The Lion's Whelp: A Story of Cromwell's TimeBarr, Amelia E.
History
The Lion's Whelp: A Story of Cromwell's Time
Barr, Amelia E.
Great Britain -- History -- Stuarts, 1603-1714 -- Fiction
"I want my old friends to trust in me and love me. Power is a poor
exchange for love. I want Lambert and Harrison and Ludlow and the
others to be at my right hand, as they used to be. Ludlow tells me
plainly, he only submits to my government because he can’t help himself;
and Harrison, who used to pray with me, now prays against me. Oh,
Elizabeth, you know not how these men wound me at every turn of my
life!"
"Oh, indeed, Oliver, do you think the women are anything behind them? I
could tell you some things I have had to suffer, and the poor girls
also. What have they not said of me? Indeed I have shed some tears,
and been sorely mortified. The women I knew in the old days, do they
come near me? They do not. Even if I ask them, they are sick, or they
are gone away, or their time is in some respect forespoken. It is
always so. Only little Jane Swaffham keeps the same sweet friendship
with us. I say not that much for Martha Swaffham. Very seldom she
comes at my request—and I have a right now to request, and she has the
obligation to accept. Is not that so, Oliver? But she thinks
herself——"
"Never mind Martha Swaffham; Israel stands firm as a rock by me. After
all, Elizabeth, there is nothing got by this world’s love, and nothing
lost by its hate. This is the root of the matter: my position as
Protector is either of God, or of man. If I did not firmly believe it
was of God, I would have run away from it many years ago. If it be of
God, He will bear me up while I am in it. If it be of man it will shake
and tumble. What are all our histories but God manifesting that He has
shaken and trampled upon everything He has not planted? So, then, if
the Lord take pleasure in England, we shall in His strength be strong.
I bless God I have been inured to difficulties, and I never yet found
God failing when I trusted in Him. Never! Yea, when I think of His
help in Scotland, in Ireland, in England, I can laugh and sing in my
soul. I can, indeed I can!"
"My dearest, you are now in a good mind. Lie down and sleep in His
care, for He does care for you." And she put her arms around his neck
and kissed him; and he answered,
"Thou art my comfort, and I thank God for thee! When He laid out my
life’s hard work, He thought of thee to sweeten it."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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