Forever!
Thurloe [to Cromwell, in an undertone.
Everything doth smile on you,
And all do yield submissive to your will.
What acclamations! what a glorious day!
Cromwell [bitterly, to Thurloe, in an undertone.
Ay, this innumerable, cheering crowd,
Drunken with love, who seem so potently
To aid my lofty destiny,—no less
Would they applaud if I were on my way
To execution. In my victory
They see a brilliant, splendid spectacle.
They run to look, enjoy it to the full,
And when thou seest them fill the streets and squares
With transports of delight, there's nought on earth
Would please them better than to see me crowned,
If it were not to see me hanged.—Dear people!—
But here, what silence!
Thurloe [in an undertone.] Good my lord, the mob
Has by the Levellers been worked upon.
The Speaker [to Cromwell.
My Lord! When Samuel offered sacrifice,
He kept for Saul the shoulder of the ox,
To show that king, behind the sacred curtain,
How that a nation for a single man
A heavy burden is. In later days
Was Maximilian often wont to say
That 'tis a difficult and weary task
To train one's self to rule. And few there be
