_Cromwell:_
That's what they said.

(BRIDGET returns with a foaming pot of ale, which she gives to AMOS.)

_Cromwell_
(drinking):
To freedom, John. That's good sherry. I respect not such ill reasoners
as would keep all wine out of the country lest men should be drunk. Now,
Amos. Come along, John, my touch was good last night. I shall beat you.

(He goes out on to the lawn beyond the window, with HAMPDEN and IRETON.
They are seen passing to and fro, playing bowls.)

_Amos_
(singing:)
When I shall in the churchyard lie,
Poor scholar though I be,
The wheat, the barley, and the rye
Will better wear for me.

For truly have I ploughed and sown,
And kept my acres clean;
And written on my churchyard stone
This character be seen:

"His flocks, his barns, his gear he made
His daily diligence,
Nor counted all his earnings paid
In pockets full of pence."