With a good grace.
[The Swedish Envoy assumes a radiant expression.
Cromwell [amazed.] What say you, sirs?
'Tis still a snare, but of another sort.
Cromwell [frowning.
What means this?
Filippi [bowing with a satisfied air.] Sire!
Cromwell [pointing to the crown.] Is it honest gold?
Filippi.Ah! Sire, can you doubt it?
Ah! Sire, can you doubt it?
Cromwell [to Whitelocke, aloud.] If 'tis so,
Let it be forthwith melted! I bestow
The metal on the London hospitals.
[To the stupefied Filippi.
I can to no more fitting purpose turn
These gawds, these women's gewgaws, royal toys.
I should not know what use to make of them.
Don Luis [aside.]Is he resolved, in good sooth, to remain
Protector.
Mancini [to the Duc de Créqui, in an undertone.
He might well send to Christina
A king's head in exchange.
Duc de Créqui [to Mancini, in an undertone.
'Tis even so;
That gift would the more fittingly unite