LADY CLAYPOLE. Pray his entrance.
Myself will seek the General. (exit servant)
Thank me, Edith!
If now I quit thee, wilt thou thank me less?
EDITH. I prithee stay!
LADY CLAYPOLE. Nay, Friendship is a star
Fading before the presence of Love's sun.
Farewell! Again, those blushes!—Edith, fie!
(exit Lady Claypole)
SCENE IV.—Cecil and Edith.
CECIL. Where is the General?—Where—Oh, Heaven! my Edith?
EDITH. Is there no welcome in that word? Am I
Unlooked for at thy coming?
CECIL. Pardon, Madam!
I—I—(aside) Oh, God! how bitter is this trial!
Why do I love her less? Why fall I not
At her dear feet? Why stand I thus amazed?
Is this not Edith? No! 'tis Cromwell's niece;
And Cromwell is the murtherer of my king!
EDITH. ‘Pardon’ and ‘madam!’—do I hear aright?
Art thou so cold? Do I offend thine eyes?
Thou turn'st away thy face! Well, Sir, 'tis well!
Hubert! still silent! (In a softer voice) Hubert!
CECIL. Oh, for grace!
For heaven's dear grace! speak not in that sweet tone!
Be not so like that shape that was my Edith!