Act Iv.

Scene I. A Chamber in La. Desbro’s House. Candles, and Lights.

Enter L. Desbro and Freeman.

L. Des. By what strange Miracle, my dearest Freeman, wert thou set at liberty?

Free. On the zealous Parole of Rabbie Ananias; that Rhetorick that can convert whole Congregations of well-meaning Blockheads to errant Knaves, has now mollify’d my Keeper; I’m to be render’d back within this Hour: let’s not, my dear Maria, lose the precious minutes this Reverend Hypocrite has given us.

L. Des. Oh! you are very gay, have you forgot whose Prisoner you are, and that perhaps, e’er many Days are ended, they may hang you for High-Treason against the Commonwealth? they never want a good thorow-stitch’d Witness to do a Murder lawfully.

Free. No matter, then I shall die with Joy, Maria, when I consider, that you lov’d so well to give me the last Proof on’t.

L. Des. Are you in earnest, Freeman? and wou’d you take what Honour will not suffer me to grant?

Free. With all my Heart, Honour’s a poor Excuse. 389 Your Heart and Vows (your better part) are mine; you’ve only lent your Body out to one whom you call Husband, and whom Heaven has mark’d for Cuckoldom. Nay, ’tis an Act of honest Loyalty, so to revenge our Cause; whilst you were only mine, my honest Love thought it a Sin to press these Favours from you; ’twas injuring my self as well as thee; but now we only give and take our Right.

L. Des. No more, my Husband’s old—

Free. Right, my dear Maria, and therefore—

L. Des. —May possibly die—

Free. He will be hang’d first.

L. Des. —I hope so—either of which will do our Bus’ness—unreasonable Freeman, not to have Patience till my Husband be hang’d a little.

Free. But what if Destiny put the Change upon us, and I be hang’d instead of Desbro?

L. Des. Why then thou art not the first gallant Fellow that has died in the Good and Royal Cause; and a small taste of Happiness will but turn thee off the Ladder with the sadder Heart.

Free. Hast thou the Conscience, lovely as thou art, To deal out all thy Beauty to a Traitor? Is not this Treason of the highest Nature, To rob the Royal Party of such Treasure, And give it to our mortal Enemies? For Shame, be wise, and just, And do not live a Rebel to our Cause; ’Tis Sin enough to have Society with such a wicked Race.

L. Des. But I am married to him.

Free. So much the worse, to make a League and Covenant with such Villains, and keep the sinful Contract; a little harmless Lying and Dissimulation I’ll allow thee, but to be right down honest, ’tis the Devil.

L. Des. This will not do, it never shall be said I’ve been so much debauch’d by Conventicling to turn a sainted Sinner; No, I’m true to my Allegiance still, true to my 390 King and Honour. Suspect my Loyalty when I lose my Virtue: a little time, I’m sure, will give me honestly into thy Arms; if thou hast Bravery, shew it in thy Love.

Free. You will o’ercome, and shame me every way;—but when will this Change come? and till it do, what Pawn will you give me, I shall be happy then?

L. Des. My Honour, and that Happiness you long for, and take but two Months time for their Redemption.

Free. How greedily I’ll seize the Forfeiture!

L. Des. But what am I like to get if this Change do come?

Free. A Slave, and whatever you please to make of him.

L. Des. Who knows, in such an universal Change, how you may alter too?

Free. I’ll give ye Bond and Vows, unkind Maria,—Here take my Hand—Be it known unto all Men, by these Presents, that I, John Freeman of London, Gent, acknowledge my self in Debt to Maria Desbro, the Sum of one Heart, with an incurable Wound; one Soul, destin’d hers from its first Being; and one Body, whole, sound, and in perfect Health; which I here promise to pay to the said Maria, upon Demand, if the aforesaid John Freeman be not hang’d before such Demand made. Whereto I set my Hand—and seal it with my Lips. [In a Tone.

