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 But who of them? Is't Wilmot-Rochester Or Villiers-Buckingham? A lovelorn swain With Frances, and with me a sham apostle; Wilmot or Villiers, one of that mad pair He needs must be.—My soldiers are seduced! No longer do they love me as of yore. But we shall see. My plan 's already formed. 'Tis pity I 've but half the countersign, Or I would lead them on to take the bait More quickly.—But no matter! I await Ormond and all his churchmen! [ returns to the front of the stage and spies. Davenant [aside.] It is Cromwell! [Aloud, bowing.]My lord! Cromwell [as if agreeably surprised. Ah! Master Davenant, well met! Davenant [bowing again.]As ever, at your Highness's commands. Cromwell [with a smile. Do you still lodge at the same hostelry, The Siren? Davenant. Ay, my lord. Cromwell. A goodly place. How fare you, with God's help? Davenant. Indifferent well. Cromwell. You had a pleasant journey? Davenant. Ay, my lord. [Aside.]Mere words! Cromwell. Some object in your journeyings Doubtless you had?—Business?—or pleasure? Davenant. Health. Cromwell [aside.]I doubt if 'tis the better for this voyage.