GARDINER. Along, my Lords.—Well, Cromwell is half dead; He shaked my heart, but I will shave his head. [Exeunt.] ACT V. SCENE I. A street in London. [Enter Bedford solus.] BEDFORD. My soul is like a water troubled, And Gardiner is the man that makes it so. O, Cromwell, I do fear they end is near: Yet I’ll prevent their malice if I can. And in good time, see where the man doth come, Who little knows how nears his day of doom. [Enter Cromwell with his train. Bedford makes as though he would speak to him: he goes on.] CROMWELL. You’re well encountered, my good Lord of Bedford. I see your honour is addressed to talk; Pray pardon me, I am sent for to the king, And do not know the business yet my self. So fare you well, for I must needs be gone. [Exit all the train.] BEDFORD. You must; well, what remedy? I fear too soon you must be gone indeed. The king hath business, but little doest thou know, Whose busy for thy life: thou thinks not so. [Enter Cromwell and the train again.] CROMWELL. The second time well met, my Lord of Bedford; I am very sorry that my haste is such. Lord Marquess Dorset being sick to death, I must receive of him the privy seal. At Lambeth, soon, my Lord, we’ll talk our fill. [Exit the train.] BEDFORD. How smooth and easy is the way to death! [Enter a servant.] MESSENGER. My Lord, the dukes of Norfolk and of Suffolk, Accompanied with the Bishop of Winchester, Entreats you to come presently to Lambeth, On earnest matters that concerns the state. BEDFORD. To Lambeth! so: go fetch me pen and ink. I and Lord Cromwell there shall talk enough; Aye, and our last, I fear, and if he come. [He writes a letter.] Here, take this letter, and bear it to Lord Cromwell. Bid him read it; say it concerns him near: Away, begone, make all the haste you can. To Lambeth do I go a woeful man. [Exit.] ACT V. SCENE II. A street near the Thames. [Enter Cromwell and his train.] CROMWELL. Is the Barge ready? I will straight to Lambeth, And if this one day’s business once were past, I’d take my ease to morrow after trouble.— How now, my friend, wouldst thou speak with me? [The Messenger brings him the letter; he puts it in his pocket.] MESSENGER. Sir, here’s a letter from my Lord of Bedford. CROMWELL. O good, my friend, commend me to thy Lord. Hold, take those Angels; drink them for thy pains. MESSENGER. He doth desire your grace to read it, Because he says it doth concern you near. CROMWELL. Bid him assure himself of that. Farewell. To morrow, tell him, shall he hear from me.— Set on before there, and away to Lambeth. [Exeunt omnes.] ACT V. SCENE III. Lambeth. [Enter Winchester, Suffolk, Norfolk, Bedford, Sargeant at arms, the Herald, and halberts.] GARDINER. Halberts, stand close unto the waterside; Sargeant at arms, be bold in your office; Herald, deliver your proclamation.