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.

    80/92 (page 74)
    Cromwell.—Joshua, thy wit is the saving clause of thy idiotcy. Doctor Sydenham did tell me t’other day that in Galen ’twas said, the wit of a man may he told from the shape of his head. I wonder what could be told of thine? Josh.—Nay, I heed not what Doctor Sydenham should say of my pate, my Lord; though a man of discretion would, I doubt me not, cede it to be a noble protruberance. But, my Lord, about this youth. I ask not for his pardon. Cromwell.—What else then, Buckshead ? Josh.—My Lord, I would simply say, that this young man having been a lover of Miss Nora I have gauged him, my Lord, afore this, and by my sacred honour I believe, that though he may know something of plots and of conspiracies he be rather an instrument, or tool, than an actor himself. There- fore, I merely pray you, my Lord, to see the young man ere he goeth to the block. Cromwell.—I object not to that; indeed, I will see him before I sign his death warrant. Josh. [Aside.]—That be the gain of one hour any ways. Joshua Buckthorn, thou wert born to have thy humour. Sweet Letitia, Honourable Letitia, thou shalt yet be my Lady Buckthorn. [Exit Josh. Enter Smite1 em bringing a Death Warrant. Cromwell.—Captain Colman, thy faithful promptitude deserveth our thanks. What bringest thou ? Smite'em.—The warrant, General, for execution at nine of the morn. Cromwell.—’Tis short time enough. Smite'em.—More time than he would have given thee, General. Cromwell. —May be, may be; but art sure thou hast the right man ? Smite'em.—Sartain as sin, General ,* we caught him up a tree. The council of officers have tried him and found him guilty. Trees don’t answer twice for hiding’, General. I like that. Cromwell— Leave the warrant, Smite’em; keep good guard, and fetch the youth, at once, to me. Smite1 em.—Head on shoulders an all ? Cromivell.—All. I would question him. Smite'cm.—Yea verily. [Aside.] I hate that. [Exit.