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His conquering head has no more room for bays
Let the rich ore forthwith be melted down,
And the state fixed by making him a crown;
With ermine clad and purple, let him hold
A royal sceptre, made of Spanish gold.
For a moment the question of a sovereign for
England seemed but to relate to the
Protector Cromwell and the army, or King Cromwell and the army; and, for the last time,
Cromwell hoped, through a parliament to reconcile his dominion to the
English people, and to take a place in the line of English kings.
For a season the majority was not unwilling; the scruples of the more honest among the timid he overcame by levity.
Our oath, he would say, is not against the three letters that make the word
Rex. ‘Royalty is but a feather in a man's cap; let children enjoy their rattle.’
1 But here his ambition was destined to a disappointment; the Presbyterians, ever his opponents, found on this point allies in many officers of the army; and
Owen,
2 afterwards elected president of Harvard College, draughted for them a powerful and effectual remonstrance.
In view of his own elevation,
Cromwell had established an upper house; its future members to be nominated by the protector, yet in concurrence with the peers.
But the wealth of the ancient hereditary nobility continued; its splendor was not yet forgotten; the new peerage, exposed to the contrast, excited ridicule without giving strength to
Cromwell; the house of commons continually spurned at their power, and controverted their title.
This last parlia-
ment was also dissolved.
Unless
Cromwell could exterminate the Catholics, convert the inflexible Presbyterians, chill the loyalty of the royalists, and corrupt