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 Your life and welfare— Cromwell [who has not taken his eyes from his face. What's the news, my son, Of King Charles Stuart? Richard [thunderstruck.] Sir! Cromwell. Another time, More wisely choose your boon-companions. Richard.May I be cut in pieces and be deemed More worthless than the pavements, good my lord, If— Cromwell [interrupting him. Do they serve good wine at the Three Cranes? Richard [aside.]Ah! the damned spy had told him all before! [Aloud.]I swear to you, my lord— Cromwell. You seem confused. Is it a sin, being in merry mood, To meet some friends about a jug of wine? I doubt not that you drank my health, my son? Richard [aside.]Ay, there's the rub! the thrice accursèd toast To Charles.
 * [Aloud.] My lord, that meeting, on my soul,

And on the name I bear, most harmless was. Cromwell [in a voice of thunder. You are a most abandoned knave! My son With Cavaliers drank his share of my blood, This morning at a hellish festival! Richard.Father! Cromwell. What! drink with pagans I abhor, To Charles's health!—And on a fast-day, too! Richard.I swear, my lord, that I knew nought of that. Cromwell.Keep for thy Tyrian King thy oaths profane!