I shall be close beside you. If your hand
Doth falter, if, when Cromwell shall have placed
The crown upon his brow, you smite him not,
And first of all revenge his insolence,
Then I shall be more prompt. See you this knife?
[He points to his dagger.
Failing the other, this will pierce your heart,
While seeking his. And so I leave you now
To choose between two acts of cowardice. [Exit.
Lambert [trembling with rage and following Overton to the door.
You dare! Audacious knave!—Hark ye—He 's gone.
And on my brow a burning flush of shame
Doth blame this hand for that it was so slow
To punish him!—He 's gone! How shamefully
The traitor did humiliate me! Ah!
To what mad fools my plans have bound me fast!
Alas! what is my fate since I began
To plot? Incessantly forced further back
From the longed-for goal, and threatened with the loss
Of everything when we at last do triumph!
And 'midst a thousand perils overwhelmed
By countless insults! Trampled under foot
By the vile tyrant, slighted by the slaves!
Draw back? into th' abyss! Go forward, then?
O'er molten lava!—Overton or Cromwell!
Victim or executioner!—How now!
He, draw his sword 'gainst me! But he would do it!
That he is capable thereof I know.
