NORFOLK. Hear the King's pleasure, Cardinal, who commands you
To render up the great seal presently
Into our hands, and to confine yourself
To Asher House, my Lord of Winchester's,
Till you hear further from his Highness.
WOLSEY. Stay:
Where's your commission, lords? Words cannot carry
Authority so weighty.
SUFFOLK. Who dares cross 'em,
Bearing the King's will from his mouth expressly?
WOLSEY. Till I find more than will or words to do it-
I mean your malice-know, officious lords,
I dare and must deny it. Now I feel
Of what coarse metal ye are moulded-envy;
How eagerly ye follow my disgraces,
As if it fed ye; and how sleek and wanton
Ye appear in every thing may bring my ruin!
Follow your envious courses, men of malice;
You have Christian warrant for 'em, and no doubt
In