L. Des. And I, in consideration of such Debt, do freely give unto the abovesaid John Freeman, the Heart and Body of the abovesaid Maria Desbro, with all Appurtenances thereto belonging, whenever it shall please Heaven to bring my Husband fairly to the Gallows. [In a Tone.

Free. Amen—kiss the Book— [Kisses her.

L. Des. Hah! that’s Ananias; sure some Danger’s near, the necessary Rascal gives us notice of.

Free. ’Tis so, what wouldst thou have me do?

L. Des. Thou art undone if seen—here, step within this Curtain. [He goes.

391 Enter Ananias, humming, and spreading his Cloak wide; Desbro behind him, puffing in a Chafe.

Des. Ads nigs, what a Change is here like to be?—puff, puff—we have manag’d Matters sweetly—to let the Scotch General undermine us; puff, puff.

L. Des. What’s the Matter?

Des. Nothing, Cockey, nothing, but that we are like to return to our first nothing.

Ana. Yea, verily, when our time’s come; but ah, the great Work of Reformation is not yet fully accomplish’d, which must be wrought by the Saints, and we cannot spare one of them until the Work be finish’d.

Des. Yea, yea, it is finish’d I doubt, puff, puff: fie, fie, what a Change is here!

Ana. Patience, ah, ’tis a precious Virtue!—

Des. Patience, Sir! what, when I shall lose so many fine Estates which did appertain to the Wicked; and which, I trusted, had been establish’d ours, and tell’st thou me of Patience? puff, puff. [Walking fast.

Ana. How! lose ’em, Sir? handle the matter with Patience; I hope the Committee of Safety, or the Rump, will not do an illegal thing to one of the Brethren.

Des. No, no, I have been a trusty Knave to them, and so I have found them all to me: but Monk! Monk! O that ever we should be such blind Fools to trust an honest General!

Ana. Patience, Sir! what of him?

Des. I just now receiv’d private Intelligence, he’s coming out of Scotland with his Forces—puff, puff.

Ana. Why, let him come a Gad’s Name, we have those will give him a civil Salute, if he mean not honourably to the Commonwealth. Patience, Sir.

Des. But if he proves the stronger, and shou’d chance to be so great a Traitor to us, to bring in the Man—the King.

L. Des. How, the King, Husband! the great Heroick!

Free. Death, this Woman is a Sybil: ah, noble Monk!

Ana. Hum—the King!—

392 Des. Ah, and with the King, the Bishops; and then, where’s all our Church and Bishops Lands! oh, undone—puff, puff.

Ana. How, bring in the King and Bishops! my righteous Spirit is raised too—I say, I will excommunicate him for one of the Wicked, yea, for a profane Heroick, a Malignant, a Tory,—a—I say, we will surround him, and confound him with a mighty Host; yea, and fight the Lard’s Battel with him: yea, we will—

Des. Truckle to his Pow’r—puff, puff.

Ana. Nay, I say verily, nay; for, in Sadness, I will die in my Calling.

Des. So I doubt shall I—which is Ploughing, Hedging, and Ditching.

Ana. Yea, we have the Sword of the Righteous in our Hand, and we will defend the mighty Revenues of the Church, which the Lard hath given unto his People, and chosen ones—I say, we will defend—

Des. Ah, Patience, Sir, ah, ’tis a pious Virtue—

Ana. Ah, it is Zeal in one of us, the Out-goings of the Spirit.

Enter Tom.

Tom. Sir, will you go down to Prayers? the Chaplain waits.

Des. No, no, Boy, I am too serious for that Exercise, I cannot now dissemble, Heav’n forgive me.

Ana. How, Sir, not dissemble—ah, then you have lost a great Virtue indeed, a very great Virtue; ah, let us not give away the Good Old Cause—but, as we have hitherto maintain’d it by gadly Cozenage, and pious Frauds, let us persevere—ah, let us persevere to the end; let us not lose our Heritage for a Mess of Pottage, that is, let us not lose the Cause for Dissimulation and Hypocrisy, those two main Engines that have earned on the great Work.

