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 Cromwell [with a start.]  It is a fast-day! What is it that I do? Upon a day Of solemn fasting and divine repose, I was about to kill a fellow-man! And I give ear unto a soothsayer!
 * [To.

Out, Jew!
 * [Calling.]Thurloe!

Thurloe [entering hastily.] My lord! Manasseh [in amazement.] My lord! Cromwell [to .] Begone! Manasseh [aside.] Is it a sudden stroke of vertigo? Cromwell [going to , in an undertone. Begone! Thy death is even now decreed, If thou dost lisp a word of what hath passed.
 * [ prostrates himself, and exit.

[To .]O save me from yon Jew, and from myself, Good Thurloe! Thurloe [anxiously.] What's amiss, my lord? Cromwell [composing his features.] Amiss? Nothing. I love thee, Thurloe. Thurloe. But you said— You seemed disturbed. Cromwell. Did I say aught? Thurloe. You spoke. Cromwell.Of nothing. Follow me, and hold thy peace. Thurloe.How pale you are! Cromwell [smiling bitterly.] It is the tomb-like gleam Of yonder torch. Come—I have need of thee.