_Fairfax:_
Not yet.

_Cromwell:_
Let it be, "God our strength." Gentlemen.

(They all rise, and, bareheaded, together they repeat, "God our
strength.")

THE SCENE CLOSES




SCENE V


_The same tent. Night--with torches and candles. An aide stands at the
tent opening. The sentries pass to and fro. It is after the action.
IRETON, severely wounded, is on a couch, surgeons attending him.
CROMWELL, himself battered and with a slight head wound, stands by the
couch._

_Cromwell:_
It is not mortal. You are sure of that?

_The Surgeon:_
He is hurt, grievously, but he will live now.

_Cromwell:_