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 Cromwell. 'Tis rarely opened. The lock is rusty. With the Stuart blood The window's marred. Ay, thence he took his flight Toward heaven! It would ope more readily, Perchance, if I were king! Rochester. A cool conceit! Cromwell.If every crime must expiated be, Then, Cromwell, tremble! 'Twas an impious deed. A nobler brow ne'er graced the royal seat. A good man and a just was Charles the First Rochester.A loyal subject! Cromwell. How could I forestall That murd'rous frenzy? Spared I aught of prayers, Of vigils and of fasts to save the victim? But his decree of death was signed in heav'n. Rochester.By Cromwell, too, who falsified the scales And acted silently, while thou didst pray, O pure and spotless man! Cromwell [in profound distress.] Full many a time These palace walls have seen me moan the fate Of England's best! Rochester [wiping away a tear. Dear man! he moveth me To tears. Cromwell.What dire remorse that august head Hath caused me! Rochester. Be not to thyself unjust! Regret, I understand; but why remorse? Cromwell [with his eyes on the ground. What think they of us, they who've gone before? Rochester. Poor fellow! grief doth discompose his brain.