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Drinkwater, John, 1882-1937

"Oliver Cromwell"


_Ireton:_
Yes. To the west. That there should be that even in the mind!
_Fairfax:_
In that case, the baggage is my concern.
(Outside is heard a low murmur of excitement.)
_Fairfax:_
Staines, will you tell Conway that five hundred of his best men must
dispute the Naseby road to the east. And let Mitchell command under him.
_Staines:_
Yes, sir.
(The noise outside grows.)
_Pemberton:_
What is it?
_Fairfax:_
See.
(PEMBERTON goes to the tent opening and looks out.)
_Pemberton:_
Our men are watching something. It is something moving. Horsemen--it
must be.
(The excitement grows and grows. IRETON joins PEMBERTON.)
_Ireton:_
There is something.
_Fairfax:_
Gentlemen, let us promise ourselves nothing.
(IRETON and PEMBERTON move into the tent at FAIRFAX'S word. As they do
so the voices outside break out into a great
shout--"_Ironsides--Ironsides--Ironsides is coming to lead us!_" The
scout comes in, glowing.)
_Fairfax_
(rising):
Yes?
_The Scout:_
General Cromwell is riding into the field with his Ironsides, sir, some
six hundred strong.
_Fairfax:_
Thank God!
(CROMWELL comes into the tent, fully armed, hot and dusty from the road.
The shouting dies away, but outside there is a sound as of new life
until the end of the scene.


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