. [Lies down. Enter Seely and Joan.

Seely.

Come Joan, come; let's see what he'll do for us now. I wis we have done for him^{7 note}, when many a time and often he might have gone a-hungry to bed.

Joan.

Alas man, now he is made a lord, he'll never look upon us; he'll fulfill the old proverb, Set beggars a horseback and they'll ride—A well-a-day for my cow! such as he hath made us come behind hand; we had never pawn'd our cow else to pay our rent.

Seely.

Well Joan, he'll come this way; and by God's dickers I'll tell him roundly of it, an if he were ten lords: 'a shall know that I had not my cheese and my bacon for nothing.

Joan.

Do you remember, husband, how he would mouch up my cheese-cakes^{8 note}

? He hath forgot this now; but now we'll remember him^{9 note}
.

Seely.

Ay, we shall have now three flaps with a fox-tail: but i'faith I'll jibber a joint^{1 note}

Hodge.

Come; away with these beggars here. Rise up, sirrah; come out, good people; run afore there ho.

Seely.

Ay, we are kick'd away, now we come for our own; the time hath been, he would ha' look'd more friendly upon us: And you, Hodge, we know you well enough, though you are so fine.

Crom.
Come hither, sirrah:—Stay, what men are these?

My honest host of Hounslow, and his wife?
I owe thee money, father, do I not?

Seely.

Ay, by the body of me, dost thou. Would thou would'st pay me: good four pound it is; I hav't o' the post at home^{2 note}

.

Crom.
I know 'tis true. Sirrah, give him ten angels:—
And look your wife and you do stay to dinner^{3 note};
And while you live, I freely give to you
Four pound a year, for the four pound I ought you.

Seely.

Art not chang'd? Art old Tom still? Now God bless thee, good lord Tom. Home Joan, home; I'll dine with my lord Tom to day, and thou shalt come next week. Fetch my cow; home Joan, home.

Joan.

Now God bless thee, my good lord Tom: I'll fetch my cow presently.

Crom.

Sirrah, go to yon stranger; tell him, I Desire him stay to dinner: I must speak With him.

Gard.

My lord of Norfolk, see you this Same bubble? that same puff? but mark the end, My lord; mark the end.

Nor.
I promise you, I like not something he hath done:
But let that pass; the king doth love him well.

Crom.
Good morrow to my lord of Winchester: I know
You bear me hard about the abbey lands.

Gard.
Have I not reason, when religion's wrong'd?
You had no colour for what you have done.

Crom.
Yes, the abolishing of antichrist,
And of his popish order from our realm.
I am no enemy to religion;
But what is done, it is for England's good.
What did they serve for, but to feed a sort
Of lazy abbots and of full-fed fryars^{4 note}
?
They neither plow nor sow, and yet they reap
The fat of all the land, and suck the poor.
Look, what was theirs is in king Henry's hands;
His wealth before lay in the abbey lands.

Gard.
Indeed these things you have alledg'd, my lord;
When, God doth know, the infant yet unborn
Will curse the time the abbies were pull'd down.
I pray now where is hospitality?
Where now may poor distressed people go,
For to relieve their need, or rest their bones,
When weary travel doth oppress their limbs?
And where religious men should take them in,
Shall now be kept back with a mastiff dog;
And thousand thousand—

Nor.
O my lord, no more:

Things past redress 'tis bootless to complain^{5 note}

.

Crom.
What, shall we to the convocation-house?

Nor.
We'll follow you, my lord; pray lead the way. Enter old Cromwell, in the dress of a farmer.

Old Crom.

How! one Cromwell made lord keeper, since I left Putney, and dwelt in Yorkshire? I never heard better news: I'll see that Cromwell, or it shall go hard.

Crom.
My aged father! State then set aside,
Father, upon my knee I crave your blessing.
One of my servants, go, and have him in;
At better leisure will we talk with him.

Old Crom.
Now if I die, how happy were the day!
To see this comfort, rains forth showers of joy. [Exeunt old Cromwell and Servant.

Nor.
This duty in him shows a kind of grace. [Aside.

Crom.
Go on before, for time draws on apace. [Exeunt all but Frescobald.

Fres.
I wonder what this lord would have with me,
His man so strictly gave me charge to stay:
I never did offend him to my knowledge.
Well, good or bad, I mean to bide it all;
Worse than I am, now never can befall. Enter Banister and his wife.

Ban.
Come, wife,
I take it to be almost dinner time;
For master Newton, and master Crosby sent
To me last night, they would come dine with me,
And take their bond in. I pray thee, hie thee home,
And see that all things be in readiness.

