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 [He dismisses all those present with a wave of the hand. Farewell, duke—gentlemen.

Cromwell [to the Protectress.] Good-morrow, dame. You seem in evil case. Slept you not well? Elizabeth Bourchier. Nay, not till break the day Closed I my eyes. Ah, Sir, in very truth, I like not all this pomp and ceremony. The chamber of the Queen, wherein I lie, Is too enormous. That emblazoned bed Whereon the Stuarts and the Tudors lay, That gorgeous cloth of silver canopy, Those posts of gilded wood, the kingly plumes, The balustrade that holds me captive on My royal daïs, and the ornaments And velvet furniture—'tis like a dream Which takes away my sleep!—And one must needs