Crom. Art thou not ashamed? Thou wanton girl!
Arth. My Florence! I am happy Since thou dost love me. I know nought of that With which he charges me—
Flor. I know thou dost not:
Thou shalt not die!
O man of blood, beware! [To Cromwell.]
If thou'rt deceived, repentance comes too late.
Is that a traitor's look! Thou canst not quell it
Back'd by an army.
Thou hast bitter moments
E'en now. The king—
Crom. I'll hear no more—remove him. [A pause.]
Yet I will give three days, if in that time
Ye prove him innocent, 'tis well—If not,
He dies the death!
[ARTHUR is seized; ELIZABETH clings to her Father, who looks on her with an expression of anger, which gradually softens into affection. Exeunt, on the one side, ARTHUR, L. with his Guards, on the other, CROMWELL, with his Family, &c., R.]
Enter WILLIAM and HOST, U.E.R.
Will. Come on, I tell thee they are all gone. Have I not liberty here?
Host. Hem! Did'st thou notice how that young imp of a page flouted thee, when thou did'st civilly inquire the hour of the day? Thou wert welcome as a wet Sunday to his new feather. I doubt whether I myself will continue to know thee.
Will. Is there no way to save him? If now it were the marriage of his heart something might occur; but I never yet heard of an accident on the road to a gallows.
Host. Cheer up! cheer up! we must all die, young and old. I have had my trials. In these wars I have known very estimable men die that owed me money. There is your true trial now.