Henry VIII Act Three – “I charge thee, fling away ambition; by that sin fell the angels...”

Henry VIII Act Three – “I charge thee, fling away ambition;
 by that sin fell the angels...”

Act Three of ‘Henry VIII’ starts on a different note with Queen Katherine in her chambers when suddenly a gentleman announces that Cardinal Wolsey and Cardinal Campeius have arrived to speak to her. They say they want to speak to her in private but Queen Katherine is strong and confident when says:

“Speak it here:

There's nothing I have done yet, o' my conscience,

Deserves a corner: would all other women

Could speak this with as free a soul as I do!

My lords, I care not, so much I am happy

Above a number, if my actions

Were tried by every tongue, every eye saw 'em,

Envy and base opinion set against 'em,

I know my life so even. If your business

Seek me out, and that way I am wife in,

Out with it boldly: truth loves open dealing.”

Cardinal Wolsey claims that he wants to consult with her and offer her some good advice. Katharine rejects this and says that she is alone without friends in England. Cardinal Campeius is more forthright telling Katherine that King Henry VIII will look after her when the inevitable divorce or annulment of the marriage goes through and he offers his and Wolsey’s counsel. Katherine rejects this and eventually challenges them:

“Ye turn me into nothing: woe upon ye

And all such false professors! would you have me--

If you have any justice, any pity;

If ye be any thing but churchmen's habits--

Put my sick cause into his hands that hates me?

Alas, has banish'd me his bed already,

His love, too long ago! I am old, my lords,

And all the fellowship I hold now with him

Is only my obedience. What can happen

To me above this wretchedness? all your studies

Make me a curse like this…

Have I lived thus long--let me speak myself,

Since virtue finds no friends--a wife, a true one?

A woman, I dare say without vain-glory,

Never yet branded with suspicion?

Have I with all my full affections

Still met the king? loved him next heaven?

obey'd him?

Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him?

Almost forgot my prayers to content him?

And am I thus rewarded? 'tis not well, lords.

Bring me a constant woman to her husband,

One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure;

And to that woman, when she has done most,

Yet will I add an honour, a great patience…

My lord, I dare not make myself so guilty,

To give up willingly that noble title

Your master wed me to: nothing but death

Shall e'er divorce my dignities…

Would I had never trod this English earth,

Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it!

Ye have angels' faces, but heaven knows your hearts.

What will become of me now, wretched lady!

I am the most unhappy woman living.

Alas, poor wenches, where are now your fortunes!

Shipwreck'd upon a kingdom, where no pity,

No friend, no hope; no kindred weep for me;

Almost no grave allow'd me: like the lily,

That once was mistress of the field and flourish'd,

I'll hang my head and perish…

Do what ye will, my lords: and, pray, forgive me,

If I have used myself unmannerly;

You know I am a woman, lacking wit

To make a seemly answer to such persons.

Pray, do my service to his majesty:

He has my heart yet; and shall have my prayers

While I shall have my life. Come, reverend fathers,

Bestow your counsels on me: she now begs,

That little thought, when she set footing here,

She should have bought her dignities so dear.”

The scene then switches to Norfolk, Suffolk, Lord Chamberlain, and Surrey who discuss their objections to Cardinal Wolsey and reason that it is only through uniting against Wolsey that they can undermine his power. It is suggested by Lord Chamberlain that they could truly undermine Wolsey if they could reduce or even stop his access to King Henry VIII. Norfolk ceases on this and says that King Henry VIII is already starting to show frustration with Cardinal Wolsey over what the King perceives as Wolsey's double dealings with the King's desired divorce. Suffolk expands on this and says that the KIng's men intercepted a letter from Wolsey to the Pope which suggested that the Pope not grant a divorce until King Henry had tired of his affections for Anne Bullen. Lord Chamberlain reveals that King Henry had already married Anne Bullen in private. Suffolk says that Anne has many virtues and that she will bring blessings to the land. It is revealed that when Cranmer returns from consulting the great colleges and minds in Christendom on the matter, that news of the Henry's marriage to Anne Bullen will be published and made known to the public.

In the next scene Wolsey and Cromwell enter with a group of lords and Wolsey enquires about the delivery of his letters. Cromwell exits. In a monologue, Wolsey reveals that he wants King Henry to not marry Anne Bullen but to marry the French king's sister. He reveals that he objects to Anne Bullen because she is a Lutheran. Wolsey exits.

King Henry VIII enters with Lovell, and quietly seems concerned with the riches that he sees Wolsey as acquiring. He asks whether anyone has seen Wolsey and is told that when last seen he seemed disturbed and the Kings says that this could be because of some papers which Wolsey has lost and have ended up in henry's own hands. It is revealed that the papers reveal the extent of Wolsey's riches. Lovell is sent to find Wolsey and bring him before King Henry VIII.

When Wolsey comes before King Henry VIII, he questions Wolsey about his loyalties and Wolsey replies:

“My sovereign, I confess your royal graces,

Shower'd on me daily, have been more than could

My studied purposes requite; which went

Beyond all man's endeavours: my endeavours

Have ever come too short of my desires,

Yet filed with my abilities: mine own ends

Have been mine so that evermore they pointed

To the good of your most sacred person and

The profit of the state. For your great graces

Heap'd upon me, poor undeserver, I

Can nothing render but allegiant thanks,

My prayers to heaven for you, my loyalty,

Which ever has and ever shall be growing,

Till death, that winter, kill it.”

King Henry VIII gives Wolsey the papers supposedly showing Wolsey’s disloyalty. Then the King and the noblemen leave Wolsey. Wolsey looks at the papers. The first set of papers give an entire inventory of Wolsey’s wealth and the second set of pages are the letter from Wolsey to the Pope.

