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Read Ebook: Cromwell: A Drama in Five Acts by Richards Alfred Bate
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CROMWELL
A Drama, in Five Acts
ALFRED B. RICHARDS
London: Printed by Petter, Duff, and Co. Playhouse Yard, Blackfriars
MDCCCLII
DRAMATIS PERSONAE.
CROMWELL.
MILTON, his Secretary.
ARTHUR WALTON.
BASIL, his Half-Brother.
SIR SIMON NEVEL, their Uncle.
IRETON, Son-in-law of Cromwell.
HARRISON, ) DESBOROUGH, ) BRADSHAW, ) MARTEN, ) Parliamentarians. LILBURNE, ) HACKER, ) LUDLOW, ) SIR HARRY VANE, )
WILLIAM, Servant to Arthur.
HEZEKIAH NEWBORN, Host.
PEARSON, Attendant on Cromwell.
WYCKOFF, Accomplice of Basil.
BOWTELL, an Ironside.
Cavaliers, Roundheads, Officers, Gentlemen, Soldiers, Guests of the Inn, Poachers, Citizens, a Preacher, Old Man, Trooper, Servants, Messengers, &c., &c.
THE LADY CROMWELL.
ELIZABETH, her Daughter.
FLORENCE NEVEL, Daughter of Sir Simon.
BARBARA, Maid of Florence.
Attendants, Women, &c.
CROMWELL.
Nay! none can know. Doubtless a message from him--I must see That they meet not, or else-- Adieu! fair cousin; I trust you'll find your senses yet ere long.
Where's my nephew?
I doubt not--Lies, lies; I said so at the time. Then you see my cousin Florence, a simple girl, trembles at his very name. You cannot wonder at it;--such stories have been told. Confess now, William, thy master hath been a prodigal. Doth he pay thy wages? Thou art scurvily clad. I have a place now--as it were.
GLEE and CHORUS.
Cold, oh! cold the March winds be; High up in a leafless tree The little bird sits and wearily twits, The woods with perjury: But the cuckoo-knave sings hold his stave, And "O poor fool!" sings he-- For this is the way in the world to live, To mock when a friend hath no more to give, Whether in hall or tree!
Sa! sa!
Fair mistress, thus I claim a young acquaintance, that hath grown Old in long absence.
The Lord is merciful to thee, young man! Another moment, and thy soul had fled-- Wherefore, I hope, since it hath chanced so, And yet not chanc'd, since 'tis appointed thus, That no one falls or lives, unless the God Of battles hath decreed. Wherefore I trust Thou art of the good work.
Noll's red nose, In a bumper here goes To Beelzebub his own master; With the pikes at his flank Of our foremost rank, And the devil to find him plaster, Fairfax and Harrison, On them our malison. But drink and sing A health to the KING-- Gentlemen! steady, Fill, now be ready.
Here, cavaliers! a blow, one blow, 'tis Noll The butcher, brewer Noll, that in your songs Ye send to hell so often. Send him now, If ye be men, not cowards. What! at loss!
These be some of Oliver's Ironsides; every one of whom is, as David, a man of war and a prophet; truly they are more earnest and sober than the others.
O dearest Florence! were I lov'd indeed by thee, There were indeed a bright star in the sky, To guide my shatter'd bark of destiny!
Sound bugles! fall in! quick march!
I will not wear it! I cannot see around--
Ho! Desborough,
Here is a dinner for thee. See thou carve it Right well. On! on! a Cromwell for a Rupert!
Now if it were not for that, this foolish brute, my body, might rush off in that direction, but it don't, for a great mind prevents it, therefore--
"Let God arise, And let his enemies be scattered!"
Thou say'st she was thy playmate-- Come, thou hast Mov'd the stern soldier to thy woman's will. Go, sir! and fetch this Florence from her roof. There should be no such scandal done in England, As the loud insult of a marriage forc'd Before God's altar.
Eliz. I do protest it has been raining long.
It is o'er. Where is your cousin gone?
Ah! he has gallop'd off so fast without Once turning. Ah! to danger--Oh, wretch! wretch! Fool that I am.
Now hath he not a traitorous brow like his, Perchance, that did stab Caesar? those were days When men did e'en as much as they dar'd hint at.
ACT IV
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