am thirsty in the flesh. Get me, I prithee, a cup of thine
ale. [_Soldier goes out._] [_To another soldier._] Give me
thy pipe, Ruxton! is it right Trinidado?--[_To them
all._] Think ye now, the generals fare better than ye
do--I mean now, Desborough or Rossiter, or our
brave Ireton?

_A Soldier._ Ay! do they. But just now we saw a
store of good things carried into Desborough's tent.
Lo! there goes Jepherson and Fight-the-good-Fight
Egerton this instant to feast on the fat things of the
earth. [_Here the soldier gives him a cup of ale._]

_Crom._ [_Pausing ere he drinks._] What is thy
name, friend?

_A Soldier._ [_Near._] Born-again Rumford.

_Crom._ A babe, I do protest, a babe of grace. See
you not, he cannot speak himself. [_Drinks, and
throws the remainder over Born-again Rumford's
beard. Returns the cup and prepares his pipe._] Now,
Born-again! I think thou art baptized again! [_The
soldiers laugh._] So there is feasting and gluttony
amongst our captains. Hearken ye, I shall call a
conference straightway. When the generals be come,
which they will do with sore grumbling, then do ye
fall to and spare not! I will stand between you and
the fierce wrath of them that be spoiled. Three rolls
on the kettledrum shall be the signal. See that ye