Des. Verily, you have prevail’d, and I will go take 393 counsel of my Pillow: Boy—call my Man to undress me—I’ll to Bed, for I am sick at Heart. [Ex. Tom.

Free. Death, what shall I do now?

L. Des. You must get my Man off, or we’re undone.

Ana. Madam, be comforted, Heaven will bring all things about for our Advantage— [As Des. turns.

L. Des. But he’s behind the Curtains, Man—

Ana. Ah, let Providence alone— [Spreads his Cloak wide, and goes by degrees toward the Bed.] —Your pious Lady, Sir, is doubtful, but I will give her ample Satisfaction.

Des. Ah, do, Mr. Ananias, do, for she’s a good and virtuous Lady, certo she is.

Ana. Get ye behind my Cloak—

L. Des. Indeed, Sir, your Counsel and Assistance is very comfortable.

Ana. We should be Help-meets to one another, Madam.

Des. Alack, good Man!

L. Des. Ay, my dear, I am so much oblig’d to him, that I know not, without thy Aid, how to make him amends.

Free. So, this is the first Cloak of Zeal I ever made use of.

Des. Good Lady, give him his twenty pieces, adad, he worthily deserves ’em. [Gives her Gold.

L. Des. Indeed, and so he does, Dear, if thou knew’st all.—What say you now, do I not improve in Hypocrisy? And shall I not in time make a precious Member of your Church? [To Ana.

Ana. Verily, your Ladyship is most ingenious and expert.—Sir, I most humbly take my leave. [Ex. Ana.

Enter Tom.

Tom. My Lord, my Lord Lambert has sent in all haste for you, you must attend at his House immediately.

394 Des. So, he has heard the News—I must away—let my Coach be ready. [Ex. Des.

L. Des. How unlucky was this that Freeman should be gone—Sirrah, run and see to o’ertake him, and bring him back. [Exeunt.

Scene II. A fine Chamber in La. Lambert’s House.

Enter Gilliflower and Loveless by dark, richly drest.

Lov. Where am I, Gilliflower?

Gill. In my Lady’s Apartment, Sir, she’ll be with you presently; you need not fear betraying, Sir, for I’ll assure you I’m an Heroick in my Heart: my Husband was a Captain for his Majesty of ever-blessed Memory, and kill’d at Naseby, God be thanked, Sir.

Lov. What pity ’tis that thou shouldst serve this Party?

Gill. Bating her Principles, my Lady has good Nature enough to oblige a Servant; and truly, Sir, my Vails were good in old Oliver’s Days; I got well by that Amour between him and my Lady; the man was lavish enough.

Lov. Yes, of the Nation’s Treasure—but prithee tell me, is not thy Lady mad, raving on Crowns and Kingdoms?

Gill. It appears so to you, who are not us’d to the Vanity of the Party, but they are all so mad in their Degree, and in the Fit they talk of nothing else, Sir: we have tomorrow a Hearing as they call it.

Lov. What’s that, a Conventicle?

Gill. No, no, Sir, Ladies of the last Edition, that present their Grievances to the Council of Ladies, of which my Lady’s chief, which Grievances are laid open to the Committee of Safety, and so redress’d or slighted, as they are.

Lov. That must be worth one’s Curiosity, could one but see’t.

Gill. We admit no Man, Sir.

Lov. ’Sdeath, for so good a sight I will turn Woman, I’ll act it to a hair.

395 Gill. That would be excellent.

Lov. Nay, I must do’t; the Novelty is rare—but I’m impatient—prithee let thy Lady know I wait.

Gill. She’s in Affairs of State, but will be here immediately; mean time, retire into her Cabinet, I’ll send the Page with Lights, there you may repose till my Lady comes, on the Pallat. [She leads him out.

