Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Card. Let's dry our eyes: And thus farre heare me Cromwel,
Card. And when I am forgotten, as I shall be,
Card. And sleepe in dull cold Marble, where no mention
Card. Of me, more must be heard of: Say I taught thee,
Card. Say Wolsey, that once trod the wayes of Glory,
Card. And sounded all the Depths, and Shoales of Honor,
Card. Found thee a way (out of his wracke) to rise in:
Card. A sure, and safe one, though thy Master mist it.
Card. Marke but my Fall, and that that Ruin'd me:
Card. Cromwel, I charge thee, fling away Ambition,
Card. By that sinne fell the Angels: how can man then
Card. (The Image of his Maker) hope to win by it?
Card. Loue thy selfe last, cherish those hearts that hate thee;
Card. Corruption wins not more then Honesty.
Card. Still in thy right hand, carry gentle Peace
Card. To silence enuious Tongues. Be iust, and feare not;
Card. Let all the ends thou aym'st at, be thy Countries,
Card. Thy Gods, and Truths. Then if thou fall'st (O Cromwell)
Card. Thou fall'st a blessed Martyr.
Card. Serue the King: And prythee leade me in: