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 Cromwell.I am not paid. Murray. Not paid! Upon my word! Old soldiers so ill-used! I pity you. Cromwell [aside. He pities me! Murray. To keep him, without pay! Cromwell's a tyrant! Cromwell [aside.] Here we go again! Murray.My anger chokes me! Cromwell [aside.] Touching interest! Murray [taking his hand. I fain would succour you, and, more than that, Avenge you. Cromwell. What! avenge me? Murray. Ay, on Cromwell. Cromwell.On Cromwell? Murray. Open yonder gate to us. Let Judith be struck down by Holofernes. Cromwell.Nay, Holofernes rather, should'st thou say, By Judith. You misquote your Bible, sir. Murray.Well said. Cromwell.Your beard, methinks, is something black For Judith. Murray [aside.]Why the deuce did I recall That tale? For Judith was, in fact, a woman. What odds?
 * [Aloud.]My friend, to Cromwell while he sleeps,

Let us have access. 'Twill advantage thee. Cromwell.Ah! think'st thou so? Murray. What matters it to thee That half a score of men pass through yon gate? At this blest moment fortune comes to thee While thou 'rt asleep, as 'twere. Cromwell. Asleep, thou say'st?