[Aloud, wrathfully.] Did I not bid you, knaves,
To entertain me? Pray, what think you on?
[Aside.]They're listening! the flatterers!
[To Carlisle, in an undertone.]My lord,
Double the guard about this palace.
[Exit Carlisle.
[Aloud.]Well!
What of this quatrain?
[Aside.]I am choked with wrath!
[Enter Thurloe.
Thurloe [to Cromwell.]The Ranters, whom the Holy Spirit moves,
Touching a point of faith would fain consult
My lord. They are without.
Cromwell. Admit them.
[Aside.]Ah!
Were I but king by birth, I'd drive them forth!
But one who by the people's choice doth lead,
To guide the mob must study them to please.
The Leader of the Deputation [solemnly.
O Oliver, in Zion chief and judge,
The saints in solemn convocation met
In London, knowing that thy learning is
An overflowing vessel, through our mouths
Do ask thee whether we must burn or hang
Them who, not speaking as St. John did speak,
Say Siboleth instead of Shiboleth.
Cromwell [meditating.]'Tis a momentous question and should be
Well thought on. Siboleth's idolatry,
