Ormond.Deplorable and wonted consequence
Of civil strife! O God! on what slight threads
Virtues political depend to-day!
How many owe their fall to their harsh fate!
How many who appear as white as snow
Are simply fortunate! Broghill! with us
Shatter the yoke that doth oppress us all;
Prove your repentance!
Broghill. What! another crime?
Nay. In your fatal secret I may be
A confidant discreet, but nought beyond.
Neutral in this sad conflict, be it mine
To undergo your triumph, or to break
Your fall. Whoever be the conqueror,
Faithful to both, with Cromwell to succumb,
Or move him to be merciful to you.
Ormond.To hold your peace and act not! So you'll be
To Cromwell false, yet serve not your true master.
In God's name be to us a sincere friend
Or sincere foe, and not half-false, half-true!
Denounce me, rather!
Broghill [haughtily.] For those words, my lord,
Were you not outlawed, you should answer me!
Ormond [offering him his hand.
Forgive me, Broghill; an old soldier I,
Full twenty years, faithful to my King,
My duty I performed. Upon my body
Are written well-nigh all my services
And well-nigh all my battles, in deep scars;
By many a skilful chief have I been taught—
Prince Rupert and the Marquis of Montrose;
I've led without vainglory and obeyed
Without complaint. 'Neath helm and coat of mail
I have grown old and grey; the death I saw
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ACT FIRST. THE CONSPIRATORS
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