“What should this mean?

What sudden anger's this? how have I reap'd it?

He parted frowning from me, as if ruin

Leap'd from his eyes: so looks the chafed lion

Upon the daring huntsman that has gall'd him;

Then makes him nothing. I must read this paper;

I fear, the story of his anger. 'Tis so;

This paper has undone me: 'tis the account

Of all that world of wealth I have drawn together

For mine own ends; indeed, to gain the popedom,

And fee my friends in Rome. O negligence!

Fit for a fool to fall by: what cross devil

Made me put this main secret in the packet

I sent the king? Is there no way to cure this?

No new device to beat this from his brains?

I know 'twill stir him strongly; yet I know

A way, if it take right, in spite of fortune

Will bring me off again. What's this? 'To the Pope!'

The letter, as I live, with all the business

I writ to's holiness. Nay then, farewell!

I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness;

And, from that full meridian of my glory,

I haste now to my setting: I shall fall

Like a bright exhalation m the evening,

And no man see me more.”

Then Norfolk, Suffolk, Surrey, and Lord Chamberlain enter again and reveal that King Henry VIII wants Wolsey to hand back the seal of his office and then be locked in Asher House. Wolsey will not give up his office to these lords who he regards as petty and jealous. The lords accuse him of being a “proud traitor”. Wolsey then says he will only hand over his seal directly to the king.

“This, and all else

This talking lord can lay upon my credit,

I answer is most false. The duke by law

Found his deserts: how innocent I was

From any private malice in his end,

His noble jury and foul cause can witness.

If I loved many words, lord, I should tell you

You have as little honesty as honour,

That in the way of loyalty and truth

Toward the king, my ever royal master,

Dare mate a sounder man than Surrey can be,

And all that love his follies…

All goodness

Is poison to thy stomach…

How much, methinks, I could despise this man,

But that I am bound in charity against it…

So much fairer

And spotless shall mine innocence arise,

When the king knows my truth…

Speak on, sir;

I dare your worst objections: if I blush,

It is to see a nobleman want manners.”

Surrey then speaks up and derides Wolsey as being filled with ambition and no pity when he caused the death of Surrey's own father-in-law, Buckingham, and furthermore had sent Surrey himself to Ireland to get him away so there would be no objections to Buckingham's death. Wolsey says that Buckingham's death was not a personal matter and reminds Surrey that a jury sentenced Buckingham to his death not Wolsey himself. Surrey, angrily brings up Wolsey's own treason of acquiring lands and holdings of other nobles and Wolsey's machinations with the Pope against the King. Norfolk then produces a set of articles outlining Wolsey's crimes and faults which is signed by King Henry VIII himself. Wolsey claims he is innocent and that the King knows he is loyal. 

The charges against Wolsey are then read which include collusion with papal representatives with the knowledge of King Henry VIII, writing to the Pope without the King's consent and attempting to bribe the Pope. Lord Chamberlain tries to intervene saying not to push Wolsey will he is already down. Surrey offers to forgive Wolsey, and then delivers the 'death blow' when he tells Wolsey that all his property and goods are now forfeited and that the King has withdrawn his protection of Wolsey. Suffolk and the others leave and Norfolk takes a passing shot by saying that the king will be told of Wolsey's refusal to give up his seal of office and undoubtably will find a suitable way to thank him.

Wolsey is now on his own and he contemplates the fate of men of greatness:

“So farewell to the little good you bear me.

Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness!

This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth

The tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms,

And bears his blushing honours thick upon him;

The third day comes a frost, a killing frost,

And, when he thinks, good easy man, full surely

His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root,

And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured,

Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders,

This many summers in a sea of glory,

But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride

At length broke under me and now has left me,

Weary and old with service, to the mercy

Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.

Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye:

I feel my heart new open'd. O, how wretched

Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours!

There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to,

That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin,

More pangs and fears than wars or women have:

And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,

Never to hope again.”

Then Cromwell enters and genuinely seems concerned for Wolsey. Wolsey tells Cromwell not to be upset and says that he will bear all that his enemies through at him. He then asks about the news and Cromwell tells that Sir Thomas More has been appointed to Wolsey’s office and that Cranmer has returned, and that the news has been announced that Anne Bullen is King Henry’s new queen. Wolsey says that he now knows his own sun is set but advices Cromwell to go to the king:

“O Cromwell,

The king has gone beyond me: all my glories

In that one woman I have lost for ever:

No sun shall ever usher forth mine honours,

Or gild again the noble troops that waited

Upon my smiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell;

I am a poor fall'n man, unworthy now

To be thy lord and master: seek the king;

That sun, I pray, may never set! I have told him

What and how true thou art: he will advance thee;

Some little memory of me will stir him--

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.”

Cromwell is upset and says that while his service will be to the king, his prayers will stay with Wolsey. Wolsey cries as he sees his own sun set and advises Cromwell to avoid ambition and learn from Wolsey’s own mistakes:

“Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear

In all my miseries; but thou hast forced me,

Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman.

Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell;

And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be,

And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention

Of me more must be heard of, say, I taught thee,

Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory,

And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour,

Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in;

A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it.

Mark but my fall, and that that ruin'd me.

Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition:

By that sin fell the angels; how can man, then,

The image of his Maker, hope to win by it?

Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee;

Corruption wins not more than honesty.

Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace,

To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not:

Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's,

Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st,

O Cromwell,

Thou fall'st a blessed martyr! Serve the king;

And,--prithee, lead me in:

There take an inventory of all I have,

To the last penny; 'tis the king's: my robe,

And my integrity to heaven, is all

I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell!

Had I but served my God with half the zeal

I served my king, he would not in mine age

Have left me naked to mine enemies.”