Soldiers. A Cromwell!  Cromwell!  Let us come on!

Crom. The sun that stood in Heaven, Until his beams grew red with two days’ blood Of slaughtered Canaan, shall see them flee like chaff before us—­

Soldiers. Joshua! cry aloud, A Joshua!—­

Crom. These gay Philistine lords That fight for Dagon, will ye fly them, or Hurl them and Dagon down?—­

Soldiers. A Samson!  Samson!

[Distant cannon heard.  Cheering from the Soldiers.]

Will. [Aside.] Here’s gory enthusiasm!  Now whilst every man is ready to preach individually on his own account, and the whole collectively are about to sing a psalm, I will endeavour to steal away unperceived, lest any of them, imagining himself somewhere between Deuteronomy and Kings, should take it upon himself to proclaim that I come from Gibeon, and so—­

Crom. [To William.] Hither! sirrah!  It is well I know the master that thou servest, or else thy back had paid the license of thy speech.  Tell him I would speak with him two hours hence in his own quarters. [Exit William, U.E.L.] Good friend, [to a soldier] I am thirsty in the flesh.  Get me, I prithee, a cup of thine ale. [Soldier goes out.] [To another soldier.] Give me thy pipe, Ruxton! is it right Trinidado?—­[To them all.] Think ye now, the generals fare better than ye do—­I mean now, Desborough or Rossiter, or our brave Ireton?

A Soldier. Ay! do they.  But just now we saw a store of good things carried into Desborough’s tent.  Lo! there goes Jepherson and Fight-the-good-Fight Egerton this instant to feast on the fat things of the earth. [Here the soldier gives him a cup of ale.]

Crom. [Pausing ere he drinks.] What is thy name, friend?

A Soldier. [Near.] Born-again Rumford.

Crom. A babe, I do protest, a babe of grace.  See you not, he cannot speak himself. [Drinks, and throws the remainder over Born-again Rumford’s beard.  Returns the cup and prepares his pipe.] Now, Born-again!  I think thou art baptized again! [The soldiers laugh.] So there is feasting and gluttony amongst our captains.  Hearken ye, I shall call a conference straightway.  When the generals be come, which they will do with sore grumbling, then do ye fall to and spare not!  I will stand between you and the fierce wrath of them that be spoiled.  Three rolls on the kettledrum shall be the signal.  See that ye leave nothing. [Going, L.]

[As he goes he strikes his pipe on the back of the corslet of one of the soldiers; so that the ashes fall on his neck.]

Sol. Now may the devil!

Crom. Ho! swearest thou?—­fy! fy! for shame, Orderly officer! set Hezekiah Sin-Despise down in thy book five shillings for an oath.  Truly Sin-Despise is no fitting name for thee, but rather ‘Overcome-by-Sin.’  Come, as I did tempt thy railing, I will pay thy fine. [Gives him money.] Tush! grin not so, man.  I thought my Ironsides were proof against fire as well as steel. [Exit, L.]