Chapter: Enter the Duke of Norfolke, Duke of Suffolke, Lord Surrey, and
Lord
Chamberlaine.

Norf. If you will now vnite in your Complaints,
    And force them with a Constancy, the Cardinall
    Cannot stand vnder them. If you omit
    The offer of this time, I cannot promise,
    But that you shall sustaine moe new disgraces,
    With these you beare alreadie

    Sur. I am ioyfull
    To meete the least occasion, that may giue me
    Remembrance of my Father-in-Law, the Duke,
    To be reueng'd on him

    Suf. Which of the Peeres
    Haue vncontemn'd gone by him, or at least
    Strangely neglected? When did he regard
    The stampe of Noblenesse in any person
    Out of himselfe?
    Cham. My Lords, you speake your pleasures:
    What he deserues of you and me, I know:
    What we can do to him (though now the time
            Giues way to vs) I much feare. If you cannot
    Barre his accesse to'th' King, neuer attempt
    Any thing on him: for he hath a Witchcraft
    Ouer the King in's Tongue

    Nor. O feare him not,
    His spell in that is out: the King hath found
    Matter against him, that for euer marres
    The Hony of his Language. No, he's setled
    (Not to come off) in his displeasure

    Sur. Sir,
    I should be glad to heare such Newes as this
    Once euery houre

    Nor. Beleeue it, this is true.
    In the Diuorce, his contrarie proceedings
    Are all vnfolded: wherein he appeares,
    As I would wish mine Enemy

    Sur. How came
    His practises to light?
    Suf. Most strangely

    Sur. O how? how?
    Suf. The Cardinals Letters to the Pope miscarried,
    And came to th' eye o'th' King, wherein was read
    How that the Cardinall did intreat his Holinesse
    To stay the Iudgement o'th' Diuorce; for if
    It did take place, I do (quoth he) perceiue
    My King is tangled in affection, to
    A Creature of the Queenes, Lady Anne Bullen

    Sur. Ha's the King this?
    Suf. Beleeue it

    Sur. Will this worke?
    Cham. The King in this perceiues him, how he coasts
    And hedges his owne way. But in this point
    All his trickes founder, and he brings his Physicke
    After his Patients death; the King already
    Hath married the faire Lady

    Sur. Would he had

    Suf. May you be happy in your wish my Lord,
    For I professe you haue it

    Sur. Now all my ioy
    Trace the Coniunction

    Suf. My Amen too't

    Nor. All mens

    Suf. There's order giuen for her Coronation:
    Marry this is yet but yong, and may be left
    To some eares vnrecounted. But my Lords
    She is a gallant Creature, and compleate
    In minde and feature. I perswade me, from her
    Will fall some blessing to this Land, which shall
    In it be memoriz'd

    Sur. But will the King
    Digest this Letter of the Cardinals?
    The Lord forbid

    Nor. Marry Amen

    Suf. No, no:
    There be moe Waspes that buz about his Nose,
    Will make this sting the sooner. Cardinall Campeius,
    Is stolne away to Rome, hath 'tane no leaue,
    Ha's left the cause o'th' King vnhandled, and
    Is posted as the Agent of our Cardinall,
    To second all his plot. I do assure you,
    The King cry'de Ha, at this

    Cham. Now God incense him,
    And let him cry Ha, lowder

    Norf. But my Lord
    When returnes Cranmer?
    Suf. He is return'd in his Opinions, which
    Haue satisfied the King for his Diuorce,
    Together with all famous Colledges
    Almost in Christendome: shortly (I beleeue)
    His second Marriage shall be publishd, and
    Her Coronation. Katherine no more
    Shall be call'd Queene, but Princesse Dowager,
    And Widdow to Prince Arthur

    Nor. This same Cranmer's
    A worthy Fellow, and hath tane much paine
    In the Kings businesse

    Suff. He ha's, and we shall see him
    For it, an Arch-byshop

    Nor. So I heare

    Suf. 'Tis so.
    Enter Wolsey and Cromwell.

