Mil. I will, I do!
Crom. Now I could hew my way
Amidst a thousand. Give me my steel cap,
My sword and iron greaves, my vant-braces:
I will array in proof.
What is the shock
Of living squadrons to the armed thoughts,
Whose dark battalions I have just now quell'd?
I would the clouds of battle roll'd around
This moment. Lo! my spirit is reviv'd
Like Samson's, when he drank at Ramath-lehi—
Enter IRETON and IRONSIDES, L.
What is it?
Ire. Mutiny! The soldiers swear That they will have their right—
Crom. Their right, said'st thou?
Come, Ireton, you and I will give them it;
But, by the Lord, they'll wish for wrong again
Ere I have done with them.
Ire. 'Twere best to take Your faithful guard—
Crom. I'll take none. What! They are
Mine own. I'll deal with them.
If thou dost fear,
Son Ireton, stay behind. What! be afraid
Of my own rascals I have drill'd and led
So frequently?
Come on, I did but need
This pretty farce to stir me. Mutiny!
I'll strike the leaders' heads off, at the head
Each of his column—
Follow me, son Ireton!
No other—