Scene III. A great Chamber of State, and Canopy in Lambert’s House.

And at a Table, seated Lambert, Fleetwood, Desbro, Hewson, Duckenfield, Wariston, Cobbet; all half drunk, with Bottles and Glasses on the Table; L. Lam. and L. Fleet.

Lam. My Lord Wariston, you are not merry to night.

War. Wons, Mon, this Monk sticks in my Gullet, the muckle Diel pull him out by th’ Lugs; the faud Loone will en spoyle and our Sport, mon.

Lam. I thought I had enough satisfied all your Fears; the Army’s mine, that is,—’tis yours, my Lords, and I’ll imploy it too so well for the Good of the Commonwealth, you shall have Cause to commend both my Courage and Conduct; my Lord Wariston, will you accompany me?

War. Ah, my gued Lord, the Honour is too great. ’Tis not but I’s dare fight, my Lord, but I love not the limmer Loone, he has a villanous honest Face an’s ene; I’s ken’d him ence, and lik’t him not; but I’s drink tol yar gued Fortune; let it gang aboote, ene and ad, Sirs.

Lam. We’ll leave all Discourse of Bus’ness, and give our selves to Mirth; I fancy good Success from this day’s Omen.

Enters Gill, whispers L. Lam. she rises.

L. Lam. Waited so long!

396 Gill. And grew impatient, an’t please your Highness; must I go tell him you cannot see him to night.

L. Lam. Not for the World; my silly Politician will be Busying himself in the dull Affairs of State; —Dull in comparison of Love, I mean; I never lov’d before; old Oliver I suffer’d for my Interest, And ’tis some Greatness, to be Mistress to the best; But this mighty Pleasure comes a propos, To sweeten all the heavy Toils of Empire.

Gill. So it does, an’t please your Highness.

L. Lam. Go, let him know I’m coming—Madam, I must beg your Pardon; you hear, my Lord to morrow goes on his great Expedition; and, for any thing we know, may fall a glorious Sacrifice to the Commonwealth; therefore ’tis meet I offer up some Prayers for his Safety, and all my leisure Hours ’twixt this and that, will be too few—Your humble Servant, Madam. [Ex. L. Lam. and Gill.

L. Fleet. My Dear, I’ll leave you too, my time of Devotion is come, and Heav’n will stay for no Body; where are my People? is my Coach ready, or my Chair?

Fleet. Go in your Chair, my Love, lest you catch cold.

L. Fleet. And light your Flambeaus,—I love to have my Chair surrounded with Flambeaus.

Enter Page.

Page. Your Chair is ready, Madam.

Hews. What think ye now, my Lords, of settling the Nation a little? I find my Head swim with Politicks, and what ye call ums.

War. Wons, and wad ya settle the Nation when we real our selves?

Hews. Who, pox, shall we stand making Childrens Shoes all the Year? No, no, let’s begin to settle the Nation, I say, and go thro-stitch with our Work.

Duc. Right, we have no Head to obey; so that if this 397 Scotch General do come whilst we Dogs fight for the Bone, he runs away with it.

Hews. Shaw, we shall patch up matters with the Scotch General, I’ll warrant you: However, here’s to our next Head—One and all. [All drink.

Fleet. Verily, Sirs, this Health-drinking savoureth of Monarchy, and is a Type of Malignancy.

War. Bread, my Lord, no preaching o’er yar Liquer, wee’s now for a Cup o’ th’ Creature.

Cob. In a gadly way you may; it is lawful.

Lam. Come, come, we’re dull, give us some Musick—come, my Lord, I’ll give you a Song, I love Musick as I do a Drum, there’s Life and Soul in’t, call my Musick.

Fleet. Yea, I am for any Musick, except an Organ.

War. Sbread, Sirs, and I’s for a Horn-pipe, I’ve a faud Theefe here shall dance ye Dance tol a Horn-pipe, with any States-man a ya aud.

All. He, he, he.