    The Cardinall

    Nor. Obserue, obserue, hee's moody

    Car. The Packet Cromwell,
    Gau't you the King?
    Crom. To his owne hand, in's Bed-chamber

    Card. Look'd he o'th' inside of the Paper?
    Crom. Presently
    He did vnseale them, and the first he view'd,
    He did it with a Serious minde: a heede
    Was in his countenance. You he bad
    Attend him heere this Morning

    Card. Is he ready to come abroad?
    Crom. I thinke by this he is

    Card. Leaue me a while.

    Exit Cromwell.

    It shall be to the Dutches of Alanson,
    The French Kings Sister; He shall marry her.
    Anne Bullen? No: Ile no Anne Bullens for him,
    There's more in't then faire Visage. Bullen?
    No, wee'l no Bullens: Speedily I wish
    To heare from Rome. The Marchionesse of Penbroke?
    Nor. He's discontented

    Suf. Maybe he heares the King
    Does whet his Anger to him

    Sur. Sharpe enough,
    Lord for thy Iustice

    Car. The late Queenes Gentlewoman?
    A Knights Daughter
    To be her Mistris Mistris? The Queenes, Queene?
    This Candle burnes not cleere, 'tis I must snuffe it,
    Then out it goes. What though I know her vertuous
    And well deseruing? yet I know her for
    A spleeny Lutheran, and not wholsome to
    Our cause, that she should lye i'th' bosome of
    Our hard rul'd King. Againe, there is sprung vp
    An Heretique, an Arch-one; Cranmer, one
    Hath crawl'd into the fauour of the King,
    And is his Oracle

    Nor. He is vex'd at something.
    Enter King, reading of a Scedule.

    Sur. I would 'twer somthing y would fret the string,
    The Master-cord on's heart

    Suf. The King, the King

    King. What piles of wealth hath he accumulated
    To his owne portion? And what expence by'th' houre
    Seemes to flow from him? How, i'th' name of Thrift
    Does he rake this together? Now my Lords,
    Saw you the Cardinall?
    Nor. My Lord, we haue
    Stood heere obseruing him. Some strange Commotion
    Is in his braine: He bites his lip, and starts,
    Stops on a sodaine, lookes vpon the ground,
    Then layes his finger on his Temple: straight
    Springs out into fast gate, then stops againe,
    Strikes his brest hard, and anon, he casts
    His eye against the Moone: in most strange Postures
    We haue seene him set himselfe

    King. It may well be,
    There is a mutiny in's minde. This morning,
    Papers of State he sent me, to peruse
    As I requir'd: and wot you what I found
There (on my Conscience put vnwittingly)
    Forsooth an Inuentory, thus importing
    The seuerall parcels of his Plate, his Treasure,
    Rich Stuffes and Ornaments of Houshold, which
    I finde at such proud Rate, that it out-speakes
    Possession of a Subiect

    Nor. It's Heauens will,
    Some Spirit put this paper in the Packet,
    To blesse your eye withall

    King. If we did thinke
    His Contemplation were aboue the earth,
    And fixt on Spirituall obiect, he should still
    Dwell in his Musings, but I am affraid
    His Thinkings are below the Moone, not worth
    His serious considering.

    King takes his Seat, whispers Louell, who goes to the Cardinall.

    Car. Heauen forgiue me,
    Euer God blesse your Highnesse

    King. Good my Lord,
    You are full of Heauenly stuffe, and beare the Inuentory
    Of your best Graces, in your minde; the which
    You were now running o're: you haue scarse time
    To steale from Spirituall leysure, a briefe span
    To keepe your earthly Audit, sure in that
    I deeme you an ill Husband, and am glad
    To haue you therein my Companion

    Car. Sir,
    For Holy Offices I haue a time; a time
    To thinke vpon the part of businesse, which
    I beare i'th' State: and Nature does require
    Her times of preseruation, which perforce
    I her fraile sonne, among'st my Brethren mortall,
    Must giue my tendance to

    King. You haue said well

    Car. And euer may your Highnesse yoake together,
    (As I will lend you cause) my doing well,
    With my well saying

    King. 'Tis well said agen,
    And 'tis a kinde of good deede to say well,
    And yet words are no deeds. My Father lou'd you,
    He said he did, and with his deed did Crowne
    His word vpon you. Since I had my Office,
    I haue kept you next my Heart, haue not alone
    Imploy'd you where high Profits might come home,
    But par'd my present Hauings, to bestow
    My Bounties vpon you

