Act V.

Scene I. A Street.

Enter Corporal, half drest; with Soldiers, Joyner, and Felt-maker.

Cor. Ha, Rogues, the City-Boys are up in Arms; brave Boys, all for the King now!

Felt. Have a care what you say, Sir; but as to the City’s being in Mutiny, that makes well for us: we shall fall to our old Trade of plundering; something will fall to the Righteous, and there is Plunder enough.

Cor. You plunder, Sirrah! knock him down, and carry him into the Guard-room, and secure him.

1 Sold. They say the Committee of Safety sate all Night at General Lambert’s, about some great Affair—some rare Change, Rogues.

2 Sold. Yes, and to put off Sorrow, they say, were all right reverendly drunk too.

Cor. I suppose there is some heavenly matter in hand; there was Treason cried out at the General’s last night, and the Committee of no Safety all ran away.

1 Sold. Or rather reel’d away.

406 Cor. The Ladies squeak’d, the Lords fled, and all the House was up in Arms.

Felt. Yea, and with Reason they say; for the Pope in disguise was found under the Lady’s Bed, and two huge Jesuits as big as the tall Irish-man, with Blunderbusses; having, as ’tis said, a Design to steal the Crown, now in Custody of the General—

2 Sold. Good lack, is’t possible?

Joyn. Nay, Sir, ’tis true, and is’t not time we look’d about us?

Cor. A Pox upon ye all for lying Knaves—secure ’em both on the Guard till farther Order—and let us into th’ City, Boys: hay for Lombard-Street.

2 Sold. Ay, hay for Lombard-Street; there’s a Shop I have mark’d out for my own already.

1 Sold. There’s a handsom Citizen’s Wife, that I have an Eye upon, her Husband’s a rich Banker, I’ll take t’one with t’other.

Joyn. You are mistaken, Sir, that Plunder is reserv’d for us, if they begin to mutiny; that wicked City that is so weary of a Commonwealth.

2 Sold. Yes, they’re afraid of the Monster they themselves have made.

Enter Lov. and Free. in disguise.

Cor. Hah, my noble Colonel! what, in disguise!

Free. We have made our Escapes—and hope to see better times shortly, the noble Scotch General is come, Boys.

Enter Captain of the Prentices, and a great Gang with him, arm’d with Swords, Staffs, &c.

Capt. Come, my Lads, since you have made me Captain, I’ll lead you bravely on; I’ll die in the Cause, or bring you off with Victory.

1 Pren. Here’s a Club shall do some Execution: I’ll beat out Hewson’s t’other Eye; I scorn to take him on the blind side.

407 Capt. In the first Place, we must all sign a Petition to my Lord Mayor.—

2 Pren. Petitions! we’ll have no Petition, Captain; we are for Club-Law, Captain.

Capt. Obey, or I leave you.

All. Obey, Obey.

Capt. Look ye, we’ll petition for an honest Free Parliament I say.

1 Pren. No Parliament, no Parliament, we have had too much of that Mischief already, Captain.

All. No Parliament, no Parliament.

Capt. Farewel, Gentlemen, I thought I might have been heard.

Free. Death, Sirs, you shall hear the Captain out.

All. We obey, we obey.

Capt. I say an honest Free Parliament, not one pick’d and chosen by Faction; but such an one as shall do our Bus’ness, Lads, and bring in the Great Heroick.

All. Ay, ay, the Great Heroick, the Great Heroick.

Lov. A fine Youth, and shou’d be encourag’d.

Capt. Good—in the next Place, the noble Scotch General is come, and we’ll side with him.

Free. Ay, ay, all side with him.

1 Pren. Your Reason, Captain, for we have acted too much without Reason already.

2 Pren. Are we sure of him, Captain?

Capt. Oh, he’ll doubtless declare for the King, Boys.

All. Hay, Viva le Roy, viva le Monk!

Capt. Next, I hear there’s a Proclamation coming out to dissolve the Committee of no Safety.

All. Good, good.

Capt. And I hope you are all brave enough to stand to your Loyal Principles with your Lives and Fortunes.

All. We’ll die for the Royal Interest.

Capt. In the next Place, there’s another Proclamation come out.

408 2 Pren. This Captain is a Man of rare Intelligence; but for what, Captain?

Capt. Why—to—hang us all, if we do not immediately depart to our respective Vocations: How like you that, my Lads?

2 Pren. Hum—hang’d! I’ll e’en home again.

1 Pren. And I too, I do not like this hanging.

2 Pren. A Man looks but scurvily with his Neck awry.

3 Pren. Ay, ay, we’ll home.

Capt. Why, now you shew what precious Men you are—the King wou’d be finely hop’d up with such Rascals, that for fear of a little hanging would desert his Cause; a Pox upon you all, I here discharge ye— —Take back your Coward Hands and give me Hearts. [Flings ’em a Scroll.

I scorn to fight with such mean-spirited Rogues; I did but try your boasted Courages.

Lov. Brave Boy.

Lov. and Free. We’ll die with thee, Captain—

All. Oh, noble Captain, we recant—

1 Pren. We recant, dear Captain, we’ll die, one and all.

All. One and all, one and all.

Capt. Why, so there’s some trusting to you now.