Duc. I know not what your faud Theefe can do; but I’ll hold you a Wager, Colonel Hewson, and Colonel Desbro shall dance ye the Seint’s Jigg with any Sinner of your Kirk, or field Conventicler.

War. Wons, and I’s catch ’em at that Sport, I’s dance tol ’em for a Scotch Poond; but farst yar Song, my Lord, I hope ’tis boody, or else ’tis not werth a Feart.

All. He, he, he.

SONG, sung by my Lord Lambert.

A Pox of the States-man that’s witty, That watches and plots all the sleepless Night, For seditious Harangues to the Whigs of the City, And piously turns a Traitor in spite. Let him wrack, and torment his lean Carrion, To bring his sham-Plots about, Till Religion, King, Bishop, and Baron, For the publick Good, be quite routed out.

398

Whilst we that are no Politicians, But Rogues that are resolute, bare-fac’d and great, Boldly head the rude Rabble in open Sedition, Bearing all down before us in Church and in State. Your Impudence is the best State-trick, And he that by Law means to rule, Let his History with ours be related, Tho we prove the Knaves, ’tis he is the Fool.

War. The Diel a me, wele sung, my Lord, and gen aud Trades fail, yas make a quaint Minstrel.

All. He, he, he.

War. Noo, Sirs, yar Dance? [They fling Cushions at one another, and grin. Musick plays.] —Marry, Sirs, an this be yar dancing, tol dance and ne’er stir Stap, the Diel lead the Donce for Archibald.

—Haud, Minstrels, haud; Bread a gued. I’s fatch ad Ladies in—lead away, Minstrels, tol my Lady’s Apartment.

Scene IV. Flat.

Enter Page.

Page. Cock, Here must I wait, to give my Lady notice when my Lord approaches;—The fine Gentleman that is alone with her, gave me these two fine Pieces of Gold, and bad me buy a Sword to fight for the King withal; and I’m resolv’d to lay it all out in a Sword, not a penny in Nickers, and fight for the Heroicks as long as I have a 399 Limb, if they be all such fine Men as this within. But hark, sure I hear some coming.— [Exit.

Lov. This Present’s too magnificent: such Bracelets young Monarchs shou’d put on.

L. Lam. Persons like me, when they make Presents, Sir, must do it for their Glory, not considering the Merit of the Wearer: yet this, my charming Loveless, comes short of what I ought to pay thy Worth; comes short too of my Love.

Lov. You bless me, Madam—

L. Lam. This the great Monarch of the World once ty’d about my Arm, and bad me wear it, till some greater Man shou’d chance to win my Heart;

Thou art that Man whom Love has rais’d above him; Whom every Grace and every Charm thou hast Conspire to make thee mightier to my Soul; And Oliver, illustrious Oliver, Was yet far short of thee.

Lov. He was the Monarch then whose Spoils I triumph in.

L. Lam. They were design’d too for Trophies to the young and gay. Ah, Loveless! that I cou’d reward thy Youth With something that might make thee more than Man, As well as to give the best of Women to thee— [Rises, takes him by the Hand, leads him to the Table. He starts. —Behold this gay, this wondrous glorious thing.

Lov. Hah—a Crown—and Scepter! Have I been all this while So near the sacred Relicks of my King; And found no awful Motion in my Blood, Nothing that mov’d sacred Devotion in me? [Kneels. 400 —Hail sacred Emblem of great Majesty, Thou that hast circled more Divinity Than the great Zodiack that surrounds the World. I ne’er was blest with sight of thee till now, But in much reverenc’d Pictures— [Rises and bows.

L. Lam. Is’t not a lovely thing?

Lov. There’s such Divinity i’ th’ very Form on’t, Had I been conscious I’d been near the Temple, Where this bright Relick of the glorious Martyr Had been enshrin’d, ’t had spoil’d my soft Devotion. —’Tis Sacrilege to dally where it is; A rude, a saucy Treason to approach it With an unbended Knee: for Heav’ns sake, Madam, Let us not be profane in our Delights, Either withdraw, or hide that glorious Object.