    Car. What should this meane?
    Sur. The Lord increase this businesse

    King. Haue I not made you
    The prime man of the State? I pray you tell me,
    If what I now pronounce, you haue found true:
    And if you may confesse it, say withall
    If you are bound to vs, or no. What say you?
    Car. My Soueraigne, I confesse your Royall graces
    Showr'd on me daily, haue bene more then could
    My studied purposes requite, which went
    Beyond all mans endeauors. My endeauors,
    Haue euer come too short of my Desires,
    Yet fill'd with my Abilities: Mine owne ends
    Haue beene mine so, that euermore they pointed
    To'th' good of your most Sacred Person, and
    The profit of the State. For your great Graces
    Heap'd vpon me (poore Vndeseruer) I
    Can nothing render but Allegiant thankes,
    My Prayres to heauen for you; my Loyaltie
    Which euer ha's, and euer shall be growing,
    Till death (that Winter) kill it

    King. Fairely answer'd:
    A Loyall, and obedient Subiect is
    Therein illustrated, the Honor of it
    Does pay the Act of it, as i'th' contrary
    The fowlenesse is the punishment. I presume,
    That as my hand ha's open'd Bounty to you,
    My heart drop'd Loue, my powre rain'd Honor, more
    On you, then any: So your Hand, and Heart,
    Your Braine, and euery Function of your power,
    Should, notwithstanding that your bond of duty,
    As 'twer in Loues particular, be more
    To me your Friend, then any

    Car. I do professe,
    That for your Highnesse good, I euer labour'd
    More then mine owne: that am, haue, and will be
    (Though all the world should cracke their duty to you,
     And throw it from their Soule, though perils did
     Abound, as thicke as thought could make 'em, and
     Appeare in formes more horrid) yet my Duty,
    As doth a Rocke against the chiding Flood,
    Should the approach of this wilde Riuer breake,
    And stand vnshaken yours

    King. 'Tis Nobly spoken:
    Take notice Lords, he ha's a Loyall brest,
    For you haue seene him open't. Read o're this,
    And after this, and then to Breakfast with
    What appetite you haue.

    Exit King, frowning vpon the Cardinall, the Nobles throng after
    him
    smiling, and whispering.

    Car. What should this meane?
    What sodaine Anger's this? How haue I reap'd it?
    He parted Frowning from me, as if Ruine
    Leap'd from his Eyes. So lookes the chafed Lyon
    Vpon the daring Huntsman that has gall'd him:
    Then makes him nothing. I must reade this paper:
    I feare the Story of his Anger. 'Tis so:
    This paper ha's vndone me: 'Tis th' Accompt
    Of all that world of Wealth I haue drawne together
    For mine owne ends, (Indeed to gaine the Popedome,
            And fee my Friends in Rome.) O Negligence!
    Fit for a Foole to fall by: What crosse Diuell
    Made me put this maine Secret in the Packet
    I sent the King? Is there no way to cure this?
    No new deuice to beate this from his Braines?
    I know 'twill stirre him strongly; yet I know
    A way, if it take right, in spight of Fortune
    Will bring me off againe. What's this? To th' Pope?
    The Letter (as I liue) with all the Businesse
    I writ too's Holinesse. Nay then, farewell:
    I haue touch'd the highest point of all my Greatnesse,
    And from that full Meridian of my Glory,
    I haste now to my Setting. I shall fall
    Like a bright exhalation in the Euening,
    And no man see me more.
    Enter to Woolsey, the Dukes of Norfolke and Suffolke, the Earle
    of Surrey,
    and the Lord Chamberlaine.

    Nor. Heare the Kings pleasure Cardinall,
    Who commands you
    To render vp the Great Seale presently
    Into our hands, and to Confine your selfe
    To Asher-house, my Lord of Winchesters,
    Till you heare further from his Highnesse

    Car. Stay:
    Where's your Commission? Lords, words cannot carrie
    Authority so weighty

