_Ireton:_
You shape my service. In you shall all the figures of my service dwell.
Will he take this kindly?
_Bridget:_
Surely. He loves you, he has said it often.
(CROMWELL returns.)
_Bridget:_
Father, Henry Ireton has to speak to you.
_Cromwell:_
Eh?
_Ireton:_
Yes, Mr. Cromwell.
_Cromwell:_
Quite so. Mr. Cromwell. That's very interesting now, isn't it?
_Ireton:_
By your leave I would marry Bridget.
_Cromwell:_
I dare say. You would be a very foolish young man else. And, what of
Bridget's leave?
_Bridget:_
He has that.
_Cromwell:_
I should think so, too. Well?
_Ireton:_
You consent?
_Cromwell:_
I could do nothing more gladly. You have chosen well, both of you. I
rejoice for you. But you must wait until this business we have in hand
is gathered up a little.
_Bridget:_
Yes, father. It is better so.
_Cromwell:_
Let your mother know of the betrothal. I will write as well.
_Bridget:_
To-night.
_Cromwell:_
Seth asked to see you, Henry.
_Ireton:_
Shall we go?
_Bridget:_
Yes.
(BRIDGET and IRETON go.)
(CROMWELL lights a candle, gets paper and pen, and sits at the table
writing. After a few moments MRS. CROMWELL comes in. She carries a large
bunch of keys.
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