L. Lam. Thou art a Fool, the very sight of this— Raises my Pleasure higher: Methinks I give a Queen into thy Arms, And where I love I cannot give enough; [Softly. —Wou’d I cou’d set it on thy Head for ever, ’Twou’d not become my simple Lord The thousandth part so well. [Goes to put it on his Head, he puts it back.

Lov. Forbear, and do not play with holy things; Let us retire, and love as Mortals shou’d, Not imitate the Gods, and spoil our Joys.

L. Lam. Lovely, and unambitious! What hopes have I of all your promis’d Constancy, Whilst this which possibly e’er long may adorn my Brow, And ought to raise me higher in your Love, Ought to transform you even to Adoration, Shall poorly make you vanish from its Lustre? Methinks the very Fancy of a Queen Is worth a thousand Mistresses of less illustrious Rank.

Lov. What, every pageant Queen? you might from thence infer 401 I’d fall in love with every little Actress, because She acts the Queen for half an hour, But then the gaudy Robe is laid aside.

L. Lam. I’ll pardon the Comparison in you.

Lov. I do not doubt your Power of being a Queen, But trust, it will not last. How truly brave would your great Husband be, If, whilst he may, he paid this mighty Debt To the right Owner! If, whilst he has the Army in his Power, He made a true and lawful use of it, To settle our great Master in his Throne; And by an Act so glorious raise his Name Even above the Title of a King.

L. Lam. You love me not, that would persuade me from My Glory.

Enter Gilliflower.

Gill. Oh, Madam, the Lords are all got merry, as they call it, and are all dancing hither.

L. Lam. What, at their Oliverian Frolicks?—Dear Loveless, withdraw, I wou’d not give the fond believing Fool a Jealousy of me.

Gill. Withdraw, Madam? ’tis impossible, he must run just into their Mouths.

L. Lam. I’m ill at these Intrigues, being us’d to Lovers that still came with such Authority, that modestly my Husband wou’d withdraw—but Loveless is in danger, therefore take care he be not seen.

Gill. Heav’ns! they are coming, there’s no Retreat—

L. Lam. Lie down on the Couch—and cover him you with the Foot-Carpet—So, give me my Prayer-Book.

402 —What Insolence is this? do you not hear me, you—Sots—whom Gaiety and Dancing do so ill become.

War. [Singing.] Welcome, Joan Sanderson, welcome, welcome. [Goes to take her out, she strikes him. Wons, Madam, that’s no part o’ th’ Dance.

L. Lam. No, but ’tis part of a reward for your Insolence, Which possibly your Head shall answer for—

Lam. Pardon him, my Dear, he meant no Disrespect to thee.

L. Lam. How dare you interrupt my Devotion, Sirrah? Be gone with all your filthy ill-bred Crew.

Lam. My only Dear, be patient; hah!—Something moves under me; Treason, Treason! [He rises.

L. Lam. Treason, Treason! my Lord, my Lord!

Lam. Lights there, a Plot, a Popish Plot, Lights!

L. Lam. The Crown, the Crown, guard the Crown!

Lam. ’Tis I.

L. Lam. Ah, my Lord, what’s the matter?—

Lam. Nay, my Lady, I ask you what’s the matter?

Enter Page with Lights.

By Heaven, all is not well; hark ye, my fine she Politician, who was it you had hid beneath this Carpet?

L. Lam. Heav’ns! dost hear him, Gilliflower? Sure the Fellow’s mad.

Gill. Alack, my Lord, are you out of your honourable Wits? Heav’n knows, my Lady was at her Devotion.

403 Lam. Baud, come, confess thy self to be one. At her Devotion! yes, with a He Saint.

Gill. Ah! Gad forbid the Saints should be so wicked.

