Bed.
My soul is like a water troubled;
And Gardiner is the man that makes it so.
O Cromwell, I do fear thy 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 near's his day of doom. Enter Cromwell, with his train. Bedford makes as though he would speak to him. Cromwell goes on.

Crom.
You're well encounter'd, my good lord of Bedford.
I see your honour is address'd to talk* ^note.
Pray pardon me; I am sent for to the king,
And do not know the business yet myself:
So fare you well, for I must needs be gone. [Exit Cromwell, &c.

Bed.
You must; well, what remedy?
I fear too soon you must be gone indeed.
The king hath business; but little dost thou know,
Who's busy for thy life; thou think'st not so. Re-enter Cromwell, attended.

Crom.
The second time well met my lord of Bedford:
I am very sorry that my haste is such.
Lord marquis Dorset being sick to death,
I must receive of him the privy-seal.
At Lambeth soon, my lord, we'll talk our fill. [Exit.

Bed.
How smooth and easy is the way to death* ^note

Mes.
My lord, the dukes of Norfolk and of Suffolk,
Accompanied with the bishop of Winchester,
Entreat you to come presently to Lambeth,
On earnest matters that concern the state.

Bed.
To Lambeth! so: go fetch me pen and ink;
I and lord Cromwell there shall talk enough:
Ay, and our last, I fear, an if he come. [Writes.
Here, take this letter^{7 note}, and bear it to lord Cromwell;
Bid him read it; say it concerns him near:
Away, be gone, make all the haste you can.
To Lambeth do I go a woeful man. [Exeunt. SCENE II. A street near the Thames. Enter Cromwell, attended.

Crom.
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. Enter Messenger.
How now my friend, wouldest thou speak with me?

Mes.
Sir, here's a letter from my lord of Bedford. [Gives him a letter. Cromwell puts it in his pocket.

Crom.
O good my friend, commend me to thy lord:
Hold, take those angels; drink them for thy pains.

Mes.
He doth desire your grace to read it
Because he says it doth concern you near.

Crom.
Bid him assure himself of that. Farewel.
To-morrow, tell him, he shall hear from me.
Set on before there, and away to Lambeth. [Exeunt. SCENE III. Lambeth. Enter Gardiner, Suffolk, Norfolk, Bedford, Lieutenant of the Tower, a Serjeant at Arms, a Herald, and Halberts.

Gard.
Halberts, stand close unto the water-side;
Serjeant at arms, be you bold in your office;
Herald, deliver your proclamation. Her.

This is to give notice to all the king's subjects, the late lord Cromwell, lord chancellor of England, vicar-general over the realm, him to hold and esteem as a traitor against the crown and dignity of England. So God save the king.

Gard.

Amen.

Bed.
Amen, and root thee from the land!
For whilst thou livest, the truth cannot stand.

Nor.
Make a lane there, the traitor is at hand.
Keep back Cromwell's men; drown them, if they come on.
Serjeant, your office. Enter Cromwell, attended. The halbert-men make a lane.

Crom.
What means my lord of Norfolk, by these words?
Sirs, come along.

Gard.
Kill them, if they come on.

Ser.
Lord Thomas Cromwell, in king Henry's name,
I do arrest your honour of high treason.

Crom.
Serjeant, me of treason? [Cromwell's attendants offer to draw.

Suf.
Kill them, if they draw a sword.

Crom.
Hold; I charge you, as you love me, draw not a sword.
Who dares accuse Cromwell of treason now?

Gard.
This is no place to reckon up your crime;
Your dove-like looks were view'd with serpents' eyes.

Crom.
With serpents' eyes indeed, by thine they were.
But, Gardiner, do thy worst; I fear thee not.
My faith compar'd with thine, as much shall pass
As doth the diamond excell the glass.
Attach'd of treason, no accusers by!
Indeed what tongue dares speak so foul a lie?

Nor.
My lord, my lord, matters are too well known;
And it is time the king had note thereof.

Crom.
The king! let me go to him face to face;
No better trial I desire than that.
Let him but say, that Cromwell's faith was feign'd,
Then let my honour and my name be stain'd.
If e'er my heart against the king was set,
O let my soul in judgment answer it!
Then if my faith's confirmed with his reason,
'Gainst whom hath Cromwell then committed treason?

Suf.
My lord, my lord, your matter shall be tried;
Mean time with patience content yourself.

Crom.
Perforce I must with patience be content:—
O dear friend Bedford, dost thou stand so near?
Cromwell rejoyceth one friend sheds a tear.
And whither is't? Which way must Cromwell now?

Gard.
My lord, you must unto the Tower. Lieutenant,
Take him unto your charge.

Crom.
Well, where you please: but yet before I part,
Let me confer a little with my men.

