Say to the master aught thereof.
Elespuru. I' faith,
Let him protect himself!
Giraff. Let us say nought
And laugh!
Trick. On all sides we triumphant are.
Satan makes tyrants for the jesters' pleasure.
While the whole world before the despot quakes,
We make of Cromwell's sceptre our fool's bauble!
Cromwell.Ah! my four fools.—Faith, 'tis a fitting time
To recreate ourselves. [Enter Thurloe.
Thurloe [to Cromwell.] The Parliament
In the throne-room awaits—
Cromwell [testily.] Oh! let them wait!
Thurloe [to Cromwell, in an undertone.
The Address, wherein the people humbly pray
His Highness, the Protector, to vouchsafe
To be made king, they bring.
Cromwell [beaming with joy.] So then 'tis done!
[Aside.]What fools they be!
[To Thurloe.]I'll hear them in good time,
After my Council; then I must inspect
The Frisian greys that Holstein's Duke hath sent.
Do you the honours, keep alive their zeal,
Bid them discuss some text until I come.