1st Troop. What say the generals?
2nd Troop. Our own Cromwell is very prompt; but the rest chafe much, and the Scots are sore backsliders.
3rd Troop. I would we might be led on and the trumpets sounded, that the walls of yon Jericho might fall about their ears, and deliver them into our hands alive.
Will. Worthy martialist! may I speak?
1st Troop. Ay so?
Will. Is the King there in person?
2nd Troop. Surely not; he is in that city of abomination, Oxford.
[Here CROMWELL enters, U.E.R., with his face covered.]
Will. Is it not true that ye did ask them that guard the city to yield it in the King's name?
2nd Troop. I heard the message: it was so worded.