    Suf. Who dare crosse 'em,
    Bearing the Kings will from his mouth expressely?
    Car. Till I finde more then will, or words to do it,
    (I meane your malice) know, Officious Lords,
    I dare, and must deny it. Now I feele
    Of what course Mettle ye are molded, Enuy,
    How eagerly ye follow my Disgraces
    As if it fed ye, and how sleeke and wanton
    Ye appeare in euery thing may bring my ruine?
    Follow your enuious courses, men of Malice;
    You haue Christian warrant for 'em, and no doubt
    In time will finde their fit Rewards. That Seale
    You aske with such a Violence, the King
    (Mine, and your Master) with his owne hand, gaue me:
    Bad me enioy it, with the Place, and Honors
    During my life; and to confirme his Goodnesse,
    Ti'de it by Letters Patents. Now, who'll take it?
    Sur. The King that gaue it

    Car. It must be himselfe then

    Sur. Thou art a proud Traitor, Priest

    Car. Proud Lord, thou lyest:
    Within these fortie houres, Surrey durst better
    Haue burnt that Tongue, then saide so

    Sur. Thy Ambition
    (Thou Scarlet sinne) robb'd this bewailing Land
    Of Noble Buckingham, my Father-in-Law,
    The heads of all thy Brother-Cardinals,
    (With thee, and all thy best parts bound together)
    Weigh'd not a haire of his. Plague of your policie,
    You sent me Deputie for Ireland,
    Farre from his succour; from the King, from all
    That might haue mercie on the fault, thou gau'st him:
    Whil'st your great Goodnesse, out of holy pitty,
    Absolu'd him with an Axe

    Wol. This, and all else
    This talking Lord can lay vpon my credit,
    I answer, is most false. The Duke by Law
    Found his deserts. How innocent I was
    From any priuate malice in his end,
    His Noble Iurie, and foule Cause can witnesse.
    If I lou'd many words, Lord, I should tell you,
    You haue as little Honestie, as Honor,
    That in the way of Loyaltie, and Truth,
    Toward the King, my euer Roiall Master,
    Dare mate a sounder man then Surrie can be,
    And all that loue his follies

    Sur. By my Soule,
    Your long Coat (Priest) protects you,
    Thou should'st feele
    My Sword i'th' life blood of thee else. My Lords,
    Can ye endure to heare this Arrogance?
    And from this Fellow? If we liue thus tamely,
    To be thus Iaded by a peece of Scarlet,
    Farewell Nobilitie: let his Grace go forward,
    And dare vs with his Cap, like Larkes

    Card. All Goodnesse
    Is poyson to thy Stomacke

    Sur. Yes, that goodnesse
    Of gleaning all the Lands wealth into one,
    Into your owne hands (Card'nall) by Extortion:
    The goodnesse of your intercepted Packets
    You writ to'th Pope, against the King: your goodnesse
    Since you prouoke me, shall be most notorious.
    My Lord of Norfolke, as you are truly Noble,
    As you respect the common good, the State
    Of our despis'd Nobilitie, our Issues,
    (Whom if he liue, will scarse be Gentlemen)
    Produce the grand summe of his sinnes, the Articles
    Collected from his life. Ile startle you
    Worse then the Sacring Bell, when the browne Wench
    Lay kissing in your Armes, Lord Cardinall

    Car. How much me thinkes, I could despise this man,
    But that I am bound in Charitie against it

    Nor. Those Articles, my Lord, are in the Kings hand:
    But thus much, they are foule ones

    Wol. So much fairer
    And spotlesse, shall mine Innocence arise,
    When the King knowes my Truth

    Sur. This cannot saue you:
    I thanke my Memorie, I yet remember
    Some of these Articles, and out they shall.
    Now, if you can blush, and crie guiltie Cardinall,
    You'l shew a little Honestie

    Wol. Speake on Sir,
    I dare your worst Obiections: If I blush,
    It is to see a Nobleman want manners

    Sur. I had rather want those, then my head;
    Haue at you.
    First, that without the Kings assent or knowledge,
    You wrought to be a Legate, by which power
    You maim'd the Iurisdiction of all Bishops

    Nor. Then, That in all you writ to Rome, or else
    To Forraigne Princes, Ego & Rex meus
    Was still inscrib'd: in which you brought the King
    To be your Seruant

    Suf. Then, that without the knowledge
    Either of King or Councell, when you went
    Ambassador to the Emperor, you made bold
    To carry into Flanders, the Great Seale


    Sur. Item, You sent a large Commission
    To Gregory de Cassado, to conclude
    Without the Kings will, or the States allowance,
    A League betweene his Highnesse, and Ferrara

