Cromwell Part 6

_Arth._ Tell me so again!

_Flor._ Indeed, I love My father!

_Arth._ Cruel! no, I'd have thee say If thou dost love my brother.

_Flor._ He's my cousin.

_Arth._ Or any one!

_Barb._ Dear lady, it is time.

_Flor._ Farewell, sir! yet I bid you take this purse 'Tis justice--nay, my will!

_Arth._ Oh, farewell, Florence May angels light thy feet, and all the stars From heaven race with envious beams to shed Celestial brightness on the path thou blessest.

[_Exit FLORENCE, R. ARTHUR gazes after FLORENCE. WILLIAM and BARBARA, coming down, L._]

_Will._ Sweet Bab, I love thee.

_Barb._ That is a man's saying.

_Will._ Thou wouldst not have it said by anything but a man. Thou wilt not forget?

_Barb._ There, yes! no! anything!

[_Tries to get away. WILLIAM gives BARBARA a kiss._]

_Barb._ Oh, dear, I must go. [_Exit R._]

_Arth._ She's gone!

_Will._ They are, sir!

_Arth._ What _they_--

_Will._ Mistress Florence and Barbara, sir!

_Arth._ Why stand here prating, then?

Go follow; see no harm comes, quick, the road Is dangerous. I'll wait here. Leave them not Before they are safe in. [_Exit WILLIAM, R._]

For thy sake, Florence, I will believe perfection's in thy s.e.x.

How much I might have said. Yes! I have been Imagination's wildest fool to deck With qualities that did beseem them not All the worst half of women. Thus we stoop To pick up hectic apples from the ground, Pierc'd by the canker or the unseen worm, And tasting deem none other grow but they, Whilst on the topmost branches of life's tree Hangs fruitage worthy of the virgin choir Of bright Hesperides. Soft! Who comes here?

Surely my rascal is not yet return'd-- The times are full of plotting. I will hide--

[_Stands aside. Voices heard._]

[_Enter four POACHERS, one carrying a fawn._]

_1st Poach._ I tell thee that I heard 'em bay.

_2nd Poach._ And I too! Curse me, but I thought his fangs did meet in the calf of my leg.

[_Enter POACHERS, L.U.E._]

_3rd Poach._ 'Tis like it was the tooth of a dog-bramble.

_2nd Poach._ Well, well; it is the nature of man to hunt forbidden deer.

_Arth._ [Aside] And to carve his name on benches.

_2nd Poach._ And while game be preserved, there will be the likes of we.

_3rd Poach._ Right too. But it is a mortal sin to make us men into dog's-meat, and to hunt us with foreign bloodhound varmint. Hast heard, friend Gregory, who stole my apples?

_4th Poach._ Not I!

_3rd Poach._ Would I could catch the thieving rascals! Look ye, the tree is mine, and it does but hang over the road a scantling; and, as sure as nights are dark, comes me some ragged pilferers, that have not to pay an honest drunkenness, and basely steal my apples.

_Arth._ [Aside] Oh, most benighted conscience of the villains!

_4th Poach._ Shall I lend thee my bull-b.i.t.c.h to watch thy tree? She hath a real gripe for a rascally thin leg. Your orphan, your cast-away, hath no chance with her, I warrant. A rare b.i.t.c.h!

_Arth._ [_Aside_] O gentle sophist! what a line is here; Lions tear wolves, wolves rend the stricken deer.

_3rd Poach._ Well, now, I thank thee, friend Gregory. Thou art a true man. I will so belabour and flay any of the cyder-blooded rascals, an thy b.i.t.c.h shall hold him; 'twill do a man good to hear of it.

_1st Poach._ I know the b.i.t.c.h. She'll kill them outright! These be right times. There be no inquests now, Master Gregory?

_4th Poach._ What's that to me more than you others? I did not murder him!

_1st Poach._ Who? The Puritan young gentleman whom Noll the brewer, that is general now, made such a stir about--

_3rd Poach._ As if plenty didn't die in these wars--

_1st Poach._ Or the girl, Gregory! eh? the girl by the well, with her finger cut, and her throat--

_4th Poach._ d.a.m.n thee, have done! She was dead, ere I found her, and I did but take--

_1st Poach._ The ring, thou wouldst say.

_2nd and 3rd Poach._ Come, confess now!

_Arth._ [_Aside_] This is black devilry. Alas! poor England!

How many private, sleeping villanies Now wake to horrid life that else had slept, But for the times' most b.l.o.o.d.y anarchy?

_2nd Poach._ They say this Cromwell is near these parts.

_4th Poach._ I heard another speak! [_Loud_] I never saw the girl till she was brought in, I tell ye.