WOLSEY.
All goodness
Is poison to thy stomach.
SURREY.
Yes, that goodness
Of gleaning all the land’s wealth into one,
Into your own hands, Cardinal, by extortion;
The goodness of your intercepted packets
You writ to the Pope against the King. Your goodness,
Since you provoke me, shall be most notorious.
My Lord of Norfolk, as you are truly noble,
As you respect the common good, the state
Of our despised nobility, our issues,
Who, if he live, will scarce be gentlemen,
Produce the grand sum of his sins, the articles
Collected from his life. I’ll startle you
Worse than the sacring bell when the brown wench
Lay kissing in your arms, Lord Cardinal.
WOLSEY.
How much, methinks, I could despise this man,
But that I am bound in charity against it!
NORFOLK.
Those articles, my lord, are in the King’s hand;
But thus much, they are foul ones.
WOLSEY.
So much fairer
And spotless shall mine innocence arise
When the King knows my truth.
SURREY.
This cannot save you.
I thank my memory I yet remember
Some of these articles, and out they shall.
Now, if you can blush and cry “Guilty,” Cardinal,
You’ll show a little honesty.
WOLSEY.
Speak on, sir;
I dare your worst objections. If I blush,
It is to see a nobleman want manners.
SURREY.
I had rather want those than my head. Have at you!
First, that without the King’s assent or knowledge,
You wrought to be a legate, by which power
You maimed the jurisdiction of all bishops.
NORFOLK.
Then, that in all you writ to Rome, or else
To foreign princes, “ego et rex meus”
Was still inscribed, in which you brought the King
To be your servant.
SUFFOLK.
Then, that without the knowledge
Either of King or Council, when you went
Ambassador to the Emperor, you made bold
To carry into Flanders the great seal.