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Explore this palace with most heedful care.
I am not wonted to its labyrinths.
Ay, in this Whitehall vast I lose myself,
And in a royal chair I'm ill at ease!
Cromwell.Your rise in fortune you cannot endure!
Your daily lamentations—
Elizabeth. Your daily lamentations—Well I know
That they annoy you, but I would prefer
Our Cockpit to this palace of a king;
[To Mistress Fleetwood.] And more than all, is it not so, my child,—
Our family estate in Huntingdon!
[To Cromwell.] Oh! those were happy times! What joy it was
To rise at daybreak, visit poultry-yard
And park and orchard, watch the children play
And gambol gaily in the fields; and then
To go together to the brewery!
Cromwell.My lady!
Elizabeth. My lady! Happy days! when Cromwell was
Of no account, when I was all at ease
And slept so well!
Cromwell. And slept so well! Put off these vulgar tastes.
Elizabeth.Why put them off? for I was born to them.
Was I in childhood to such grandeur doomed?
My life does not to th' atmosphere of courts
Adapt itself, and in these trailing gowns
My feet become entangled. Yesterday,
At the Lord Mayor's banquet, I was hipped.
A wondrous pleasure, in good sooth, to dine
With London, tête-à-tête! Why you yourself
Seemed monstrous bored.—Ah me! in the old days,
We supped so gaily by our own fireside!
Cromwell.My new rank—