Wolsey Monologue from Henry VIII

From Henry VIII by William Shakespeare

male · contemplative · 53 sec

My sovereign, I confess your royal graces, Showered on me daily, have been more than could My studied purposes requite, which went Beyond all man’s endeavours. My endeavours Have ever come too short of my desires, Yet filed with my abilities. Mine own ends Have been mine so that evermore they pointed To th’ good of your most sacred person and The profit of the state. For your great graces Heaped upon me, poor undeserver, I Can nothing render but allegiant thanks, My prayers to heaven for you, my loyalty, Which ever has and ever shall be growing, Till death, that winter, kill it.

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