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But who of them? Is't Wilmot-Rochester
Or Villiers-Buckingham? A lovelorn swain
With Frances, and with me a sham apostle;
Wilmot or Villiers, one of that mad pair
He needs must be.—My soldiers are seduced!
No longer do they love me as of yore.
But we shall see. My plan 's already formed.
'Tis pity I 've but half the countersign,
Or I would lead them on to take the bait
More quickly.—But no matter! I await
Ormond and all his churchmen!
[Davenant returns to the front of the stage and spies Cromwell.
Davenant [aside.] … all his churchmen! It is Cromwell!
[Aloud, bowing.]My lord!
Cromwell [as if agreeably surprised.
My lord! Ah! Master Davenant, well met!
Davenant [bowing again.]As ever, at your Highness's commands.
Cromwell [with a smile.
Do you still lodge at the same hostelry,
The Siren?
Davenant. The Siren? Ay, my lord.
Cromwell. The Siren? Ay, my lord. A goodly place.
How fare you, with God's help?
Davenant. How fare you, with God's help? Indifferent well.
Cromwell. You had a pleasant journey?
Davenant. You had a pleasant journey? Ay, my lord.
[Aside.]Mere words!
Cromwell. Mere words! Some object in your journeyings
Doubtless you had?—Business?—or pleasure?
Davenant. Doubtless you had?—Business?—or pleasure? Health.
Cromwell [aside.]I doubt if 'tis the better for this voyage.