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 'Tis manifest by their high, lordly air They're of my Lord Protector's regiment. [The soldiers form in a double line from the throne to the door.

These officers of Ahab doublets wear Of silk! A Young Sentry [pushing him into the crowd. Stand back, my friend! Overton [to the Soldier, in an undertone. How rough he is! These bravos have assumed the tyrant's airs. Already doth the raw recruit insult A veteran! The Soldier [pressing his hand.] Patience! The Officer [to his men.] The Holy Ghost Doth here convoke us. For our general Let us together pray. Overton [to the Officer.] Your general? Say, rather, for your king. The Officer. What! he, our king? Who dares insult him thus? Overton. I. The Officer. Then, you lie. Overton.Nay. The Officer. Cromwell, king! May the good God forbid! Overton.He will be king to-day. The Officer. Who says so?

Overton. Look!