CROMWELL. No matter wherefore, Cromwell is prepared; For Gardiner has my state and life ensnared. Bid them come in, or you shall do them wrong, For here stands he, whom some thinks lives too long. Learning kills learning, and instead of Ink To dip his Pen, Cromwell’s heart blood doth drink. [Enter all the Nobles.] NORFOLK. Good morrow, Cromwell. What, alone, so sad? CROMWELL. One good among you, none of you are bad.— For my part, it best fits me be alone; Sadness with me, not I with any one. What, is the king acquainted with my cause? NORFOLK. We have, and he hath answered us, my Lord. CROMWELL. How, shall I come to speak with him my self? GARDINER. The King is so advertised of your guilt, he will by no means admit you to his presence. CROMWELL. No way admit me? am I so soon forgot? Did he but yesterday embrace my neck, And said that Cromwell was even half himself, And is his Princely ears so much bewitched With scandalous ignomy, and slanderous speeches, That now he dooth deny to look on me? Well, my Lord of Winchester, no doubt but you Are much in favour with his Majesty: Will you bear a letter from me to his grace? GARDINER. Pardon me, I’ll bear no traitor’s letters. CROMWELL. Ha! Will you do this kindness then? Tell him By word of mouth, what I shall say to you? GARDINER. That will I. CROMWELL. But, on your honour, will you? GARDINER. Aye, on my honor. CROMWELL. Bear witness, Lords.—Tell him when he hath known you, And tried your faith but half so much as mine, He’ll find you to be the falsest hearted man In England. Pray, tell him this. BEDFORD. Be patient, good my Lord, in these extremes. CROMWELL. My kind and honorable Lord of Bedford, I know your honor always loved me well; But, pardon me, this still shall be my theme; Gardiner is the cause makes Cromwell so extreme. Sir Ralph Sadler, pray, a word with you: You were my man, and all that you possess Came by my means; to requite all this, Will you take this letter here of me, And give it with your own hands to the king? SADLER. I kiss your hand, and never will I rest, Ere to the king this will be delivered. [Exit Sadler.] CROMWELL. Why yet Cromwell hath one friend in store. GARDINER. But all the haste he makes shall be but vain.— Here’s a discharge for your prisoner, To see him executed presently.— My Lord, you hear the tenor of your life. CROMWELL. I do embrace it, welcome my last date, And of this glistering world I take last leave: And, noble Lords, I take my leave of you.— As willingly I go to meet with death, As Gardiner did pronounce it with his breath: From treason is my heart as white as snow, My death only procured by my foe. I pray, commend me to my Sovereign king, And tell him in what sort his Cromwell died, To lose his head before his cause were tried: But let his Grace, when he shall hear my name, Say only this: Gardiner procured the same. [Enter young Cromwell.] LIEUTENANT. Here is your son, come to take his leave.