Cromwell: A Drama, in Five ActsRichards, Alfred Bate
General
Cromwell: A Drama, in Five Acts
Richards, Alfred Bate
Cromwell, Oliver, 1599-1658 -- Drama
_Host._ These be now your civil wars: didst
mark? he said all should have been paid. Now, with them
that were here, there were some fourscore and ten
quarts that might have been drunk, had they staid
an hour or so; and now to ride off thirsty to be killed.
_Will._ Well, it might have been worse, for they
might have drunk it, and departed in that military
haste which precludes payment.
_Host._ Ay! ay! thou wilt have thy jest.
[_Exit into house._]
[_Enter ARTHUR WALTON, L._]
_Arth._ Where hast thou been so long?
[_To WILLIAM._]
_Will._ Truly at the burial of one Generosity!
_Arth._ And what manner of person was he?
_Will._ A fool in this world, but an angel of light in
the next; if the word of God be true, which I
remember to have heard in my childhood in the church
there.
_Arth._ And how was he buried?
_Will._ About the setting of the sun, when he had
no more to give. I saw none in the garb of
mourning, though many wore long faces, because their gain
was stopped.
_Arth._ And what wrote they on his tomb?
_Will._ Other names than his own. Extravagance,
folly, imprudence, were the best terms there. One
whom he had released from gaol, carved madness with
a flint stone. There was but one would have painted
his true name, but his tears defaced it--a humble
dependent, who had been faithful to him, but whom
he regarded not, being accustomed to his services.
_Arth._ Out! rogue! I have humoured thee too
long, leave thy rascal allegory. Hast seen my brother?
_Will._ Ay, and thy cousin. She is a rare girl, and
remembereth thee well. Thy brother is not attached
to thee. He will give thee five hundred pounds if
thou wilt swear to quit England for ever. He abuseth
thee finely, saith thou art a debauched vagabond,
which is an insult to me thy serving companion,
whom he threatened with the stocks. Wilt thou not
slay him?
_Arth._ O monstrous! Can it be? Fool that I
have been. My father, thou wert right, indeed!
_Will._ Thy cousin would see thee. She is miserable
about something, and will be here presently.
_Arth._ I will wither him with my reproaches.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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