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Cromwell [with a start.] …th! Strike! It is a fast-day!
What is it that I do? Upon a day
Of solemn fasting and divine repose,
I was about to kill a fellow-man!
And I give ear unto a soothsayer!
[To Manasseh.
Out, Jew!
[Calling.]Thurloe!
Thurloe [entering hastily.] My lord!
Manasseh [in amazement.] My lord! My lord!
Cromwell [to Manasseh.] My lord! My lord! Begone!
Manasseh [aside.] Is it a sudden stroke of vertigo?
Cromwell [going to Manasseh, in an undertone.
Begone! Thy death is even now decreed,
If thou dost lisp a word of what hath passed.
[Manasseh prostrates himself, and exit.
[To Thurloe.]O save me from yon Jew, and from myself,
Good Thurloe!
Thurloe [anxiously.] What's amiss, my lord?
Cromwell [composing his features.] … my lord? Amiss?
Nothing. I love thee, Thurloe.
Thurloe. Nothing. I love thee, Thurloe. But you said—
You seemed disturbed.
Cromwell. You seemed disturbed. Did I say aught?
Thurloe. You seemed disturbed. Did I say aught? You spoke.
Cromwell.Of nothing. Follow me, and hold thy peace.
Thurloe.How pale you are!
Cromwell [smiling bitterly.] It is the tomb-like gleam
Of yonder torch. Come—I have need of thee.

[Thurloe follows Cromwell, and pauses as they pass Rochester's bed.