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.)