Cromwell.Now, Master Lenthall.
Lenthall [rising.] Sire, the Parliament
The counsels of the nation doth direct,
In whom alone the royalty resides.
Both small and great are bound by its decrees.
If, then, the Parliament doth make you king.
You must, according to the Roman law
And to the Decalogue, obey and reign,
Cromwell [aside.]A demagogic courtier!
Lenthall [aside.] He'll yield,
And in that case I hope he'll not forget
To raise me to the House of Peers.
Thurloe [to Cromwell, in an undertone.]My lord,
The Parliament still waits—
Cromwell [in an undertone, impatiently.
Hush!
Thurloe [in an undertone.] But, my lord—
Cromwell [in the same tone.]Before accepting, I must needs reflect.
Fleetwood [rising.] Oh! pray refuse, my lord! For your own sake,
And for your honour's sake, I make so bold—
Cromwell [dismissing them all with a wave of the hand.
Go all and pray,—seek counsel from the Lord!