And love so soft as thine. Let us go in.
And if kind Heaven designs me longer stay
On this frail earth, I shall be only pleas'd,
Because I have thy presence here to crown me.
But if it destines my immediate end,
(Hard as it is, my queen, to part with thee)
say, farewell, and to the blow resign,
That strikes me here-to make me more divine. [Ex.
Enter CROMWELL and BRADSHAW.
IT shall be better, Bradshaw : do not think
Desert, though lowly plac'd, escapes our eye;
To me it is as precious in the valley,
As glittering on the mountain's top:
I praise myself that I have found thee out:
'Tis not my favour, Bradshaw, but thy worth
Brings thee to light; thou dost not owe me aught.
Now, Bradshaw, art thou our high president.
Thou hast a heart well temper'd to the cause:
Thou look'st on monarchy in a true light,
And where the cause is just wilt shut out pity.
Pity!
The fool's forgiveness and the mother's tear:
The indiscretion of th' unpractis'd maid,
Who through that organ hears her lover's įlaint,
And listens to her ru n.
Think not of Bradshaw thus. My soul is firm;
The melting eye and the relenting heart
Ne'er wrong'd my resolution. As to kings,
To monarchy, and to superior state,
That I disclaim'd; till your exalted merit
Alter'd my purpose in my own despite,
And, when I meant to level, rais'd you high.
Crom. Spoke in a hearty zeal for our good cause.
That I have the same thoughts of thee, let this,
Thy present weighty office, speak, which should,
If Cromwell's nature bent to partiality,
Have fallen upon my kinsman, Ireton; one
Of good regard, and hearty in the service:
But Cromwell's heart points only to desert,
The north of all his purpose. Thou art ours;
And though thy modesty at first declin'd
To sit our head, and lead our counsels right,
Yet I determin'd not to lose thy worth,
If importunity could win it.
I own I thought myself unequal to it;
Nor am I yet convinc'd: yet what I want in merit,
I will make out in rigour on the King,
In justice to the people and to Heaven.
Crom. Bradshaw,
Thou art the very sinew of our cause;
The spirit of design and warmth of zeal
Glow in thy purpose. I adore that man,
Who, once resolv'd, outflies e'en expedition.
Thou art the glory of our brotherhood!
And spare not to reproach, to taunt and blacken,
T' insult their party; nay, the king himself;
Mindful that all his dignity is lost,
And he, for monstrous crime, brought forth to justice.
Seek an occasion too to talk with Fairfax,
And urge to him the strong necessity
Of the king's death-Perhaps he may prove angry-
But do not thou regard it. The time presses;
And thou hast liv'd too long to squander that.
Brad. Good sir, farewell! my love would offer more,
But my haste wrongs it.
Crom. Go to, Bradshaw.
Such are the tools with which the wise must work:
And yet he too is wise, and might cajole
A weaker than himself, and does.
He is my proper instrument
To operate on those below my notice.
Thus by comparison are all things known;
And by such under-steps as him, and lower,
Do the ambitious mount to fame and honour.
Besides, I choose me those whom zeal infiames,
Who failing to convince you, will compel :
Such, prompted by enthusiasmn's force,
And in predestination's armour cas'd,
Will to the mouth of danger plant their breasts,
And out-fight phrensy and despair. But lo!
Where Ireton comes!
My trusty friend,
What look wears our design?
Ire. Such as a bride,
The morning after bliss; she smiles upon us,
And laughs at what she fear'd. Petitions call
For justice on the king-Our faction thrives;
Murmur increases to a public outcry.
All are 'gainst Charles, save a few pitying hearts,
Who melt with Fairfax, and incline to mercy.
Crom. 'Tis well. Send post unto the army, Ireton, And let those sums of money I have order'd Be secretly dispers'd among the soldiers; It will remind them of their promises:
Gold is specific for the memory.
O gold wer 't not for thee, what great design,
What bold ambition, that outstretches justice,
Could have success? Thou buy'st our very prayers:
Thou art the heart of opposition,
And the tooth of faction. Wer 't not for thy aid,
Success would vary like the uncertain wind,
And honesty might prosper! Hie thee, Ireton;
I must to the king; I have some bills to offer him,
Which, for the life of Charles, Charles would not sign;
And his refusal turns to our advantage.
Thou shalt know more hereafter-Now dispatch.
Ire. Good sir, I fly.
Crom. Ha! whom have we yonder?
Of 'tis the wife of Fairfax: once as hearty,
As zealous for the cause, as Cromwell's self,
And wrought her lord to think so. Now, O womau,
Such is thy varying nature, that the waves
Are not more fluctuating than thy opinions,
Nor sooner are displac'd. To her is owing
The wayward pity of her vassal lord.
Oh, 'tis certain danger to have such a woman,
Who, when man leaves himself to toy with her,
Knows how to win, and practise on his weakness.
But let me think-All women may be won.
The dame of Ephesus, the Anne of Richard,
Show us a woman's grief and resolution.
Why may not she be wrought up to my purpose?
I can appproach in what they like, in flattery.
Lady Fair. Stay, worthy Cromwell, and attend my
Hear me and may thy answer be propitious,
As this kind hour that favours my address!
O may my falling tears, that plead for mercy,
Drop on thy heart, and melt it to compliance,
Nor disregard the suit because a woman's!
Cromwell is noble; and the noble soul
Grants the most free indulgence to the weak,
Because its generous nature pleads their cause.
Crom Such is a woman's weakness, that she thinks
T'impose on us by what allures herself:
But i must turn this project upon her,
And fairly put it to an equal proof,
Who best dissembles, Cromwell-or a woman. [Aside.
Lady, I must esteem a compliment,
When from a tongue that seldom errs that way.
From what I know, and what I oft have heard,
You can dress praise like truth: that praise I mean,
Which, from our liking to the theme we speak of,
Sells to extravagance (though still our thoughts)
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