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Good, honest Master Walton, tell me now What news from Langley, virtuous Master Walton?
Nay, never look with that blank wonderment, Friend Arthur Walton-- [_ARTH. attempts to speak._] Tush, sir, not a word-- As the Lord liveth, thou shalt die the death-- Take him away. I hate his open brow More than a dozen dark-fac'd royalists In arms against us.
_Arth._ What doth this mean?-- Frenzy Hath surely seized him--
_Crom._ No! the sense To know thee, hypocrite!
_Flor._ O Arthur! Arthur!
What has he done? [_Rushes to his arms._]
Forgive me, dearest Arthur!
Sir, he's not guilty-- [_To Cromwell._]
_Crom._ Silence, woman! Take him Away!
_Eliz._ My veins thrill! Parted?--No! No! No!
Perish the mean thought-- Let me aid them, though I die; then o'er my quiet grave, my thought Doth sculpture them in prayer-- [_To Cromwell._] He is innocent, My father! Let him go--Do you not see They love each other?--
_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.
_Will._ If he had been slain on the right side, and died comely with a love-lock as a gentleman should.
But to perish by the false canting rebel that he served.
He a traitor! My master! The innocentest youth alive. Why even I, that have some claim, could not find it in my heart to cheat him. It would have been an insult to my understanding to impose upon him that had no suspicions, and would leave out his doublet in the morning to be cleaned unemptied, when he had won uncounted pieces of gold at night--Alas! Alas!
_Host._ Come along, thou mayest as well drink; for weeping will not mend thee. Besides, I have something to tell thee about him and his brother Basil, and one Wyckoff, that hath left his score unpaid; but I cannot remember it just now.
[_He takes him by the arm and leads him out, L._]
_Enter BASIL, WALTON, and FLORENCE, R._
_Basil._ He is my half-brother, it is true; but shall he betray the true cause for that? Shall our consanguinity make me so weak?
_Flor._ Oh, Basil! you have said that you can save him-- Save him that lov'd you well, that gave you all That was his own--
_Bas._ May curses light on him!
Why should his sneaking face thus cross my love?
_Flor._ In Heaven alone I put my trust to save him; Profane my sight no longer, sir. Away!
_Bas._ You are right--Let him die--Tis I am wrong To save a traitor thus, a d.a.m.ned traitor--
_Flor._ Blasphemer, silence!
_Bas._ Oh, a traitor's death!
'Tis none so envious--but as I'm his brother, I thought to save our name from this foul blot.
_Flor._ Oh, agony!
_Bas._ 'Tis true his life Is nothing, and 'tis forfeit--but his name Dishonour'd, tainted--
_Flor._ Hold, hold! Let me think.
Have mercy! No?
[_Aside._] Then let me die for him, For thus I could not live. [_Aloud._] I will be yours, But not yet--
_Bas._ O, I'll give a month. I am A courteous wooer--then, perchance your love May date, ere we are married--'Tis well so--
[_Attempts to take her by the hand._]
_Flor._ I pray you, leave me now--
_Bas._ You swear then--
_Flor._ Yes!
_Bas._ By all that's holy?
_Flor._ Sir! it is enough, I have said that if you claim me in a month, I will be yours, if living--go! now, go!
_Bas._ Remember that his life alone I promise--
_Flor._ His life, his life! O G.o.d! Quick, save his life--
[_He takes her hand, which he kisses; she withdraws it with an expression of pain. Exeunt, FLORENCE, L., BASIL, R._]
