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.