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 Cromwell [to. I must leave you. I go hence To listen to a sermon upon Rome And priests of Ammon. [Exit.

10.—, alone.

Lady Frances.My poor knight but a sorry figure cut. In truth, the punishment was something harsh. To marry thus, without well knowing why, And turn his soft eyes on Dame Guggligoy! It was ill done, and I am sorry for 't.— But could I have done better? 'Tis past doubt My father would have been far more severe. [She spies the roll of parchment lying on the floor. But there's his note.—What could he write to me? I will not read it. [She glances at the parchment with a curious and longing air. But should I deny All mercy?—And if I should read it? Well, What harm? I can replace it, so that he— I owe it him to read it—he has been Punished enough. [She pounces on the parchment, unties the ribbon and unrolls it. But shall I read? Is't wrong? But no! that episode is closed. I'll read.
 * [She reads.

"My lord."—My lord! what a strange man is this! He called me princess, angel, nymph, and queen; And now, "my lord"! A madman!
 * [She reads on.]"All goes well!"—

He writes just as he speaks—past comprehension.—