It is not mortal. You are sure of that?
The Surgeon:
He is hurt, grievously, but he will live now.
Cromwell:
The danger is gone?
The Surgeon:
Yes. But it will be slow.
Ireton:
Whalley—there—in God's name, man. Tell Spilsby to beat down under General Cromwell. There's not a minute to lose. Whalley—that's good—come—no man—left—left—now, once more. God is our strength.
Cromwell: