No More Learning

I have play'd with this poor rose so long
I have broken off the head.

LADY CLARENCE. Your Grace hath been
More merciful to many a rebel head
That should have fallen, and may rise again.

MARY. There were not many hang'd for Wyatt's rising.

LADY CLARENCE. Nay, not two hundred.

MARY. I could weep for them
And her, and mine own self and all the world.

LADY CLARENCE. For her? for whom, your Grace?

_Enter_ USHER.

USHER. The Cardinal.
_Enter_ CARDINAL POLE. (MARY _rises_. )

MARY. Reginald Pole, what news hath plagued thy heart?
What makes thy favour like the bloodless head
Fall'n on the block, and held up by the hair?
Philip? --

POLE. No, Philip is as warm in life
As ever.

MARY. Ay, and then as cold as ever.
Is Calais taken?

POLE. Cousin, there hath chanced
A sharper harm to England and to Rome,
Than Calais taken. Julius the Third
Was ever just, and mild, and father-like;
But this new Pope Caraffa, Paul the Fourth,
Not only reft me of that legateship
Which Julius gave me, and the legateship
Annex'd to Canterbury--nay, but worse--
And yet I must obey the Holy Father,
And so must you, good cousin;--worse than all,
A passing bell toll'd in a dying ear--
He hath cited me to Rome, for heresy,
Before his Inquisition.

MARY. I knew it, cousin,
But held from you all papers sent by Rome,
That you might rest among us, till the Pope,
To compass which I wrote myself to Rome,
Reversed his doom, and that you might not seem
To disobey his Holiness.