Lambert [to Syndercomb.
My friend, fraternally I yield to you
The privilege of striking the first blow.
Ludlow [hastily, to Lambert.
No, you must do the work, for you alone
Will stand where you can strike with certainty.
To Syndercomb the duty to entrust
Would be to risk the failure of the plan.
Lambert [persisting.
But I am the least worthy—
Overton. What is this!
Doth Lambert hesitate?
Lambert [aside.] Courage, my friend!
[Aloud.]I'll do it.
All [brandishing their daggers.
Death to the Amalekite!
To Cromwell, death!
Barebones [beseechingly.] I pray you, list to me!
While from a false king setting Israel free,
While slaying Cromwell, do not spoil this throne!
This velvet's very dear—ten crowns the ell.
And when you strike, pray, spare these curtains, too!
See to it that he falls upon his back,
If it be possible, so that the blood
Of this unmasked Moloch may not flow
More than need wills on my Aleppo carpet.
[Explosion of wrath among the conspirators.
Syndercomb [looking askance at Barebones.
Who is this publican?
Pride. Barebones again!
Garland.Methinks I hear Nebuchadnezzar speak.
Wildman [to Barebones.