Gard.
Ay, as you go by water, so you shall.

Crom.
I have some business present to impart.

Nor.
You may not stay: lieutenant, take your charge.

Crom.
Well, well, my lord, you second Gardiner's text.
Norfolk, farewel! thy turn will be the next. [Exeunt Cromwell and Lieutenant.

Gard.
His guilty conscience makes him rave, my lord.

Nor.
Ay, let him talk; his time is short enough.

Gard.
My lord of Bedford, come; you weep for him
That would not shed even half a tear for you.

Bed.
It grieves me for to see his sudden fall.

Gard.
Such success wish I unto traitors all. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. London. A street. Enter two Citizens.

1 Cit.
Why, can this news be true? is't possible?
The great lord Cromwell arrested upon treason?
I hardly will believe it can be so.

2 Cit.
It is too true, sir. Would it were otherwise,
Condition I spent half the wealth I have!
I was at Lambeth, saw him there arrested,
And afterward committed to the Tower.

1 Cit.
What, was't for treason that he was committed?

2 Cit.
Kind, noble gentleman! I may rue the time:
All that I have, I did enjoy by him;
And if he die, then all my state is gone.

1 Cit.
It may be hoped that he shall not die,
Because the king did favour him so much.

2 Cit.
O sir, you are deceiv'd in thinking so:
The grace and favour he had with the king,
Hath caus'd him have so many enemies.
He that in court secure will keep himself,
Must not be great, for then he is envied at.
The shrub is safe, when as the cedar shakes;
For where the king doth love above compare,
Of others they as much more envied are.

1 Cit.
'Tis pity that this nobleman should fall,
He did so many charitable deeds.

2 Cit.
'Tis true; and yet you see in each estate
There's none so good, but some one doth him hate;
And they before would smile him in the face,
Will be the foremost to do him disgrace.
What, will you go along unto the court?

1 Cit.
I care not if I do, and hear the news,
How men will judge what shall become of him.

2 Cit.
Some will speak hardly, some will speak in pity.
Go you to the court; I'll go into the city;
There I am sure to hear more news than you.

1 Cit.
Why then soon will we meet again: adieu^{8 note}! [Exeunt.

SCENE V. A room in the Tower. Enter Cromwell.

Crom.
Now, Cromwell, hast thou time to meditate,
And think upon thy state, and of the time.
Thy honours came unsought, ay, and unlook'd for;
Thy fall as sudden, and unlook'd for too.
What glory was in England that had I not?
Who in this land commanded more than Cromwell?
Except the king, who greater than myself?
But now I see what after ages shall;
The greater men, more sudden is their fall.
And now I do remember, the earl of Bedford
Was very desirous for to speak to me;
And afterward sent unto me a letter,
The which I think I still have in my pocket,
Now may I read it, for I now have leisure;
And this I take it is. [Reads.
  My lord, come not this night to Lambeth,
  For if you do, your state is overthrown;
  And much I doubt your life, an if you come:
  Then if you love yourself, stay where you are.
O God, O God! had I but read this letter,
Then had I been free from the lion's paw:
Deferring this to read until to-morrow,
I spurn'd at joy, and did embrace my sorrow. Enter Lieutenant of the Tower, Officers, &c.
Now, master lieutenant, when's this day of death?

Lieu.
Alas, my lord, would I might never see it!
Here are the dukes of Suffolk and of Norfolk,
Winchester, Bedford, and sir Richard Radcliff,
With others; but why they come I know not.

Crom.
No matter wherefore. Cromwell is prepar'd,
For Gardiner has my life and state ensnar'd.
Bid them come in, or you shall do them wrong,
For here stands he who some think lives too long.
Learning kills learning, and, instead of ink
To dip his pen, Cromwell's heart-blood doth drink. Enter the dukes of Suffolk and Norfolk; the earl of Bedford, Gardiner bishop of Winchester, sir Richard Radcliff, and sir Ralph Sadler.

Nor.
Good morrow, Cromwell. What, alone so sad?

Crom.
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?

Nor.
He is; and he hath answer'd us my lord.

Crom.
How shall I come to speak with him myself?

Gard.
The king is so advertis'd of your guilt,
He'll by no means admit you to his presence.

Crom.
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 are his princely ears so much bewitch'd
With scandalous ignomy^{9 note}, and slanderous speeches,
That now he doth 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?

Gard.
Pardon me; I will bear no traitor's letters.

Crom.
Ha!—Will you do this kindness then? Tell him
By word of mouth what I shall say to you?

Gard.
That will I.

Crom.
But, on your honour will you?

Gard.
Ay, on my honour.

Crom.
Bear witness, lords. Tell him, when he hath known you,
And try'd your faith but half so much as mine,
He'll find you to be the falsest-hearted man
In England: pray, tell him this.

