A day with Cromwell: a drama of history, in five acts, by Auctor.

  • Benjamin Ward Richardson
Date:
1869
Catalogue details

Licence: Public Domain Mark

Credit: A day with Cromwell: a drama of history, in five acts, by Auctor. Source: Wellcome Collection.

Provider: This material has been provided by Royal College of Physicians, London. The original may be consulted at Royal College of Physicians, London.

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    Deborah. [Aside.]—Oh Lord, Lord, what a lie! Cromwell. [To Josh, aside.']—Hist man, into the palace and return instantly with Parson Goodwin, thy own wife, and a wedding ring. I see here a marriage settlement. Josh.—But the ring, my Lord, Cromwell.—Borrow mother Buckthorn’s, an’, thou must: away! [To Jeremy.] Come hither, Jeremy White, come hither. Jeremy, Jeremy, my friend, my friend, thou surprisest me. Ihou rankest as ua top wit of the court,” could’st thou not win her by thy address ? Jeremy.—No, my Lord. Cromwell.—Jeremy, thou art a learned man; could’st thou not win her by thy wisdom ? Jeremy.—No, my Lord. Cromwell.—Jeremy, thou art an eloquent preacher; I have heard thee discourse, and have been edified thereby; could’st thou not win her with thy speech ? Jeremy.—No, my Lord. Cromwell.—Poor Jeremy ! Jeremy, shall I try for thee ? Jeremy.—Good, my Lord, if Cromwell.—Nay, Jeremy, say not if. I am thy friend, Jeremy. I will do it. [To Deborah.]—How now, hussey, why do you refuse the honour Mr. White would do you? He is my particular friend, and I expect you shall treat him as such. Deborah—[curtseying.]—If Mr. White intends me this honour I shall not be against him. Cromwell.—Sayest thou so, my lass, then shall it soon be done. Jeremy.—[Aside.]—Oh ! Oh! Oh! Truly, and lying doth bring no recompense. I must even yet try to escape. Enter Chaplain Goodwin, Mrs. Buckthorn, and Josh. Cromwell. [To Goodwin.]—Reverend Sir, I beseech you in holy matrimony hind together these two young hearts : bind them even now and for good. Jeremy.—My Lord, an’ ’twould please your Highness, were it not better done in a Church ? Cromwell.—What holier place than this encircling dome, Beyond whose spangled and ethereal walls Dwells the Eternal, and where all is heaven ?