Later you shall know all.
Thurloe [aside.] Struck dumb am I!
'Tis thus he doth make use of us. Our lips
Forever closed! His plans to execute,
Though knowing nought of them; to be now deaf
And dumb and blind, and now to have, at need,
A hundred voices, arms and eyes!
[Aloud.]My lord,—
Your pardon if I do presume too far,—
Home peril threatens you; what is it, pray?
[Pointing to the bed.
And who is destined here to take your place?
Cromwell.Peace! peace!—My chaplain tarries over-long.
[Aside, striding back and forth at the front of the stage.
How well content they are! The fools believe
They have me in their clutches. Ormond laughs
On one side, Rochester on th'other.—Good!
Their craft will soon be face to face with mine.
They dig my grave by their own narrow measure.
Why so much light? One candle is enough.
Pray let there be some slight economy
In my expenses.
[He himself blows out one of the candles.
Thus it is we quench
An enemy's life. One breath—and all is said.—
How now! my chaplain?
Thurloe. He is here.
