Such warmth is virtue's fault; and such, I hope,
May be your kind excuse for praising me.

Lady Fair. Talk not of praise, good sir, your merit shames it,

When from a woman's mouth.

Crom. Well turn'd again.

[Aside.

O lady, were I but to speak my thoughts
Of you, and your brave lord, you would conclude
'Twere praise indeed-for virtue looks within
For her faults only, not for her perfections.
Hear some of those: you once espous`d our canse,
E'en with persuasion's warmth; and well you sued.
We have not, sure, o'erlook'd desert so far,

To merit opposition!

The state is busy-but the time will come
When her best office shall be pleasing you.

Lady Fair. You mock me, sir; I do not wish that time,
Vain as you think my sex. I came to say-

Crom. E'en to that purpose, to the life of Charles.
It cannot be, the people cry for justice :

Would I could stop its course! But, gentle lady,
Think it more wise to fly a falling pile,

Than strive to prop its ruin. Charles must die.
Lady Fair. O gracious Cromwell!

Crom. Nay, but hear me on.

Why will you thus employ your eloquence,
Which our whole council would with liking hear,
To help impossibilities? Good lady,

Rather employ it (and you know the way)
To teach your lord to value rising fortune,
And make his fame.

Lady Fair. As black as yours will be.

Shame on thy dark designs, and the whole cause,

If only such a deed can make it prosper!

Be the heart bloodless that conceives the act,
The tongue accurst that dares avow the purpose,
And the hand blasted that obeys the order!
May his life here be all the hell we think of,
Yet find a greater in the other world!

[Exit.

Crom. How wayward and perverse a thing is woman!

How much unlike the softness we expect,
When rage and trifles vex them! In the heat
And the full vigour of their first enjoyment,
Distrust succeeds their love; and he who pleases,
Is hunted by their jealousy to hate.—
Fairfax and Bradshaw earnest in dispute !

I will not interrupt them, but to Charles.

Enter FAIRFAX and BRADSHAW.

[Exit.

Brad. Why all this heat, my lord-because I said That Charles deserves to die? Why, I repeat it: And would you master this unmanly rage,

I might to reason prove it, but not phrensy.

Fair. Well, I am calm-speak out your bloody purpose,

What hell devises, and what Bradshaw thinks.

Brad. Cast your eye backward then, and let us view E'en the beginning of this Charles's reign: In the first year a raging plague destroy'us, And was prophetic of our woes to come: Did it not sweep whole multitudes away

Fast as the sword, which Charles has since unsheath'd? "Did he not follow still his father's steps,

"Retain his ministry, pursue his aims ?

"Would he, tho' pray'd and threaten'd by the parliament,

"Give up those men whose counsels had misled him? "And is not that prince weak-to say no more "Who from a general outcry guards the man "Whose bold ambition strikes at liberty, "At native freedom, and the subjects' right?” Fair. You but this moment blam'd my warmth, And art thyself transported.

Brad. Grant I be:

'Tis in the cause that liberty approves,
And every honest Englishman must own it:
But to proceed-Those men he still held fast,
Or parted with them, as the heart drops blood:
"Witness the Earl of Strafford :" tax'd the land
By grievous impositions; levy'd war

Against the commons, and the kingdom's peace.
But I forget me that I speak to Fairfax,
Who has so often fought against his arms,
And taught success to know the cause of right.
Fair. I fought for reparation of our wrongs-
But cannot think that it consists in murder.
I would not have him die.

Brad. By the good cause,

It does portend some more than common change, When generals plead for mercy! Shame it hence, And let your visage wear the glow of rage;

E

Let Prynn's undaunted soul inform thy breast,
And drive weak pity thence.

Fair. I'll hear no more:

Thy servile tongue may spare its hireling office,

It roots my purpose firmer: in thy speech
I read design, tho' oratory's flowers
Strive to conceal the rancour of the heart.
O el quence! thou violated fair,

How art thou woo'd, and won to either bed

Of right or wrong! O, when injustice folds thee,
Dost thou not curse thy charms for pleasing him,
And blush at conquest? But the juncture calls;
Nor will I leave one moment unemploy'd,

Till the king's safety be confirm❜d.

Brad 'Tis well.

I must to other folk, here time is lost.

[Exit.

This man has stepp'd into the stream of mischief,
Just like the boy, who tries the water's cold,

And shrinking pulls his foot to land : men, like me,
Plunge boldly in, and weather to their point.

[Exit.

SCENE II.

The KING's Apartment. Enter KING and Bishop

JUXON.

Juxon. Why does your highness seem so lost in Thought?

Consider not so deeply, good my lord.

King. The purport of my dream this afternoon

Has set this visage on. I'll tell thee, Juxon-
Finding my spirits faint, I laid me down,
And courted sleep to ease me; to my wish
It quickly seiz'd my eye-lids, and methought
(So fancy painted) former times return'd,
Grandeur encircled me, and regal state;
'My people's love flew round about my throne,
On acclamation's wing; 't was glory all,

And such a reign as Charles has pray'd for. Homage,
The bond of friendship, and the oath of trust,
Were all before me: straight the pleasing scene,
Quick as the fearful eye can wink, was chang'd;
And in its room, a vast and dreary plain,
Comfortless, wild, without inhabitant,
Stretch'd out a dismal length that tir'd the eye;
I was about to go—when kind adversity
Pull'd me behind, and, as I turn'd around,
Show'd me where innocence stood weeping by;
He whisper'd in my ear, that she alone

Of all my boasting friends had staid with me.
The thought struck deep; Iwak'd, and, good my lord,
I found my weeping queen within my arms.

Enter CROMWELL.

Crom. If I disturb you, sir, I ask your pardon: Necessity will sometimes be importunate,

And outgo compliment.

King. Your business, sir?

Crom. Know then, whatever may be thought of
Cromwell,