With gaming did debase the day of prayer;
Nay, nor when Stuart, all vainglorious
Of his time-honoured rights, the blazonry
Of kings mistook for rays from God on high,
With his superb and ancient royalty,
Knelt down before the people's keen-edged axe!
In each of them, methought, as it is writ,
That we had sacrificed the Antichrist
In mortal guise; but now, to-day, I see,
That 'tis in Cromwell that triumphant Zion
Strikes down at last that fatal parasite,
And from the steps of his unfinished throne
Doth hurl him back to Tophet, whence he came,
Spewed forth by Satan! Ah! the glorious day!
Goliath, England's bugbear, to cast down
From his great height, face downward, to the earth!
Syndercomb.A noble dagger-thrust to deal, in sooth!
Pride.What honour for the saints who are to fight
The battles of the Lord!
Joyce [pointing to the throne.] Now may his blood
Pour forth in rivers on this purple where
Our nets await!
Barebones [striking himself on the forehead, aside.
'Tis true! Where are my wits?
Past question, with their blood they 'll mar my throne!
And then what shall I do? The stuff will lose
One-fifth in value.
[Aloud, after a moment's thought.
On my heart your words
Fall sweet as balm. The humblest member I
