Men’s evil manners live in brass, their virtues
We write in water. May it please your Highness
To hear me speak his good now? This Cardinal,
Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly
Was fashion’d to much honor. From his cradle
He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one;
Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and persuading;
Lofty and sour to them that lov’d him not,
But to those men that sought him, sweet as summer.
And though he were unsatisfied in getting
(Which was a sin), yet in bestowing, madam,
He was most princely: ever witness for him
Those twins of learning that he rais’d in you,
Ipswich and Oxford! one of which fell with him,
Unwilling to outlive the good that did it;
The other (though unfinish’d) yet so famous,
So excellent in art, and still so rising,
That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.
His overthrow heap’d happiness upon him;
For then, and not till then, he felt himself,
And found the blessedness of being little;
And to add greater honors to his age
Than man could give him, he died fearing God.