Never to hope again. Why, how now, Cromwell ? [Enter Cromwell. Grom. I have no power to speak, Sir. At my misfortunes? Can thy spirit wonder A great man should decline ? Nay, if you weep, I'm fallen indeed. 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 curst me, A load would sink a navy, too much honor. Crom. I'm glad your grace has made that right use of it. Wol. I hope I have: I'm able, now, methinks, T'endure more miseries, and greater far, Crom. The heaviest and the worst Is your displeasure with the king. Vol. God bless him! Crom. The next is, that Sir Thomas Moore is chosen Lord Chancellor 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 return'd with welcome $ Install'd Lord Archbishop of Canterbury. Wol. That's news indeed! Grom. Last, that the Lady Anne, Whom the king hath in secresy long married, Only about her coronation. Wol. There was the weight that pull'd me down: O The king has gone beyond me; all my glories No sun shall ever usher forth my honors, Go, get thee from me, Cromwell; I am a poor fall'n man, unworthy now To be thy lord and master; seek the king- (I know his noble nature) not to let Thy hopeful service perish too. Good Cromwell; Crom. Oh, my lord! Must I then leave you? Must I needs forego Wol. Cromwell-I did not think to shed a tear Let's dry our eyes; and thus far hear me, Cromwell. And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention (Though the image of his Maker) hope to win by't? Love thyself last; cherish those hearts that wait thee: Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just and fear not. And pri'thee lead me in There take an inventory of all I have; To the last penny, 'tis the king's. My robe, I dare now call my own. Oh, Cromwell, Cromwell! I serv'd my king-he would not in mine age Crom. Good Sir, have patience. Wol. So I have. Farewell The hopes of court! My hopes in heaven do dwell. VII.-Sir Charles and Lady Racket. THREE WEEKS AFTER MARRIAGE. Lady R. O LA! I'm quite fatigued-I can hardly move Sir C. There-take my arm Lady R. But I won't be laugh'd at-I don't love you. Sir C. Don't you? Reach Lady R. No. Dear me! This glove! Why don't you help me off with my glove ? Pskaw! You awkward thing; let it alone: you an't fit to be about me. me a chair-you have no compassion for me I am so glad to sit down-Why do you drag me to routs ?— You know I hate 'em. Sir C. Oh! There's no existing, no breathing, unless one does as other people of fashion do. Lady R. But I'm out of humor-I lost all my money, Lady R. Three hundred. Sir C. Never fret for that-I don't value three hunred pounds, to contribute to your happiness. Lady R Don't you? Not value three hundred pounds to please me ? Sir C. You know I don't. Lady R. Ah! You fond fool!-But I hate gaming It almost metamorphoses a woman into a furyDo you know that I was frighted at myself several times tonight I had a huge oath at the very tip of my tongue. Sir C. Had you? Lady R. I caught myself at it-and so I bit my lips. And then I was crammed up in a corner of the room, with such a strange party, at a whist table, looking at black and red spots-Did you mind 'em ? Sir C. You know I was busy elsewhere. Lady R. There was that strange unaccountable woman, Mrs. Nightshade. She behaved so strangely to her husband a poor, inoffensive, good-natured, goodsort of a good for nothing kind of a man. But she so teazed him-"How could you play that card? Ah, you've a head, and so has a pin.-You're a numskull, you know you are- -Ma'am he's the poorest head in the world ;-he does not know what he is about; you know you don'tAh, fie! I'm ashamed of you !" you. I see. Sir C. She has served to divert Lady R. And then to crown all-there was my lady Clackit, who runs on with an eternal volubility of nothing, out of all season, time and place. In the very midst of the game, she begins- Lard, Ma'am, I was apprehensive I should not be able to wait on your ladyship-my poor little dog, Pompey-the sweetest thing in the world!A spade led! There's the knave.I was fetching a walk, Me'em, the other morning in the Park-A fine frosty morning it was. I love frosty weather of all things-let me look at the last trick-and so Me'em, little Pompey-and if your ladyship was to see the dear creature pinched with the frost, and mincing his steps along the Mall-with his pretty little innocent face -I vow I don't know what to play. And so, Me'em, while I was talking to Captain Fiimsey-your ladyship knows Captain Flimsey-Nothing but rubbish in my hand!--I can't help if.-And so, Me'em, five odious frights of dogs beset my poor little Pompey-the dear creature has the heart of a lion; but who can resist five at once ? And so Pompey barked for assistance—the hurt he received was upon his chest-the doctor would not advise him to venture out till the wound is healed, for fear of an inflamation. Pray what's trumps ?" Sir C. My dear, you'd make a most excellent actress. Lady R. Well, now, let's go to rest-but, Sir Charles, how shockingly you play'd that last rubber, when I stood looking over you! Sir C. My love, I play'd the truth of the game. Lady R. No, indeed my dear, you played it wrong. Sir C. Po! Nonsense! You don't understand it. Lady R. I beg your pardon, I'm allowed to play better than you. Sir C. All conceit, my dear! I was perfectly right. Lady R. No such thing, Sir Charles; the diamond was the play. Sir C. Po! po! Ridiculous! The club was the card, against the world. Lady R. Oh! No, no, no-I say it was the diamond. Sir C. Madam, I say it was the club. Lady R. What do you fly into such a passion for? Sir C. Death and fury! Do you think I don't know what I'm about? I tell you once more, the club was the judgment of it. Lady R. May be so-have it your own way. Sir C. Vexation! You're the strangest woman that ever lived; there's no conversing with you.-Look 'ye here, my Lady Racket'tis the clearest case in the world I'll make it plain in a moment. Lady R. Well, Sir; ha, ha, ha! Sir C. I had four cards left-a trump had ledthey were six-no, no, no-they were seven, and we nine-then, you know- the beauty of the play was to Lady R. Well, now, 'tis amazing to me,that you can't see it. Give me leave, Sir Charles-your left hand adversary had led his last trump-and he had before finessed the club, and roughed the diamond-now if you had put on your diamond Sir C. But, Madam, we played for the odd trick. |