Oliver Cromwell | Page 3

when Cousin John's case was tried?
Ireton: Yes.
Bridget: It was splendid, wasn't it--although he lost, I mean?
Ireton: It was the note of deliverance.
Bridget: I wish I could have been there, Cousin John.
Mrs. Cromwell: Will you give me my shawl, Henry Ireton. (He does so.) There's Oliver coming. Now you can all be thunder.
Bridget: Now, grandmother, you know you don't think it's just that.
Mrs. Cromwell: So you have hope for me yet, miss?
Bridget: Grandmother.
(CROMWELL comes in. He is in plain country dress. His age is forty.)
Cromwell: John--it's good to see you. You're an hour before reckoning. (Taking HAMPDEN'S hand.)
Hampden: Yes, Oliver. Is all well?
Cromwell: Not that--but our courage is well enough. You are very welcome, Henry. (Taking his hand.) Was it good travelling?
Ireton: Not a bad mile on the journey.
Bridget: Father, Mr. Ireton heard Cousin John's case tried. Wasn't he lucky?
Cromwell: Whoever heard that heard history being made, John. It was a great example to set.
Hampden: One works from the spirit, Oliver.
Cromwell: That's what we must do. You've heard about this affair down here?
Hampden: The common? Yes.
Cromwell: There's to be no yielding about that.
Hampden: I'm glad of it, Oliver.
Mrs. Cromwell: What will it all come to, John?
Cromwell: There are times, mother, when we may not count the cost.
Mrs. Cromwell: You're very vexatious sometimes, Oliver.
Cromwell: But you know I'm right in this, mother.
Mrs. Cromwell: Being right doesn't make you less vexatious.
Elizabeth: Have they finished in Long Close?
Cromwell: Yes. They will be here soon.
Bridget: They all come up from the field for prayers, Mr. Ireton, at the day's end.
Hampden: Is your hay good, Oliver?
Cromwell: I haven't much down this year. What there is, is good.
Hampden: We got the floods too late. But it has mended well enough.
Bridget: The dancers came for some money, father.
Elizabeth: Shall I give them something?
Cromwell: To be sure.
Elizabeth: How much?
Cromwell: Oh--a crown or two.
Hampden: Dancers?
Cromwell: Aye, John. Don't you hold with them?
Hampden: They're no offence, perhaps--but I'm never quite sure.
Cromwell: Oh, but be sure, John. We must make no mistake about that. They are lovely, the dancers. I'm all for singing and dancing. The Lord is one to sing and dance, I'll be bound.
Mrs. Cromwell: Now you talk sense, Oliver. Mr. Herrick is very clear about that. So was David.
Ireton: Who is Mr. Herrick, ma'am?
Mrs. Cromwell: He's a poet, young man. And he's for being quiet, and not bustling about everywhere. You ought to read him.
Ireton: Do you know Mr. Herrick's work, Mr. Hampden?
Hampden: I've nothing to say against that, though it's not very serious.
Mrs. Cromwell: Don't be silly, Mr. Hampden--if you excuse me for saying so. Mr. Herrick is very serious indeed, only he isn't always telling us of it.
Hampden: Yes: perhaps you're right, ma'am. I prefer George Herbert.
Bridget: Yes, I like his book, too, Cousin John.
Mrs. Cromwell: Well, it's no bad judgment to stand for Mr. Herbert. Only I won't have nonsense talked about Mr. Herrick.
Elizabeth: Are you ready, Oliver? They are coming.
Oliver: Yes. (To HAMPDEN and IRETON.) Friends, you are welcome to this house.
(The labourers from the farm are gathering outside the window. The people in the room form towards them.)
Cromwell: Brethren in God, at the end of another day's labour we are met to praise Him from whom are the means to labour and its rewards. As we go about these fields, He is with us. As you deal by me, and I by you, His eye sees us. Nothing good befalls us but it is by His will, no affliction is ours but His loving mercy will hear us. The Lord God walks at our hand. He is here now in our midst. His desires are our freedom, His wrath our tyranny one over another. Be very merciful in all your ways, for mercy is His name. May His counsel be always with our little fellowship. If I should fail towards any man, let him speak. May we be as brothers always, one to another. And may we serve Him to serve whom alone is wisdom. In Jesus Christ's name, Amen. "All people that on earth do dwell."
(They sing:)
All people that on earth do dwell, Sing to the Lord, with cheerful voice; Him serve with fear, his praise forth tell, Come ye before Him and rejoice.
The Lord, we know, is God indeed. Without our aid He did us make; We are his folk, He doth us feed, And for his sheep He doth us take.
O enter then his gate with praise, Approach with joy his courts unto; Praise, laud, and bless his name always, For it is seemly so to do.
(As the men move away, one of them, SETH TANNER, comes forward.)
Seth: As I came up from Long Close I stopped at the ale-house. Two fellows were there from the Earl of Bedford. Talking they were.
Cromwell: What had they to say?
Seth: It seems they know