The Last Breaths: Cromwell’s Helplessness in the Face of Death
Plot Beats
The narrative micro-steps within this event
Johane and Mercy desperately try to revive Anne and Grace, who are weakened with sweat and barely conscious, resorting to physical methods like slapping. Cromwell, witnessing this, takes Anne's hand and watches the struggle.
Cromwell pleads with Johane and Mercy to stop their attempts to revive his daughters.
Exhausted, Johane and Mercy cease their efforts; Mercy cries, and Cromwell watches as his daughters' breathing fades, holding Anne's hand.
Who Was There
Characters present in this moment
Grace is beyond fear or pain, her body already surrendering to death. Her stillness is a contrast to Anne’s faint struggle, making her passing seem almost serene. The angel wings, once a source of joy, now highlight the tragedy of her early death, a life cut short before it could fully unfold.
Grace lies motionless, her body already still, her breathing shallow and fading. She wears peacock-feather angel wings, a stark contrast to the grim reality of her death. Johane and Mercy’s desperate attempts to revive her are futile; her body does not respond. Cromwell watches as her chest rises and falls in ever-shallower gasps, her life slipping away without struggle or protest. The angel wings, once a symbol of her childhood joy, now serve as a poignant reminder of the innocence lost.
- • To find peace in the transition from life to death, though her body is too young to understand the finality of the moment.
- • To be remembered as the innocent child she was, her life a fleeting but bright presence in her family’s world.
- • That her father’s love will follow her even into death, providing comfort in her final moments.
- • That her death is a part of a larger, incomprehensible plan—one she cannot question but must accept.
A raw, primal grief mixed with exhaustion. Her actions are those of a woman who has fought a losing battle but cannot bring herself to accept defeat. The moment Cromwell stops her, she is left hollow, her body still poised for action but her spirit broken.
Johane, exhausted and frantic, is locked in a desperate, almost violent struggle to revive Anne and Grace. She slaps and pummels their limp bodies, her actions driven by a mix of maternal instinct and sheer panic. When Cromwell intervenes, she stops abruptly, her body trembling with exertion and grief. She stands breathing hard, her hands still clenched as if ready to resume the futile battle, but her energy is spent—both physically and emotionally.
- • To revive Anne and Grace at any cost, even if it means resorting to brutal, physical measures.
- • To prove to herself—and perhaps to Cromwell—that she has done everything possible to save the girls, despite the hopelessness of the situation.
- • That her actions, no matter how extreme, might somehow cheat death and restore the girls to life.
- • That Cromwell’s absence has left her as the sole defender of the household, and thus the burden of saving the girls falls entirely on her.
Overwhelmed by grief and guilt, Mercy’s actions are those of someone who has exhausted every option but cannot accept the outcome. Her tears are not just for the girls but for her own powerlessness in the face of their suffering. Turning away is an admission of defeat, a moment where she can no longer bear witness to the tragedy unfolding.
Mercy, working alongside Johane, is equally frantic in her attempts to revive Anne and Grace. She mirrors Johane’s actions—slapping and pummeling the girls’ bodies—her movements driven by the same desperate hope. When Cromwell intervenes, she stops abruptly, her body wracked with sobs. She turns away, unable to bear the sight of the girls’ fading breaths, her hands covering her face as she cries.
- • To save Anne and Grace through any means necessary, even if it means resorting to physical desperation.
- • To honor her role as a caretaker in the Cromwell household, even as she recognizes the futility of her efforts.
- • That her devotion to the Cromwell family demands she fight for the girls’ lives until the very end.
- • That Cromwell’s absence has left her and Johane as the only ones capable of intervening, and thus she bears a heavy responsibility for their fate.
Devastated and unmoored, his usual strategic composure shattered by the raw, unrelenting grief of watching his children die. The whisper—‘Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.’—reveals a man stripped of his usual control, reduced to a plea against an unstoppable force.
Cromwell arrives to find Johane and Mercy violently attempting to revive his dying daughters. He watches in horror as they pummel Anne and Grace, their bodies slick with sweat and barely responsive. His initial paralysis gives way to a weak, futile attempt to stop them by pawing at Johane’s arms. When they finally cease, he sits beside Anne, holding her hand as her breathing fades, his voice reduced to a broken whisper—‘Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.’—a plea that underscores his helplessness and the irreversible loss unfolding before him.
- • To somehow halt the inevitable death of his daughters, even as he recognizes the futility of his efforts.
- • To assert some semblance of control or protection over his family, though his actions are reduced to a feeble, physical intervention.
- • That his influence and cunning, which have served him so well in the political arena, are useless in the face of death.
- • That his absence from the household—his focus on Wolsey and courtly maneuvering—has indirectly contributed to this tragedy, deepening his guilt.
Beyond fear or pain, Anne is in the throes of death, her body and mind detached from the world. Her weak, clenching hands are the last vestiges of her struggle, a final, instinctive grasp at life before surrendering to the inevitable. The angel wings, once a playful accessory, now underscore the tragedy of her untimely end.
Anne lies dying, her body slick with sweat and barely responsive. Her hands clench and unclench weakly, a final, instinctive struggle for life. She is barely conscious, her breathing shallow and fading. Cromwell holds her hand as her life slips away, her body growing still beneath his touch. The peacock-feather angel wings she wears—once a symbol of childhood innocence—now serve as a cruel irony against the grim reality of her death.
- • To hold onto life, though her body is failing her.
- • To find comfort in her father’s presence, even as she slips away.
- • That her father’s love and presence might somehow anchor her to the world, even as she dies.
- • That her death is a betrayal of the future she imagined for herself—one filled with learning and ambition.
Location Details
Places and their significance in this event
The girls’ bedroom is a claustrophobic, suffocating space where the air is thick with the metallic tang of sweat and the desperate rhythm of fading breaths. The intimacy of the setting—once a sanctuary of childhood and domestic warmth—has been twisted into a chamber of death and helplessness. The frantic activity of Johane and Mercy as they pummel the girls’ bodies fills the room with a grotesque energy, while Cromwell’s arrival and eventual surrender to grief add a layer of devastating stillness. The bedroom, with its cramped quarters and fading light, becomes a metaphor for the collapse of Cromwell’s carefully constructed world, a place where his power and influence mean nothing in the face of death.
The girls’ bedroom is a suffocating, intimate space filled with the heavy air of death and despair. The room is small and close, its walls seeming to press in on the frantic activity unfolding within. The atmosphere is thick with the sweat and labored breathing of the dying girls, as well as the desperation of Johane and Mercy’s futile attempts to revive them. The bedroom is not just a physical space but a metaphor for the confinement and helplessness of the family in the face of the sweating sickness. It is a place of last breaths and irreversible loss, where the personal world of Thomas Cromwell is shattered beyond repair.
Narrative Connections
How this event relates to others in the story
"Their deaths lead to."
"Their deaths lead to."
"Their deaths lead to."
Part of Larger Arcs
Key Dialogue
"THOMAS CROMWELL ((Mumbling)) Don’t. (Beat) Don’t. Don’t."
"{speaker: Mercy, dialogue: (turns away, crying), context: Mercy’s silent breakdown underscores the futility of their efforts and the depth of the household’s collective grief. Her inability to speak—only to weep—highlights the suffocating weight of the moment, where words fail and only raw emotion remains.}"