_Ire._ Come, let us go: I cannot pray or wrestle in the spirit; But let us talk of earthly fights and toils. I love fat quarters in a Bishopric As well as any preacher of us all. _Har._ Come, men, to quarters-- In four hours' time we march To join Lord Essex--see your girths are slack'd, Your pistols prim'd, your beasts fed, and your souls Watching for grace, the word is "Kill and slay"-- 'Twere best all eat, for I will fast and pray. [_Exeunt HARRISON and IRETON, R.S.E._] _A Soldier._ [_To William._] I say, wilt thou discourse? _2nd Sold._ Give him a text. _3rd Sold._ He lacketh speech--He is a dumb Amalekite. _1st Sold._ I will even awaken him with a prick of my sword. _Host._ Nay! he is strong in the word. [_To William._] Preach something, if thou beest wise. _Will._ What the devil!-- _3rd Sold._ Ay! uplift thy voice against Beelzebub. _Host._ Thou couldst talk fast enough just now. _Will._ Gurton! for this I will undo thee. Newborn! thou didst just now water thine ale. Hezekiah! thou dissemblest, which is more than thy wife used to do; for she feared thee not. _Host._ I pity thee, and will say no more. _1st Sold._ Here is a stool, let him mount thereon. _Will._ These be ignorant knaves. I will practice on them. It may come to good. [_Mounts the stool._] The Lord leadeth his people through the wilderness to salvation, crinkeldom cum crankeldom. [_Mutters to himself._] _Soldiers._ Hum! _Will._ Of all thirsts, there be none like that after righteousness.--[_Mutters to himself._] _Soldiers._ Hum! _Will._ [Aside.] For strong ale, which I think hath to do with the conversion of this Gurton. [_Mutters to himself._] _1st Sold._ Lift thy voice higher, that we stumble not in the dark. _Will._ [_Aside._] I would I could remember a text--anything will do--[_Aloud._] The General Cromwell hath, they say, a red nose, and doth never spit white, which I look upon as a great sign, as was the burning bush to Moses! _2nd Sold._ Ha! Blasphemest thou? _3rd Sold._ He scoffeth! _4th Sold._ Down with him. _Host._ O fool! There will be blood spilt! [_They drag WILLIAM down (the HOST vainly endeavouring to interfere) and buffet him; as Sin-Despise draws his sword, the trumpets sound outside to saddle._] [_Enter HARRISON, R.S.E._] _Har._ Why dally ye? Away! Smite hip and thigh. To horse, to horse! what ho! Zerubbabel! Mount, mount, I say, for bloody Goring's near-- To saddle, ho! [_They immediately fall into line, and leave quickly, L. The trumpets are still heard sounding. Exeunt all but HOST and WILLIAM, who arranges his collar and adjusts himself._] _Host._ [Breathless.] What thinkest thou of this? _Will._ Think! what of? Thy late wife's virtue? I would she were here.