    Suf. That out of meere Ambition, you haue caus'd
    Your holy-Hat to be stampt on the Kings Coine

    Sur. Then, That you haue sent inumerable substance,
    (By what meanes got, I leaue to your owne conscience)
    To furnish Rome, and to prepare the wayes
    You haue for Dignities, to the meere vndooing
    Of all the Kingdome. Many more there are,
    Which since they are of you, and odious,
    I will not taint my mouth with

    Cham. O my Lord,
    Presse not a falling man too farre: 'tis Vertue:
    His faults lye open to the Lawes, let them
    (Not you) correct him. My heart weepes to see him
    So little, of his great Selfe

    Sur. I forgiue him

    Suf. Lord Cardinall, the Kings further pleasure is,
    Because all those things you haue done of late
    By your power Legatine within this Kingdome,
    Fall into 'th' compasse of a Premunire;
That therefore such a Writ be sued against you,
     To forfeit all your Goods, Lands, Tenements,
     Castles, and whatsoeuer, and to be
     Out of the Kings protection. This is my Charge

     Nor. And so wee'l leaue you to your Meditations
     How to liue better. For your stubborne answer
     About the giuing backe the Great Seale to vs,
     The King shall know it, and (no doubt) shal thanke you.
     So fare you well, my little good Lord Cardinall.

     Exeunt. all but Wolsey.

     Wol. So farewell, to the little good you beare me.
     Farewell? A long farewell to all my Greatnesse.
     This is the state of Man; to day he puts forth
     The tender Leaues of hopes, to morrow Blossomes,
     And beares his blushing Honors thicke vpon him:
     The third day, comes a Frost; a killing Frost,
     And when he thinkes, good easie man, full surely
     His Greatnesse is a ripening, nippes his roote,
     And then he fals as I do. I haue ventur'd
     Like little wanton Boyes that swim on bladders:
     This many Summers in a Sea of Glory,
     But farre beyond my depth: my high-blowne Pride
     At length broke vnder me, and now ha's left me
     Weary, and old with Seruice, to the mercy
     Of a rude streame, that must for euer hide me.
     Vaine pompe, and glory of this World, I hate ye,
     I feele my heart new open'd. Oh how wretched
     Is that poore man, that hangs on Princes fauours?
     There is betwixt that smile we would aspire too,
     That sweet Aspect of Princes, and their ruine,
     More pangs, and feares then warres, or women haue;
And when he falles, he falles like Lucifer,
    Neuer to hope againe.
    Enter Cromwell, standing amazed.

    Why how now Cromwell?
    Crom. I haue no power to speake Sir

    Car. What, amaz'd
    At my misfortunes? Can thy Spirit wonder
    A great man should decline. Nay, and you weep
    I am falne indeed

    Crom. How does your Grace

    Card. Why well:
    Neuer so truly happy, my good Cromwell,
    I know my selfe now, and I feele within me,
    A peace aboue all earthly Dignities,
    A still, and quiet Conscience. The King ha's cur'd me,
    I humbly thanke his Grace: and from these shoulders
    These ruin'd Pillers, out of pitty, taken
A loade, would sinke a Nauy, (too much Honor.)
    O 'tis a burden Cromwel, 'tis a burden
    Too heauy for a man, that hopes for Heauen

    Crom. I am glad your Grace,
    Ha's made that right vse of it

    Card. I hope I haue:
    I am able now (me thinkes)
(Out of a Fortitude of Soule, I feele)
    To endure more Miseries, and greater farre
    Then my Weake-hearted Enemies, dare offer.
    What Newes abroad?
    Crom. The heauiest, and the worst,
    Is your displeasure with the King

    Card. God blesse him

    Crom. The next is, that Sir Thomas Moore is chosen
    Lord Chancellor, in your place

    Card. That's somewhat sodain.
    But he's a Learned man. May he continue
    Long in his Highnesse fauour, and do Iustice
    For Truths-sake, and his Conscience; that his bones,
    When he ha's run his course, and sleepes in Blessings,
    May haue a Tombe of Orphants teares wept on him.
    What more?
    Crom. That Cranmer is return'd with welcome;
    Install'd Lord Arch-byshop of Canterbury

