Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell.
I know myself now; and I feel within me
A peace above all earthly dignities;

Why, well.

A still and quiet conscience. The king has cured me,
I humbly thank his grace; and from these shoulders,
These ruined pillars, out of pity, taken

A load would sink a navy; too much honour.

Oh, 'tis a burden, Cromwell, 'tis a burden

Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven.

Crom. I am glad your grace has made that right use of it. Wol. I hope I have, I am able now, methinks

(Out of a fortitude of soul I feel),

To endure more miseries, and greater far,
Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer.
What news abroad?

Crom.

The heaviest and the worst

Is your displeasure with the king.

Wol.

God bless him!

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

Wol.

That's somewhat sudden;

But he's a learned man; may he continue

Long in his highness' favour, and do justice

For truth's sake and his conscience; that his bones,
When he has run his course and sleeps in blessings,
May have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on 'em!
What more?

Crom.

That Cranmer is returned with welcome,

Installed Lord Archbishop of Canterbury.

Wol. That's news, indeed!
Crom.

Last, that the lady Anne,

Whom the king hath in secrecy long married,
This day was viewed in open as his

queen,

Going to chapel; and the voice is now

Only about her coronation.

Wol. There was the weight that pulled me down, 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 fallen 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.

Crom.
O my lord,
Must I then leave you; must I needs forego
So good, so noble, and so true a master?
Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron,
With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord.
The king shall have my service; but my prayers
For ever and for ever shall be yours.

Wol. 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 missed it.
Mark but my fall, and that that ruined 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 't?
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 blessèd martyr. Serve the king,

And-pr'ythee, 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.

EXERCISE 1.-Define :-Amazed, conscience, humbly, navy, burden, endure, justice, orphan, secrecy, queen, memory, neglect.

EXERCISE 2.-Write out the historical facts referred to in the above extract.

39

ENGLISH IN THE TIME OF CHAUCER.

Crude, in a rough or unpolished

form.

Romances, tales of heroic deeds
in poetical form.
Introduction, that which leads to.
Minstrels, the poets and song-
sters of early times.
Troubadours, the minstrels of
Provence.

Metrical, composed of regularly
formed lines.

Ballad, a simple, metrical poem.
Vivid, quick.

Description, a representation in
words.
Literature,

written thoughts

that outlive their authors. Successfully, with a prosperous result.

IF the age of Elizabeth may be looked upon as that in which our language arrived at its maturity, we may, with equal truth, go back two centuries from that period, and speak of the time of Edward III., or about the middle of the fourteenth century, as that which marked the merging of our language from infancy into robust youth.

The language of this time, known as old English, has much of the force of our modern English, but is wanting in its variety and richness, while it retained many crude expressions and involved forms of construction.

For some time the language of the mass of the people had been undergoing change, by the introduction of terms and phrases from the Norman-French. It was in metrical romances, first in the more musical French, and afterwards in English, that the minstrels sang their songs of the heroic deeds of the knights of their own and former times; these were heard and read at court, and by all who at the time made any pretensions to learning.

To these songs of the troubadours, as they were called,

of France, Spain, and Italy, succeeded some homely ballads and poems in the old English. Of these, the "Vision of Piers Plowman," probably written by Richard Langland, is very interesting for its vivid description of the persons, manners, follies, and vices of the time.

But the name that stands out most prominently in the early history of our language and literature is that of Geoffrey Chaucer, who has well been called the "Father of our English Poetry."

Chaucer lived during the greater part of the fourteenth century, having been born in 1328 and died in 1400. He lived much at court, and was acquainted with the literature of France and Italy.

To the strength of the native tongue he added much of the ease and softness of the best dialects of France, and was the first to write in that form of verse which has been so successfully used by Spenser, Shakspeare, Milton, and a host of modern poets, and which is known as the heroic couplet.

To show the form of our English tongue about five hundred years ago, we give one or two of the opening lines of the "Vision of Piers Plowman," which is a long poem, resembling much, in its general purpose, the "Pilgrim's Progress" of John Bunyan.

b

c

In a summer season,—When soft was the sun,
I shoop me into shrouds. —As I a sheep were;
In habit as an hermit-Unholy of workes,
Went wide in this world-Wonders to hear:
Acd on a May morwening-On Malvern hills,
Me befel a ferly, —Of fairy methought.

e

The following extract, taken from the opening of Chaucer's "Canterbury Tales," describes in bold colours the author's idea of a worthy country parson, and calls to mind some of Goldsmith's touches of a similar character.

a I put myself into clothes. b Shepherd. • Given to unholy doings. d. And. e Wonder.