ACT FOURTH. THE SENTINEL
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Thurloe.See how he sleeps!
Cromwell. Ay, 'tis a sleep profound
And near to death! [Exeunt
ACT FOURTH. THE SENTINEL.
The Postern-Gate of the Park of Whitehall.— At the right, clumps of trees; at the back, other clumps of trees; above which the Gothic roofs of the palace are silhouetted against the dark sky. At the left, the postern—a small ogive gate profusely embellished with carvings.—It is night.
Scene 1.—Cromwell, disguised as a soldier, with a heavy musket over his shoulder, and leather cuirass, broad-brimmed hat with conical crown, and high boots.
[He is walking back and forth before the gate, after the manner of a sentinel.—A few seconds after the curtain rises, the call of a sentinel is heard in the distance.
The Voice.All goes well! are you on guard?
Cromwell [resting his musket on the ground.
All goes well! are you on guard?
A Third Voice [in the distance.
All goes well! are you on guard?
Cromwell [after a moment's silence.
I am on guard, in sooth—on guard for all!
Cromwell, by sober forethought hither led,
Will to his murderers, with his own hand,
Open his door.
[Footsteps are heard in the distance.
How now! already? no,
