He is a monster! England breathes again
Through you. Your generous arm doth set her free
From the worst tyrant hell can ever bear!—
I do not say all this to flatter you.
Cromwell.I am convinced of it.
The coarsest flattery beguiles that heart!
Cromwell [aside.
How many masks conceal that odious face!
I'll make him drop them all, each in its turn,
Before my eyes.
[Aloud.]Wilt tell my fortune, Jew?
Manasseh [bowing.]Reveal to you your future grandeur, here!
Sir corporal, you do me too great honour.
[Aside.]A beggarly recruit!
[Aloud.] You 're on the road
To fortune.
[Aside.] 'Tis to use a telescope
To see a candle.
[Aloud.]As you will, fair sir.
I 'll draw your horoscope; 'tis what we call
In Latin making an experiment.
In anima vili.
[Aside.]'Tis safe to flout
The blockhead to his very face in Latin.
[Aloud.
Give me your hand.—And let me tell you this:—
Cromwell the villain—
Ah! what hand is this!