Gramadoch.
What haughty scorn! Though like myself thou art
A manikin, less gay is thy grimace.
I say again, Cromwell doth pay us both
To make a little music in this concert,
Where thy voice is the loud church-bell, and mine
The little bell.
The Champion. Villain!
Gramadoch. We may, methinks,
Without disgrace, combat for Oliver,
Or 'gainst him; thou his speaking-trumpet art,
And I his train-bearer.
The Champion [angrily.] What dost thou choose
For weapon?
Gramadoch. Weapon?
[He draws his lath.
Faith! this wooden sword.
[He brandishes it with a warlike air.
'Tis the meet weapon for a man of straw.
On guard, my captain!
[To the crowd.] Battle! battle!
[To the Champion.] Come!
Let 's see if we can make this joust of ours
A pendant to Dunbar; and if thy sword
Durandal is the peer of my Escalibar!
[To the crowd.
Come you and watch.
[Pointing to Milton.
Saving yon blind man's wrath,
The contest 'twixt a Falstaff who doth sing,
And a Stentor who doth bellow. Come and see
A buffoon thrash a bravo.
Overton [to Syndercomb, in an undertone.
This whole scene
To my mind hath a look of pre-arrangement.
Page:CromwellHugo.djvu/385
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ACT FIFTH. THE WORKMEN
373
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