ACT FIFTH. THE WORKMEN
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been gradually dissipated by Cromwell's harangue, give voice to their enthusiasm. The Parliament and the Protector's retinue are stupefied.—Cromwell draws himself up and waves his hand with an air of command, and the crowd becomes silent.
And hereupon
With humble and submissive heart we pray
That God will have you in his holy keeping.
We have laid bare to you our inmost soul,
And, lastly, we do your forgiveness crave
For such a discourse on so hot a day.
[He resumes his seat.—The frenzied acclamations of the people break out anew. The disconcerted Puritan conspirators maintain a gloomy silence and throw away their daggers.
Overton [to Garland, in an undertone.
He'll die in bed!
Garland [in an undertone.
They want him, let them have him.
The Crowd.Hurrah!
Wildman [in an undertone.
From this day forth he holds his rank
By right hereditary! Juggling hound!
The Crowd.Hurrah for the Protector! Long live Cromwell!
All glory to the conqueror of Tyre!
Overton [to the Puritans, in an undertone.
How he has tricked us! Surely he was warned.
Some one betrayed us! 'twas a downright crime.
Barebones [aside.]It was the only way to save my stuffs.
[The majority of the conspirators disperse through the crowd, which continues to hail the triumphant Cromwell with noisy acclamations.
