On Dabir, King of Edom—
[He spies his son.] Ah!
[To Rochester.] Begone!
Rochester [aside.
What hath disturbed him! How morose he is!
The tyrant doth succeed the pedagogue! [Exit.
Scene 19.—Richard Cromwell, Cromwell.
Richard [bowing low.
Father.—But whence this unforeseen chagrin?
What is this cloud that overspreads your brow,
On whom is like to fall the thunderbolt
That it doth harbour, and whose threatening gleam
Lurks in your eyes? What irks you? What's been done?
Tell me, what fear you? 'Midst the joy of all,
What can thus sadden you, my lord and father?
To-morrow the republic dies,—goes hence
To join the phantoms of the former kings,
And doth to you bequeath their kingdoms three;
To-morrow on the throne you grow more great;
To-morrow, in Westminster heralding
Your undisputed title to the throne,
And casting at your rivals' feet the glove
Of England, England's doughty champion,
Amid the cannon's roar and pealing bells,
Will in the name of Oliver the King
Defy the world. What lack you? London, England,
Europe, your kindred, all mankind bows down,
Responsive to your will. And if I dared
To name myself, my lord and father, I
Have thought for nothing save your present health,