Bed.
Be patient, good my lord, in these extremes.

Crom.
My kind and honourable lord of Bedford,
I know your honour always lov'd me well:
But, pardon me, this still shall be my theme;
Gardiner's the cause makes Cromwell so extreme.
Sir Ralph Sadler, I pray a word with you;
You were my man, and all that you possess
Came by my means: sir, to requite all this,
Say will you take this letter here of me,
And give it with your own hands to the king?

Sad.
I kiss your hand, and never will I rest
Ere to the king this be delivered. [Exit Sadler.

Crom.
Why then yet Cromwell hath one friend in store.

Gard.
But all the haste he makes shall be but vain.
Here is a discharge for your prisoner,
To see him executed presently: [To the lieutenant.
My lord, you hear the tenure of your life^{1 note}.

Crom.
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 procured only by my foe.

I pray commend me to my sovereign king,
And tell him in what sort his Cromwell dy'd,
To lose his head before his cause was try'd^{2 note};
But let his grace, when he shall hear my name,
Say only this; Gardiner procur'd the same. Enter young Cromwell.

Lieu.
Here is your son, sir, come to take his leave.

Crom.
To take his leave? Come hither, Harry Cromwell.
Mark, boy, the last words that I speak to thee^{3 note}:
Flatter not Fortune, neither fawn upon her;
Gape not for state, yet lose no spark of honour;
Ambition, like the plague, see thou eschew it^{4 note};
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 floor of death* ^note.

Son.
O father, I shall die to see that wound,
Your blood being spilt will make my heart to swound.

Crom.
How, boy! not dare to look upon the axe?
How shall I do then to have my head struck off?

Come on, my child, and see the end of all;
And after say, that Gardiner was my fall.

Gard.
My lord you speak it of an envious heart;
I have done no more than law and equity.

Bed.
O, my good lord of Winchester, forbear:
It would have better seem'd you to have been absent,
Than with your words disturb a dying man^{5 note}
.

Crom.
Who me, my lord? no: he disturbs not me.
My mind he stirs not, though his mighty shock
Hath brought more peers' heads down unto the block.
Farewel, my boy! all Cromwell can bequeath,—
My hearty blessing:—so I take my leave.

Exec.
I am your death's-man; pray my lord forgive me.

Crom.
Even with my soul. Why man, thou art my doctor,
And bring'st me precious physick for my soul.
My lord of Bedford, I desire of you
Before my death a corporal embrace.
Farewel, great lord; my love I do commend,
My heart to you; my soul to heaven I send.
This is my joy, that ere my body fleet,
Your honour'd arms are my true winding-sheet.
Farewel, dear Bedford; my peace is made in heaven.
Thus falls great Cromwell, a poor ell in length,
To rise to unmeasur'd height, wing'd with new strength,
The land of worms, which dying men discover* ^note
:
My soul is shrin'd with heaven's celestial cover. [Exeunt Cromwell, Officers, &c.

Bed.
Well, farewel Cromwell! sure the truest friend
That ever Bedford shall possess again.
Well, lords, I fear that when this man is dead,
You'll wish in vain that Cromwell had a head. Enter an Officer with Cromwell's head.

Offi.
Here is the head of the deceased Cromwell.

Bed.
Pray thee go hence, and bear his head away
Unto his body; interr them both in clay. [Exit Officer. Enter sir Ralph Sadler.

Sad.
How now my lords? What, is lord Cromwell dead?

Bed.
Lord Cromwell's body now doth want a head.

Sad.
O God, a little speed had sav'd his life.
Here is a kind reprieve come from the king,
To bring him straight unto his majesty^{6 note}.

Suf.
Ay, ay, sir Ralph, reprieves come now too late.

Gard.
My conscience now tells me this deed was ill^{7 note}

.
Would Christ that Cromwell were alive again!

Nor.
Come let us to the king, who, well I know,
Will grieve for Cromwell, that his death was so⁸. [Exeunt omnes. ⁸

On the fall of this nobleman many satirical ballads were composed by the party who were adverse to him, one of which may be found in the Reliques of Anc. Poetry, vol. II. p. 64.

To vindicate Shakspeare from having written a single line of this piece would be a waste of time. The poverty of the language, the barenness of incident, and the inartificial conduct of every part of the performance, place it rather perhaps below the compositions of even the second-rate dramatick authors of the age in which it was produced. Dr. Farmer thinks it was written by Thomas Heywood. That poet, according to his own account, having had “either an entire hand or at least a main finger in two hundred and twenty plays,” it is extremely probable that many of his compositions (of which he appears to have taken little care) were printed either without a name, or, as in the present instance, with initial letters calculated to deceive. Malone.

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