Murray [terror-stricken.]Cromwell! and scores of soldiers, glist'ning arms!
I am a dead man!
The Cavaliers. Treachery! betrayed!
Ormond [gazing at Rochester and Cromwell in turn.
Cromwell!—and Rochester!
Rochester [rubbing his eyes.] Have I been hanged
Already? Can it be that I 'm in hell?
Yon glittering palace and these solemn ghosts,
And hordes of imps who flaring torches wave—
'Tis hell, in sooth! Wilmot had little hope
Of Heaven.
[Looking at Cromwell.
Ay, and yonder's Satan, too.
He much resembles Cromwell, by my faith!
Cromwell [to Thurloe and Lord Carlisle, pointing to the Cavaliers.
Arrest these men!
Ormond [breaking his sword across his knee.
No man shall have my sword.
Richard [aside.] What means all this? My latest escapade
Will bring upon me some new punishment.
I've broken my arrest; I am undone.
Rochester [looking about him with a bewildered air.
Why, here are Rosebery, Downie, Drogheda!
I shall at least roast in good company.—