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 To Cromwell! One compels to sleep profound, The other to give battle. I have changed My demon, that is all.—Yawning—so soon?
 * [He seats himself on one of the folding chairs.

Thurloe [to. Is't poison that he drank? Rochester [yawning.] Now, by my faith, The question is most flattering to both, To Cromwell and to me! Cromwell [to , in an undertone. That we shall see. Thurloe [aside, watching. Poor man! Rochester [yawning.] Ah me! my head is in a whirl.
 * [Yawning again.

When one has played a part the livelong day: Fasted and prayed—preached much—and sworn but little,— Worn a saint's mask—and borne a Hebrew name— Old Noll's harangue—upon the Bible—heard— 'Tis hard— [He yawns. To fall asleep—at the dénouement!
 * [He yawns again.

God grant I may not wake hanged by the neck! But with me Ormond, too, will be undone; That is my sole regret.—I must dispel The melancholy thought. [He yawns.] Phial of hell!— I scarce can lift my head.—Give you good-night, Good Master Cromwell.—And God save the King!
 * [His head falls forward and he sleeps.

Cromwell [with his eyes fixed on. What marvellous devotion!—Who would do As much for me?
 * [To .] Let's place him on this bed.