Mrs. Ban.
They shall be welcome, husband; I'll go before:
But is not that man master Frescobald? [She runs and embraces him.

Ban.
O heavens! it is kind master Frescobald:
Say, sir, what hap hath brought you to this pass?

Fres.
The same that brought you to your misery.

Ban.
Why would you not acquaint me with your state?
Is Banister your poor friend then forgot,
Whose goods, whose love, whose life and all is yours?

Fres.
I thought your usage would be as the rest,
That had more kindness at my hands than you,
Yet look'd askance when as they saw me poor.

Mrs. Ban.
If Banister would bear so base a heart,
I ne'er would look my husband in the face,
But hate him as I would a cockatrice.

Ban.
And well thou might'st, should Banister deal so.
Since that I saw you, sir, my state is mended;
And for the thousand pound I owe to you,
I have it ready for you, sir, at home:
And though I grieve your fortune is so bad,
Yet that my hap's to help you, makes me glad.
And now, sir, will it please you walk with me?

Fres.
Not yet I cannot, for the lord chancellor
Hath here commanded me to wait on him:
For what I know not; pray God it be for good.

Ban.
Never make doubt of that; I'll warrant you,
He is as kind a noble gentleman,
As ever did possess the place he hath.

Mrs. Ban.
Sir, my brother is his steward: if you please,
We'll go along and bear you company;
I know we shall not want for welcome there.

Fres.
With all my heart: but what's become of Bagot?

Ban.
He is hang'd for buying jewels of the king's.

Fres.
A just reward for one so impious.
The time draws on: sir, will you go along?

Ban.
I'll follow you, kind master Frescobald. [Exeunt. SCENE III. The same. Another street. Enter Newton and Crosby.

New.
Now, master Crosby, I see you have a care
To keep your word, in payment of your money.

Cros.
By my faith I have reason on a bond.
Three thousand pound is far too much to forfeit;
And yet I doubt not master Banister.

New.
By my faith, sir, your sum is more than mine;
And yet I am not much behind you too,
Considering that to-day I paid at court.

Cros.
Mass, and well remember'd: What is the reason
Lord Cromwell's men wear such long skirts upon
Their coats? they reach down to their very hams.

New.
I will resolve you, sir; and thus it is:
The bishop of Winchester, that loves not Cromwell,
(As great men are envied as well as less)
A while ago there was a jar between them;
And it was brought to my lord Cromwell's ear
That bishop Gardiner would sit on his skirts:
Upon which word he made his men long blue coats,
And in the court wore one of them himself;
And meeting with the bishop, quoth he, my lord,
Here's skirts enough now for your grace to sit on;

Which vex'd the bishop to the very heart.
This is the reason why they wear long coats^{6 note}

Cros.
'Tis always seen, and mark it for a rule,
That one great man will envy still another;
But 'tis a thing that nothing concerns me:—
What, shall we now to master Banister's?

New.
Ay, come, we'll pay him royally for our dinner. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. The same. A room in Cromwell's house. Enter the Usher, and the Sewer^{7 note}. Several servants cross the stage with dishes in their hands.

Ush.
Uncover there, gentlemen.

Enter Cromwell, Bedford, Suffolk, old Cromwell, Frescobald, Seely, and Attendants.

Crom.
My noble lords of Suffolk and of Bedford,
Your honours are welcome to poor Cromwell's house.
Where is my father? nay, be cover'd, father;
Although that duty to these noblemen
Doth challenge it, yet I'll make bold with them.
Your head doth bear the calendar of care.
What! Cromwell cover'd, and his father bare?
It must not be.—Now, sir, to you: is not
Your name Frescobald, and a Florentine?

Fres.
My name was Frescobald, till cruel fate
Did rob me of my name, and of my state.

Crom.
What fortune brought you to this country now?

Fres.
All other parts have left me succourless,
Save only this. Because of debts I have,
I hope to gain for to relieve my want.

Crom.
Did you not once upon your Florence bridge
Help a distress'd man, robb'd by the banditti?
His name was Cromwell.

Fres.
I ne'er made my brain
A calendar of any good I did:
I always lov'd this nation with my heart.

Crom.
I am that Cromwell that you there reliev'd^{8 note}.
Sixteen ducats you gave me for to cloath me,

Sixteen to bear my charges by the way,
And sixteen more I had for my horse-hire.
There be those several sums justly return'd:
Yet it injustice were, that serving at
My need, to repay thee without interest^{9 note}