Aside to the Host._] Dost think the gentleman eats suppers?

_Ire._ A plague upon his damn'd repentant fancies!

_Har._ [_Still to himself._] 'Twas on the heath,
As he did gripe and hold it from his breast,
He cut my blade with fifty pallid fingers,
On his knees, crying out
He had at home an old and doating father;
And yet I slew him!
There was a ribbon round his neck
That caught in the hilt of my sword.
A stripling, and so long a dying? Why
'Tis most unnatural!

_Host._ [_Aside to William._] I would not have his
conscience to be vintner to the Parliament.

_Will._ [_To Host._] Nor I, for my master to be a
fat-witted Duke, and I his chief serving-man.

_Ire._ Here we need counsel, and he raves of dreams
And devils. Yet, 'tis true, he fights as if
He were possess'd by them.
Come, Harrison!
Will you not hear how fortune dawns upon us?--

_Har._ Ay! indeed--
Excuse me, Ireton, I was something absent;
I think my health of late is shatter'd much.
Sometimes I talk aloud. Did I not speak
But now of Joab in the Bible,
And how he did slay Abner?--
Thou know'st I read the Scripture very oft.

_A Trooper._ Ay! he goes to bed with it under his
pillow, lest the evil one should prevail. Desborough
told him of it.

_Har._ Heard you of Falkland's death?

_Ire._ At Newbury?--
I did. On either side, in this sad war
The good and noble seem the ripest fruit,
And so fall first.

_Har._ Thus let them perish, all
That strive against the Lord.
Is Cromwell nigh?--

_Ire._ He will be here anon.

_Har._ [_To himself._] The mighty men
Of Israel slew _all_. It was a sin
To spare the child in the womb.
I am a fool
To shiver thus to think that night must come.
The lion trembles at the sun's eclipse,
But, not for murder of the innocent lamb.
Who walks across my grave?--

_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.