    Card. That's Newes indeed

    Crom. Last, that the Lady Anne,
    Whom the King hath in secrecie long married,
    This day was view'd in open, as his Queene,
    Going to Chappell: and the voyce is now
    Onely about her Corronation

    Card. There was the waight that pull'd me downe.
    O Cromwell,
    The King ha's gone beyond me: All my Glories
    In that one woman, I haue lost for euer.
    No Sun, shall euer vsher forth mine Honors,
    Or gilde againe the Noble Troopes that waighted
    Vpon my smiles. Go get thee from me Cromwel,
    I am a poore falne man, vnworthy now
    To be thy Lord, and Master. Seeke the King
    (That Sun, I pray may neuer set) I haue told him,
    What, and how true thou art; he will aduance thee:
    Some little memory of me, will stirre him
    (I know his Noble Nature) not to let
    Thy hopefull seruice perish too. Good Cromwell
    Neglect him not; make vse now, and prouide
    For thine owne future safety

    Crom. O my Lord,
    Must I then leaue you? Must I needes forgo
    So good, so Noble, and so true a Master?
    Beare witnesse, all that haue not hearts of Iron,
    With what a sorrow Cromwel leaues his Lord.
    The King shall haue my seruice; but my prayres
    For euer, and for euer shall be yours

    Card. Cromwel, I did not thinke to shed a teare
    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 farre heare me Cromwel,
    And when I am forgotten, as I shall be,
    And sleepe in dull cold Marble, where no mention
    Of me, more must be heard of: Say I taught thee;
    Say Wolsey, that once trod the wayes of Glory,
    And sounded all the Depths, and Shoales of Honor,
    Found thee a way (out of his wracke) to rise in:
    A sure, and safe one, though thy Master mist it.
    Marke but my Fall, and that that Ruin'd me:
    Cromwel, I charge thee, fling away Ambition,
    By that sinne fell the Angels: how can man then
    (The Image of his Maker) hope to win by it?
    Loue thy selfe last, cherish those hearts that hate thee;
    Corruption wins not more then Honesty.
    Still in thy right hand, carry gentle Peace
    To silence enuious Tongues. Be iust, and feare not;
    Let all the ends thou aym'st at, be thy Countries,
    Thy Gods, and Truths. Then if thou fall'st (O Cromwell)
    Thou fall'st a blessed Martyr.
    Serue the King: And prythee leade me in:
    There take an Inuentory of all I haue,
    To the last peny, 'tis the Kings. My Robe,
    And my Integrity to Heauen, is all,
    I dare now call mine owne. O Cromwel, Cromwel,
    Had I but seru'd my God, with halfe the Zeale
    I seru'd my King: he would not in mine Age
    Haue left me naked to mine Enemies

    Crom. Good Sir, haue patience

    Card. So I haue. Farewell
    The Hopes of Court, my Hopes in Heauen do dwell.

    Exeunt.

