Cromwell.'Tis said.
Lady Frances. O happy day! England, my lord,
Will owe its new-found happiness to you.
Cromwell.Always that was my aim.
Lady Frances. My lord and father,
How overjoyed will your dear sister be!
After eight years of waiting we shall see
Our good Charles Stuart once again!
Cromwell [surprised.] How now!
Lady Frances.How good you are, and great, my father dear!
Cromwell.'Tis not a Stuart.
Lady Frances. Who, then, can it be?
A Bourbon? They've no claim to England's throne.
Cromwell.I think the same.
Lady Frances. Who, then, dares lay his hand
On the hereditary sceptre?
Cromwell [aside.] Woe is me!
What answer shall I make? 'Tis hard for me
To speak my name; it seems to me a crime,
[Aloud.] My Frances, other times another race
Demand. Hast thou not thought, to fill that throne—
Lady Frances.Of whom?
Cromwell [gently.] Of thy own father, for example—
Of Cromwell?
Lady Frances. Now may Heaven strike me dumb
If such a thought had ever come to me!
Cromwell [aside.]Alas!
Lady Frances. What! father, I insult you so!
Deem you a perjured, impious usurper?
Cromwell.My child, my virtue you exalt too far.
Lady Frances.With temporary power you are clothed;
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CROMWELL