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The Complete Works of William Shakespeare - Israel Gollancz William Shakespeare [1923]

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are the Dukes of Suffolk and of Norfolk,

Winchester, Bedford, and sir Richard Ratcliffe,

With others, but why they come I know not.

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.

CROMWELL.

To take his leave! Come hither, Harry Cromwell.

Mark, boy, the last words that I speak to thee.

Flatter not Fortune, neither fawn upon her;

Gape not for state, yet lose no spark of honor;

Ambition, like the plague see thou eschew it;

I die for treason, boy, and never knew it.

Yet let thy faith as spotless be as mine,

And Cromwell's virtues in thy face shall shine.

Come, go along and see me leave my breath,

And I'll leave thee upon the flower of death.

SON.

O, father, I shall die to see that wound;

Your blood being spilt will make my heart to sound.

CROMWELL.

How, boy, not look upon the Axe!

How shall I do then to have my head stroke off?

Come on, my child, and see the end of all,

And after say that Gardiner was my fall.

GARDINER.

My Lord, you speak it of an envious heart;

I have done no more than law and equity.

BEDFORD.

O, good my Lord of Winchester, forbear;

It would a better seemed you to

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