Arth. If they do oppose?

Crom. Thy brother is a worker in my hands,
Leave him to me; the old man loves his wealth
Too well.  I say, go quickly, and return
With speed direct—­I’d have thee near me, [Aside.] for
Thy noble confidence that dares to speak
The first-fruits of thy mind,—­
I have regard [Aloud.]
For thee, young man, see that you keep it warm
As now—­but mind, no swords, as ye are brothers—­
Not e’en reproach.—­Sweet heart, when foolish mercy
[To his daughter.]
Doth beg an idle tale from thy dear lips,
Perchance thou’lt seek thy father—­until then,
All good be with thee! [Crosses to R.]
Sir!  I will direct [To Arthur.]
A present escort for you.

[Exit CROMWELL, R.]

Arth. Lady! deem My heart coin’d into words to thank you nothing For payment of this service.

Eliz. Sympathy
Is just as often born of happiness,
As bitter suffering of the world’s contempt. 
Within the magic circle of a home,
Happy and loved as mine is,
The heart is touched with pity’s gentle wand
To do her lightest bidding—­
But in this,
There is no kind emotion worth the name;
For I would see my school-fellow and friend
To talk old nothings, something still to us,
And look beneath the lashes of her eyes,
To learn her plaint against the selfish world,
And read her trust in Heaven—­
Is she fair
As childhood promised ?—­[Looking archly at Arthur.]
Do you know, I think
You love her more than cousinship demands?

Arth. Nay! she is worthy of all love.

Eliz. Well, well, sir!  I shall know when I see you both together.

Exeunt ELIZABETH, R., ARTHUR, L.

SCENE II.

[1st Cut.] [2nd Grooves.]

A Hall in a Manor House.—­Discovered SIR SIMON, in an easy chair, supported by servants, BASIL and FLORENCE attending.

Sir Sim. I am thy father.  Would’st kill me, girl?  O dear!  I saw Master Stacker, the court physician that was, to-day. [Coughs.] Oh, I am very ill.

Flor. Dear father! what said he?

Sir Sim. That I have a disease of the heart.  Now I don’t agree with him.  There he is mistaken.  Why I might die instantly with a disease of the heart.  He is a clever man, but quite mistaken there.  You see, my heart never beats fast, but when I am agitated, and I was out of breath this morning with the stairs—­O dear! [Places his hand to his heart.] Thou dost agitate me, girl—­but there is no disease here—­no! no!  I am very ill—­but I shall not die yet!

Flor. Dear father! pray be careful.

Sir Sim. Now, had he said ’twas asthma—­’tis a long-lived complaint.  I have known very old men with asthma.  Our chirurgeon, Master Gilead Stubbs, said I was asthmatic, and we have been much together.  Many a good flagon of claret have we drank, and should he not know my constitution?