Page:CromwellHugo.djvu/271

Cromwell. How now! my chaplain? He is here. At last!
[He rubs his hands in glee.

Scene 16.—The Same, Lord Rochester.

Rochester [aside.]The cup is full, and Noll must drink of it.
Egad! he'll have a glorious nap, poor man!
I drained the phial dry.—But, in good sooth,
I serve him well.—I save him from remorse;
Thanks to my kind attention, he will sleep
More soundly than for many a weary day.

[He takes the salver from the page, who retires, and offers it to Cromwell, towing respectfully.

[Aloud.
My lord—
[Aside.
My lord— Still must I stand on ceremony.
[Aloud.
Pray drink this draught that my own hands have blest.
Cromwell [sneeringly.
Oh! you have blest it?
Rochester. Oh! you have blest it? Yes.
Oh! you have blest… [Aside.]Gad! what a look!
Cromwell.'Tis well; this draught is like to do me good?
Rochester.Ay, hippocras possesses wondrous power
To make one sleep.
Cromwell. To make one sleep. In that case, drink yourself!

[He suddenly takes the goblet from the salver and offers it to Rochester.

Rochester [drawing back in dismay.
My lord!—
[Aside.] A veritable thunderbolt!