Brethren, the God who furthers our designs
Doth give unto his saints all this world's goods.
So this is ours. When Cromwell 'neath our blows
Has fallen, we may share his earthly spoils.
Barebones.Not so! Great Heav'n! my cloth of gold, my silks!
Syndercomb.Of Liban's eagles is the golden calf
The lawful prey!
Barebones. Eagles! Say, rather, crows!
Wouldst thou—
Overton [separating them.] My friends, first let us strike the blow;
Then we will settle our accounts.
All. Amen!
Barebones [aside.]Damnation! They are pirates—nothing less!
Their aim is pillage! Brigands! ingrates, all!
To Sion they will force me to be false!
Divide my goods amongst them all! Damnation!
Overton [to the Roundheads, who gather about him.
Awaiting the glad hour when Israel,
Upon his throne, shall battle hand-to-hand
Against the King of Babylon, my brethren,
And raise, through us, 'gainst Oliver the First
The standard with the palm-tree and the harp,
Let six of us take station in the hall.
Of the body-guard.
All. 'Tis well.
Overton [continuing.] And twelve will stand
Before the halberdiers, their daggers hidden,
Upon the steps where Richard once bestowed
The spur on Norfolk; in the Court of Aids
Four more, and four within the Court of Wards.