L. Lam. Hark ye, thou little sniveling Hypocrite, who hast no Virtue but a little Conduct in Martial Discipline; who hast by Perjuries, Cheats, and pious Villanies, wound thy self up into the Rabble’s Favour, where thou mayst stand till some more great in Roguery remove thee from that height, or to the Gallows, if the King return: hast thou the Impudence to charge my Virtue?

Lam. I know not, Madam, whether that Virtue you boast were lost, or only stak’t, and ready for the Gamester; but I am sure a Man was hid under this Carpet.

L. Lam. Oh Heav’ns, a Man!

Gill. Lord, a Man! Are you sure ’twas a Man, my Lord?—Some villanous Malignant, I’ll warrant.

Lam. It may be so.

Gill. Alack, the Wickedness of these Heroicks to hide under Carpets; why they’l have the impudence to hide under our Petticoats shortly, if your Highness take ’em not down. [To Lady Lam.

Lam. I do believe so; Death—a Cuckold? shall that black Cloud shade all my rising Fame?

L. Lam. Cuckold! Why, is that Name so great a Stranger to ye, Or has your rising Fame made ye forget How long that Cloud has hung upon your Brow? —’Twas once the height of your Ambition, Sir; When you were a poor-sneaking Slave to Cromwell, Then you cou’d cringe, and sneer, and hold the Door, And give him every Opportunity, Had not my Piety defeated your Endeavours.

Lam. That was for Glory, Who wou’d not be a Cuckold to be great? —If Cromwell leap’d into my Saddle once, I’ll step into his Throne for’t: but, to be pointed at 404 By Rascals that I—rule—’tis insupportable.

L. Lam. How got this Fellow drunk? call up my Officers! Who durst deliver him this quantity of Wine? Send strait in my Name, to summon all the Drunken Committee of Safety into my Presence. By Heav’n, I’ll show you, Sir—yes they shall See what a fine King they’re like to have In Honest, Gadly, Sober, Wise Jack Lambert. —Nay, I’ll do’t; d’ye think to take away my Honour thus? I, who by my sole Politicks and Management Have set you up, Villain of Villains, Sirrah. —Away—summon ’em all. [To Gilliflower.

Lam. Stay—be not so rash; who was beneath the Carpet?

L. Lam. I will not answer thee.

Lam. Nor any living thing?

L. Lam. No Creature in the Room, thou silly Ideot, but Gilliflower and I—at our Devotion, praying to Heav’n for your Success to morrow—and am I thus rewarded?

Lam. My Soul, I cannot bear the Sight of Tears From these dear Charming Eyes.

L. Lam. No matter, Sir, the Committee shall right me.

Lam. Upon my Knees I ask thy Pardon, Dear; by all that’s good, I wou’d have sworn I’d felt something stir beneath me as I sat, which threw me over.

L. Lam. Only your Brains turn’d round with too much drinking and dancing, Exercises you are not us’d to—go sleep, and settle ’em, for I’ll not deign to Bed with you to night—retire, as e’er you hope to have my Aid in your Advancement to the Crown.

Lam. I’m gone—and once more pardon my Mistake. [Bows, and goes out. Ex. Gill.

L. Lam. —So, this fighting Fool, so worshipp’d by the Rabble, How meanly can a Woman make him sneak?— 405 The happy Night’s our own— [To Loveless.

Enter Gill. Loveless.

Lov. Excellent Creature, how I do adore thee!

L. Lam. But you, perhaps, are satisfied already—

Lov. Never; shou’dst thou be kind to all Eternity. Thou hast one Virtue more, I pay thee Homage for; I heard from the Alcove how great a Mistress thou art in the dear Mystery of Jilting.

L. Lam. That’s the first Lesson Women learn in Conventicles, Religion teaches those Maxims to our Sex: by this

Kings are deposed, and Commonwealths are rul’d; By Jilting all the Universe is fool’d. [Exeunt.