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← and in as much harmony with you, as I have lived with Pæ_tus.'
Perfifting in her determination, fhe found means to provide herself with a dagger; and one day, when the observed a more than ufual gloom on the countenance of Pætus, and perceived that death, by the hand of the executioner appeared to him more terrible than in the field of glory-perhaps too, fenfible that it was chiefly for her fake that he wifhed to live-fhe drew the dagger from her fide, and ftabbed herself before his eyes. Then inftantly plucking
the weapon from her breaft, fhe prefented it to her husband, fay
When from her breaft chafte Arria fnatch'd the fword,
gave the deathful weapon to her lord; My wound, fhe faid, believe me, docs not fmart,
But thine, alone, my Pætus, pains my heart.
Character of Cardinal Wolfey..
CATHARINE and CROMWELL.
Ow does your grace?
ATH. O Cromwell, fick to death:
eave their burden: reach a'chair
So now methinks I feel a little eafe.
Didft thou not tell me, Cromwell, as thou led'ft me,
That the great child of honour, Cardinal Wolfey,
CROM. Yes, Madam but I think your
Out of the pain you fuffer'd, gave no car
- CATH. Pr'ythee, good Cromwell, tell
me how he dy'd.
If well, he stept before me happily,
CROM. Well, the voice goes, Madam. For after the ftout earl of Northumberland Arrefted him at York, and brought him forward
(As a man forely tainted) to his answer,
CATH. Alas, poor man!
CRC M. At laft, with eafy roads he came to Leicester,
odg'd in the abbey; where the rev'rend
With all his convent, honourably receiv'd
To whom he gave these words. "O father Abbot,
An old man broken with the storms of state,
Continual meditations, tears and forrows,
CATH. So may he reft, his faults lie bury'd with him !
Yet thus far, Cromwell, give me leave to fpeak him,
And yet with charity, he was a man
Tith'd all the kingdom; fimony was fair play:
His own opinion was his law. I'th' presence He would fay untruths, and be ever double Both in his words and meaning. He was
But where he meant to ruin, pitiful.
His promifes were, as he then was, mighty;
CROM. Noble Madam,
Men's evil manners live in brafs, their vir
We write in water*. May it please your
Had Shakefpear never written another line but this, 'twere fufficient to make him (what he is/ immortal.