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.