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Ormond. United with the Roundheads? You will see
With your own eyes, here in this place, ere long,
The King's men mingling with the partisans
Of Parliament. The lowering Puritans
Obey the voice of their fanaticism.
They'll have no more of Oliver than Charles.
If Cromwell grasps the throne, then at their hands
He dies. Lambert, his rival and their chief,
Doth join with us. He ventures to aspire
To replace Cromwell, but we'll look to that!
Spanish and Flemish gold have won for us
Many confederates within these walls.
'Tis a fair game in short,—we cast the die!
Broghill.⁠Cromwell is very shrewd! you stake your head.
Ormond.⁠For whom to-morrow'll be a festal day,
God alone knows. Our plot's success is sure.
This morning Rochester will hither bring
Sedley and Jenkins, Clifford, Davenant
The poet, who the King's secret commands
Doth bear to us. To the same rendezvous
Sir Richard Willis, Harrison and Carr
Will come.
Broghill.⁠But they're in prison; they are foes
Whom Cromwell holds in durance in the Tower.
Ormond.⁠A word confounds thee. Bound by diverse ties
To the same fate—to compass Cromwell's fall,—
Our ranks include Barkstead the regicide,
The Keeper of the Tower, whom the hope
Of pardon hath impelled to side with us.
You see how artfully our scheme's devised.
In a vast network Cromwell is enmeshed.
He'll not escape! Beneath the throne he rears,
Like-minded interests have digged a pit.