_Ire._ [Apart to Cromwell.] How the pampered boar frets!

_Crom._ [_To Desborough._] Will you to my tent?--I
can give you a soldier's fare, with a soldier's welcome,
a crust and cup of ale, and we can discourse what
remains.

_An Officer._ Indeed we are engaged; but if the
General Cromwell would honour us--

_Crom._ I thank you, I have supped ere you have dined.

[_Drum rolls. A loud shout of merriment and clatter is heard._]

_Des._ What is that--in my tent too!

[_Looking off, R. WILLIAM comes forward, R._]

By Heaven! rank mutiny. I'll have them shot.

_Will._ Nay! worthy sir, knock out the priming of
your wrath from the matchlock of your vengeance,
and abide till to-morrow, when you shall see many
a stout fellow and gormandizer to boot levelled. [_To
Cromwell._] Great Sir! they complain that the wine
is thin.

_Crom._ Go purchase some strong waters. [_Gives
him money._] I must not have my fellows' stomachs
unsettled. Here, thou graceless knave.