I can say this of Naseby. When I saw the enemy draw up and march in gallant order towards us, and we, a company of poor ignorant men to seek how to order our battle,--the General having commanded me to order all the horse,--I could not, riding along about my business, but smile out to God in my praises, in assurance of victory, (the Psalm is heard again) because God would, by things that are not, bring to naught the things that are. Of which I had great assurance, and God did it. (The singing still heard) THE SCENE CLOSES SCENE VI _An evening in November, 1647. A room in Hampton Court, where CHARLES THE FIRST, now a prisoner with the army, is lodged._ _At a table, writing, is NEAL, the King's secretary. He finishes his document, and, going to a bureau, locks it away. He returns to the table, and, taking up an unopened envelope, examines it carefully. As he is doing so CHARLES enters from an inner room._ _Charles:_ From Hamilton? _Neal:_ Yes, sire. _Charles:_ Has it been opened? _Neal:_ I think not. (CHARLES takes the letter, opens and reads it.) _Charles:_ Good. The commissioners from Scotland are in London. They are prepared to hear from us. _Neal:_ Andrews goes to London to-night. He is to be trusted. _Charles:_ Everything begins to move for us again. To-morrow they will miss us here, eh, Neal? In a week we should be at Carisbrooke. _Neal:_ Do not be too confident, sire. Things have miscarried before. _Charles:_ But not this time, Neal, believe me. Their House and their army are at odds. I've seen to that. It has gained time, and perplexed their resolution. And now Scotland will strike again, and this time mortally. Yes, the end will be with us, mark me. _Ned:_ May Your Majesty reckon truly. _Charles:_ Is Cromwell coming to-night? _Ned:_ He said not. _Charles:_ Strangely, the fellow grows on me. But he's a fool, Neal. Brave, but a fool. He sees nothing. Indeed, he's too dull. Ireton too--they are heavy stuff. Clods. Poor country. She needs us again truly. To check such mummers as these--all means are virtuous for that, Neal, eh? _Neal:_ Your Majesty knows. _Charles:_ Yes, we need no counsel. You are sure that Cromwell was not coming to-night. _Neal:_ That was as he said, sire. _Charles:_ Then let us consider. These Scots. What was it? Did you set it down? _Neal:_ Yes, sire. (He gets the paper that he put in the bureau, and gives it to CHARLES.) _Charles_ (reading it): Yes. Write. (NEAL does so on a large folio sheet.)