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 I shall be close beside you. If your hand Doth falter, if, when Cromwell shall have placed The crown upon his brow, you smite him not, And first of all revenge his insolence, Then I shall be more prompt. See you this knife?
 * [He points to his dagger.

Failing the other, this will pierce your heart, While seeking his. And so I leave you now To choose between two acts of cowardice.

Lambert [trembling with rage and following  to the door. You dare! Audacious knave!—Hark ye—He 's gone. And on my brow a burning flush of shame Doth blame this hand for that it was so slow To punish him!—He 's gone! How shamefully The traitor did humiliate me! Ah! To what mad fools my plans have bound me fast! Alas! what is my fate since I began To plot? Incessantly forced further back From the longed-for goal, and threatened with the loss Of everything when we at last do triumph! And 'midst a thousand perils overwhelmed By countless insults! Trampled under foot By the vile tyrant, slighted by the slaves! Draw back? into th' abyss! Go forward, then? O'er molten lava!—Overton or Cromwell! Victim or executioner!—How now! He, draw his sword 'gainst me! But he would do it! That he is capable thereof I know.