ACT FIFTH. THE WORKMEN
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Milton [continuing.
How difficult it is for me to hate
This archangel, whose name I would have writ
Upon an altar's front! How artfully
The man in whom I joyfully adored
The living truth, did soothe our fears away!
I come to say farewell to thee forever,
Thou doomèd king, thou rebel against God,
And 'gainst the people!—Take the royalty
Of Cæsar and of Guise. The crown is gilding,
The dagger sharpening.
[He withdraws to a corner of the stage, on the side opposite the hiding-place of the Jesters, andstands there like a statue.
Scene 9.—The Same, the Populace; afterward, Willis; then Overton, Syndercomb, and the Puritan Conspirators.
[Enter a crowd of citizens,—men, women, old men,—in Puritan garb. They seem to belong to various trades. Among them can be seen an old discharged soldier.—They rush upon the stage tumultuously; the first call those behind, crying:
This way!
Milton [to his Page.]Who comes?
The Page. The people, sir.
Milton [bitterly.] Ah, yes!
The people! Ever guileless, ever dazzled,
Hither they come to see their destiny
Made a mere toy by others than themselves
Upon a stage adorned at their expense.
First Citizen.No guards as yet!
Second Citizen. By good hap we're the first.