 Norfolk, Suffolk, Surrey, and Lord Chamberlain have a little meeting about Wolsey: he's become a problem, and they know it. They're just not sure what to do about it. Norfolk wants to present a united front. He thinks that Wolsey can't deny all their complaints if they join up. Lord Chamberlain doesn't know if that will work. Wolsey's got private access to the king, so he can explain away anything he does when he's alone with Henry. They need to get Wolsey away from the king if they want to have a chance. Norfolk isn't so worried about that. Henry is already ticked at Wolsey; the divorce proceedings have shed some light on some of Wolsey's wheeling and dealing. Suffolk fills us in on the deets: Henry found Wolsey's letters to the Pope. In them, Wolsey asked the Pope to deny Henry's right to divorce Katherine until he gets over Anne. Uh oh. This might explain why the Lord Chamberlain heard that Henry had already married Anne; it would mean that Henry had gone ahead with his own plans since Wolsey was double-crossing him. Suffolk thinks this is good news, because Anne is virtuous. He's also heard that Cranmer will be back soon, and then Henry will officially announce his new bride. He'll also give Katherine the title "Princess Dowager." She's the widow of his brother, so it's only fitting. That was a lot of gossip to get through, but now the men are all caught up. They agree that Cranmer is a worthy guy, and that things are looking up. That's when Wolsey and Cromwell enter. Norfolk notices that Wolsey is moody: he's asking Cromwell about his letters, and then he asks to be left alone. He tells us that Henry will marry the French king's sister, and that this Anne business is just a whim. How can Wolsey get rid of Anne? Well, he'll say she's of the wrong religion--she's Lutheran. That ought to work. Wolsey tells us how much he hates that Cranmer has such favor with the king. The other men are still watching Wolsey, and Suffolk thinks that Wolsey is annoyed about something. Henry enters, ticked off at all the wealth Wolsey has. He asks the men if they've seen the Wolsey, and Norfolk says they have... but he's in a really weird mood, so the king should beware. Henry figures that Wolsey is in a bad mood because he's misplaced a bunch of his papers. Henry summons Wolsey and calls him a bad domestic manager: he must be too busy with praying and other spiritual stuff to worry about things here on earth. Don't worry, Wolsey replies. He can do cover both the spiritual and the earthly business. Excellent, says Henry. Then he gives us some backstory: his dad really loved Wolsey, and it was his dad who hired the guy. Since Henry has been king, he's been nice to Wolsey. It's clear that Henry isn't just interested in Wolsey's hiring process, but we're not sure what he's getting at. Neither is Wolsey, who mutters about his confusion to himself. Henry continues, this time trying to get Wolsey to admit that he's the king's number one guy, his right-hand man, and his most trusted adviser. Finally, Wolsey gives in and admits it: he's a loyal subject, and he's been showered with gifts, all of which he's super grateful for. "Okay, then," Henry replies. "So what's the deal with these letters I found?" Henry hands over the letters and asks Wolsey to explain. Afterward, Henry says, they'll have breakfast together. Pancakes, anyone? Henry and the nobles leave Wolsey alone to read through the letters. Wolsey is beyond confused. He wonders how the king can be so mad at him when he's done nothing wrong. Then Wolsey sees the letters and knows he's a goner. He's gone all the way to the top, and now he's gonna plummet so fast. His career is toast. Norfolk, Suffolk, Surrey, and Lord Chamberlain come back in and tell Wolsey that the king has ordered for him to give up his seal of office. Ouch. Never one to take anything lying down, Wolsey refuses. He won't do something just because one of them says he should; they're lower than him on the status scale, and they're just envious of him. Surrey calls Wolsey ambitious and says he's a plague to the country; plus, Wolsey orchestrated his father-in-law's death. That's not cool, man. But Wolsey just defends himself: he's completely innocent, and as for Buckingham, he got what was coming to him. This just angers Surrey, who starts listing Wolsey's wrongs, starting with taking lands away from nobles. Norfolk chimes in that he's got a whole laundry list of Wolsey's bad deeds. Again, Wolsey defends himself and says the king knows he's loyal. Suffolk, Surrey, and Norfolk read out the following charges against Wolsey: 1) that he's scheming to be the Pope's rep without asking Henry; 2) that he's taking the royal seal to Flanders; 3) that he's starting up an alliance between Ferrara and England without the king's knowledge; 4) that he's putting his holy hat on the king's coin; 5) that he's bribing the Pope... and the list goes on. Chamberlain steps in and says they shouldn't keep pressing on. It's not right to do it when Wolsey is already down. All the men leave except for Wolsey, who delivers a speech about fate. He thought he was on the right path to success, but he stood on pride alone, and that couldn't hold him up. He curses the world and wishes he didn't need the king's favor to do well in life. Cromwell comes in and stands amazed for a while, unable to speak at the sight of the forlorn Wolsey. Wolsey tells him not to worry and not to pity him; he'll be okay. The king's done him favors before, after all. Cromwell fills Wolsey in on the latest news: Henry promoted Sir Thomas More to Wolsey's old job; Cranmer is finally back; and Anne is the new queen. Wolsey thinks it's all somewhat sudden, but he realizes that the king has moved on from him now. He instructs Cromwell to seek the king so he can profit from being close to him; he shouldn't get dragged down with Wolsey. Cromwell is bummed to leave Wolsey, but he'll pray for him. In turn, Wolsey gives a heartfelt goodbye to Cromwell and reminds him not to be dishonest or dishonorable: those are the most important things Wolsey can teach him. Wolsey says Cromwell should serve the king with all his heart. With that, the men part ways.

