or this end:
That I should render for my part
A thankful heart,
Which, fired with incense, I resign
As wholly Thine:
But the acceptance--that must be,
O Lord, by Thee.

Mr. Herrick has chosen a nice name for his book. Hesperides. He has
taste as well as understanding.

(The sound of horsemen arriving is heard.)

_Elizabeth:_
That will be John and Mr. Ireton.

(She looks from the window, puts her work into a box, and goes out.)

_Mrs. Cromwell_
(turning her pages):

Ye have been fresh and green,
Ye have been filled with flowers,
And ye the walks have been
Where maids have spent their hours.

Like unthrifts, having spent
Your stock, and needy grown,
You're left here to lament
Your poor estates alone.

(ELIZABETH comes back with JOHN HAMPDEN, aged forty-four, and HENRY
IRETON, twenty-eight. They both shake hands with MRS. CROMWELL.)

_Hampden:_
How do you do, ma'am?

_Mrs. Cromwell:_
Well, John.

_Ireton:_
Good-evening, ma'am.

_Mrs. Cromwell:_
You're welcome, Master Ireton, I'm sure. If you behave yourself, young
man.

_Ireton:_
How may that be, ma'am?

_Mrs. Cromwell:_
No, don't ask me. Only don't you and John come putting more notions into
Oliver's head. I'm sure he's got more than he can rightly manage as it
is.

_Hampden:_
We were told down there that it's to-morrow that my Lord of Bedford and
his like are to claim the common rights.

_Elizabeth:_
Yes.

_Ireton:_
Mr. Cromwell is to resist, they said.

_Mrs. Cromwell:_
Now, young man, Oliver doesn't need any urging to it. He needs holding
back.

_Hampden:_
But that's fine for Oliver. Every man must speak to-day--and do as well,
if it comes to it.

_Mrs. Cromwell:_
Yes, but don't be so proud about it, John.

_Elizabeth:_
I think they should be proud.

_Mrs. Cromwell:_
Remember what Mr. Herbert says--
A servant with this clause
Makes drudgerie divine.
Who sweeps a room, as for thy laws,
Makes that and th' action fine.
As for thy laws, remember.

_Hampden:_
Surely, we shall remember that always.

(BRIDGET comes in.)

_Bridget:_
Cousin John.

_Hampden:_
Well, Bridget, my girl.

(He kisses her.)

_Bridget:_
How do you do, Mr. Ireton?

_Ireton_
(shaking hands):
Well, I thank you, mistress.

_Bridget:_
Does father know, mother?

_Elizabeth:_
I've sent down to the field.

_Mrs. Cromwell:_
He'll be here soon enough. I'm sorry the judges were against