"For that cause in which I would lay them down—the cause of liberty."
Oliver Cromwell went to the fire and stared down at the cracking logs, through which the thin flames spurted.
"These arguments whistle like the wind in an empty drum," he said. "We must not think of peace until we have gained that for which we made war. Is the moment when the King is victorious the moment to ask his terms?"
"What instrument have we to defeat the King?" demanded my lord.
"One can be forged," replied Oliver Cromwell. "I do believe, as I told that very noble person, Mr. Hampden, that the King hath so far gained the advantage because the blood and breeding is in his ranks—as I said to my cousin, decayed serving men and tapsters will not fight like gentlemen—therefore if we have not as yet gentle blood, let us get the spirit of the Lord: faith will inspire as well as birth, my lord. I have now myself a lovely troop, honest men, clean livers, eager devourers of the Word, and had I ten times as many I would put them with great confidence against Rupert's godless gentlemen."
"Your troop is mostly fanatic, Anabaptist, Independent—full of sermons and groans," said my lord. "Extreme men, by your leave, Colonel Cromwell, and full of religious disputations."
"Admit they be—they are all enthusiasts, they fight for God, not pay—as Charles' gentlemen fight for loyalty, not pay—and, sir, I prefer them who know what they fight for, and love that they know, to any lukewarm hireling who will mutiny when his pence are in arrear."
"You yourself are an Independent," remarked the Earl dryly. "I had forgot."
"Sir, I belong to no sect; within the limits of the true faith I would let each man think as he would."
"So tolerant!" cried my lord. "Then wherefore have you pulled the preacher from his pulpit in Ely Church?"