ence
everywhere. Father says that Cousin John Hampden says--

_Mrs. Cromwell:_
And that's three of you in one house. And this young Mr. Ireton has
ideas, too, I believe.

_Bridget:_
Mr. Ireton is twenty-eight.

_Mrs. Cromwell:_
That accounts for it.

_Bridget:_
You don't think they just ought to be allowed to take the common away,
do you, grandmother?

_Mrs. Cromwell:_
It makes no matter what I think.

_Bridget:_
Of course you don't. None of us do. We couldn't.

_Elizabeth:_
You mustn't tease your grandmother, Bridget.

_Mrs. Cromwell:_
She's a very old lady, and can't speak for herself.

_Bridget:_
I meant no ill manners, grandmother.

_Mrs. Cromwell:_
Never mind your manners child. But don't encourage your father. He
doesn't need it. This house is all commotion as it is.

_Bridget:_
I can't help it. There's so much going on everywhere. The King doesn't
deal fairly by people, I'm sure. Men like father must say it.

_Elizabeth:_
Have you put the lavender in the rooms?

_Bridget:_
No. I'll take it now.

(She takes a tray from the window and goes out.)

_Mrs. Cromwell:_
I don't know what will happen. I sometimes think the world isn't worth
quarrelling about at all. And yet I'm a silly old woman to talk like
that. But Oliver is a brave fellow--and John, all of them. I want them
to be brave in peace--that's the way you think at eighty.
(Reading.)
This Mr. Donne is a very good poet, but he's rather hard to understand.
I suppose that is being eighty, too. Mr. Herrick is very simple. John
Hampden sent me some copies from a friend who knows Mr. Herrick. I like
them better than John does.
(She takes up a manuscript book and reads:)

Lord, Thou hast given me a cell
Wherein to dwell;
A little house, whose humble roof
Is waterproof;
Under the spars of which I lie
Both soft and dry....

But Mr. Shakespeare was best of all, I do believe. A very civil
gentleman, too. I spoke to him once--that was forty years ago, the year
Oliver was born, I remember. He didn't hold with all this talk against
kings.

_Elizabeth:_
There are kings and kings. Oliver finds no offence in kings--it's in a
king.

_Mrs. Cromwell:_
Well, it's all very dangerous, and I'm too old for it. Not but what
Oliver's brain is better than mine. But we have to sit still and watch.
However--
(reading)

Lord, 'tis thy plenty-dropping hand
That sows my land:
All this, and better, dost thou send
Me f