A great man should decline? Nay, if you weep, Crom. How does your Grace? Wol. Why, well Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell. A peace above all earthly dignities; A still and quiet conscience. The king has cured me, A load would sink a navy, too much honor. Too heavy for a man that hopes for Heaven! Crom. I'm glad your Grace has made that right use of it. Wol. I hope I have: I am able now, methinks, Out of a fortitude of soul I feel, To endure more miseries, and greater far, Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer. Crom. The heaviest and the worst Is your displeasure with the king. Wol. God bless him! Crom. The next is, that Sir Thomas More is chosen Lord Chancelor in your place. Wol. That's somewhat sudden But he's a learned man. May he continue For truth's sake and his conscience; that his bones, Crom. That Cranmer is returned with welcome; Wol. That's news indeed. Crom. Last that the Lady Anne, Whom the king hath in secrecy long married, Going to chapel: and the voice is now Wol. There was the weight that pulled me down, O The king has gone beyond me: all my glories In that one woman I have lost forever! No sun shall ever usher forth my honors, Upon my smiles. Go get thee from me, Cromwell; To be thy Lord and master. Seek the king, 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 Wol. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear And sleep in dull, cold marble, where no mention By that sin fell the angels: how can man then, Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just and fear not, Thy God's and Truth's; then, if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, There, take an inventory of all I have, To the last penny-'tis the king's. My robe, I dare now call my own. O Cromwell, Cromwell, Crom. Good Sir, have patience. Wol. So I have. Farewell The hopes of Court! My hopes in Heaven do dwell. CLV. DIALOGUE BETWEEN HAMLET AND HORATIO.-Shakspeare. Horatio. Hail to your Lordship! Hamlet. I am glad to see you well: Horatio-or I do forget myself. Hor. The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever. Ham. Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name with you. And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio! Ham. I would not hear your eneiny say so; Nor shall you do mine ear that violence, But what is your affair at Elsinore? Hor. My lord, I came to see your father's funeral. Ham. I pray thee do not mock me, fellow student; I think it was to see my mother's wedding. Hor. Indeed, my lord, it followed hard upon. Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio; the funeral baked meats Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables. Would I had met my direst foe in heaven, Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio! My father-methinks I see my father. Hor. Where, my lord? Ham. In my mind's eye, Horatio. Hor. I saw him once; he was a goodly king. I shall not look upon his like again. Hor. My lord, I think I saw him yesternight. Hor. My lord, the king, your father. Hor. Season your admiration for a while, This marvel to you. Ham. For heaven's love let me hear. Hor. Two nights together had these gentlemen, Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch, In the dead waist and middle of the night, Been thus encountered: a figure, like your father, Appears before them, and, with solemn march, Stand dumb, and speak not to him. This to me, And I with them, the third night, kept the watch: Form of the thing, each word made true and good, These hands are not more like. Ham. But where was this? Hor. My lord, upon the platform where we watched. Ham. Did you not speak to it? Hor. My lord, I did; But answer made it none. Yet once, methought It lifted up its head, and did address Itself to motion, like as it would speak: But, even then, the morning cock crew loud; Ham. 'Tis very strange. Hor. As I do live, my honored lord, 'tis true; And we did think it writ down in our duty, To let you know of it. Ham. Indeed, indeed, sir, but this troubles me. Hold you the watch to-night? Hor. We do, my lord. Ham. Armed, say you? Ham. From top to toe? Hor. My lord, from head to foot. Ham. Then saw you not his face? Hor. O, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up. Hor. A countenance more In sorrow than in anger. Ham. Pale, or red? Hor. Nay, very pale. Ham. And fixed his eyes upon you? Hor. Most constantly. Ham. I would I had been there! Hor. It would have much amazed you. Ham. Very like, very like ;-staid it long? Hor. While one with moderate haste might tell a hun dred. |