Page:CromwellHugo.djvu/215

 But sparingly. But here—
 * [He offers  the parchment.

Cromwell. Read on. Trick [unrolling it.] Ahem! "Quatrain."—'Tis wretched stuff!—"To my divinity." "O fair Egeria"— Rochester [aside.] God! my quatrain 'tis! [He rushes at  and snatches the parchment from him. Demons! damnation! Heaven pardon me,
 * [He hows to .

And you, my lord, if I do swear, but how Listen unmoved the while before my face A torrent of obscenities bursts forth?
 * [To , who is roaring with laughter.

Away, thou Edomite, thou Midianite. [Aside.]I can recall no other rhyme in ite! Those devils filched my quatrain from my pocket! Cromwell [to .]I well believe these verses do arouse Your scorn— Rochester [aside.] Nay, nay! Cromwell. But we are not in church; And I would read what doth incur your blame. So give it me. Rochester.What! songs of hell, my lord! Cromwell [impatiently.]Give, or I— Rochester. But, my lord— Cromwell [imperatively.] Sirrah, obey.

These verses are as bad as bad can be!