3 Pren. But is there such a Proclamation, Captain?

Capt. There is; but anon, when the Crop-ear’d Sheriff begins to read it, let every Man enlarge his Voice, and cry, no Proclamation, no Proclamation.

All. Agreed, agreed.

Lov. Brave noble Lads, hold still your Resolution, And when your leisure Hours will give ye leave, Drink the King’s Health, here’s Gold for you to do so.

Free. Take my Mite too, brave Lads. [Gives ’em Gold.

All. Hay! Viva the brave Heroicks!

Enter Ananias Gogle.

Ana. Hum, what have we here, a Street-Conventicle—or a 409 Mutiny? Yea, verily, it is a Mutiny—What meaneth this Appearance in hostile manner, in open Street, by Day-light?

Capt. Hah! one of the sanctify’d Lay Elders, one of the Fiends of the Nation, that go about like roaring Lions seeking whom they may devour.

Lov. Who, Mr. Ananias the Padder?

Ana. Bear witness, Gentlemen all, he calls me Highway-man; thou shalt be hang’d for Scandal on the Brethren.

Lov. I’ll prove what I say, Sirrah; do you not rob on the High-way i’ th’ Pulpit? rob the Sisters, and preach it lawful for them to rob their Husbands; rob Men even of their Consciences and Honesty; nay rather than stand out, rob poor Wenches of their Bodkins and Thimbles?

Ana. I commit ye; here, Soldiers, I charge ye in the Name of—of—marry, I know not who, in my Name, and the good People of England, take ’em to safe Custody.

Capt. How, lay hold of honest Gentlemen! Noble Cavaliers, knock him down.

All. Knock him down, knock him down.

Free. Hold, worthy Youths; the Rascal has done me Service.

Ana. [Pulling off his Hat to ’em all.] Ye look like Citizens, that evil Spirit is entered in unto you, oh Men of London! that ye have changed your Note, like Birds of evil Omen; that you go astray after new Lights, or rather no Lights, and commit Whoredom with your Fathers Idols, even in the midst of the Holy City, which the Saints have prepared for the Elect, the Chosen ones.

Capt. Hark ye, Sirrah, leave preaching, and fall to declaring for us, or thou art mortal.

Ana. Nay, I say nay, I will die in my Calling—yea, I will fall a Sacrifice to the Good Old Cause; abomination ye with a mighty Hand, and will destroy, demolish and confound your Idols, those heathenish Malignants whom you follow, even with Thunder and Lightning, even as a Field of Corn blasted by a strong Blast.

410 Lov. Knock him down!

All. Down with Dagon, down with him!

Enter Hewson with Guards.

Hews. Ah, Rogues, have I caught ye napping?

All. Whoop Cobler, Whoop Cobler!

Scene II. Changes to a Chamber in La. Lambert’s House.

Enter L. Lam. and Gill.

Gill. I’ve had no time to ask your Highness how you slept to Night; but that’s a needless Question.

L. Lam. How mean you? do you suspect my Virtue? do you believe Loveless dares attempt any thing against my Honour? No, Gilliflower, he acted all things so like a Gentleman, that every moment takes my Heart more absolutely.

Gill. My Lord departed highly satisfied.

L. Lam. She is not worthy of Intrigues of Love, that cannot manage a silly Husband as she pleases—but, Gilliflower, you forget that this is Council day.

Gill. No, but I do not, Madam, some important Suitors wait already.

Enter L. Des. and L. Fleetwood.

L. Lam. Your Servant, Madam Desbro, thou’rt welcome— Gilliflower, are all things ready in the Council-Chamber? We that are great must sometimes stoop to Acts, That have at least some shew of Charity; We must redress the Grievance of our People.

L. Fleet. She speaks as she were Queen, but I shall put a spoke in her rising Wheel of Fortune, or my Lord’s Politicks fail him.

411 L. Lam. Where are the Ladies of the Council?—how remiss they are in their Attendance on us.

L. Fleet. Us! Heav’ns, I can scarce endure this Insolence!—We will take care to mind ’em of their Duty—

L. Lam. We, poor Creature! how simply Majesty becomes her?

—Madam, as I take it, at our last sitting, our Pleasure was, that you shou’d sit no more.

Crom. Your Pleasure! Is that the General Voice? This is my Place in spite of thee, and all thy fawning Faction, and I shall keep it, when thou perhaps, shalt be an humble Suppliant here at my Foot-stool.

L. Lam. I smile at thee.

Cram. Do, and cringe; ’tis thy business to make thee popular. But ’tis not that— Nor thy false Beauty that will serve thy Ends.

L. Lam. Rail on; declining Majesty may be excus’d, Call in the Women that attend for redress of Grievances.

Enter Page with Women, and Loveless dress’d as a Woman.

Gentlewomen, what’s your Bus’ness with us?

Lov. Gentlewomen! some of us are Ladies.

L. Lam. Ladies in good time; by what Authority, and from whom do you derive your Title of Ladies?

L. Fleet. Have a care how you usurp what is not your own!

Lov. How the Devil rebukes Sin! [Aside.

L. Des. From whom had you your Honours, Women?

Lov. From our Husbands.

Gill. Husbands, who are they, and of what standing?

2 Lady. Of no long standing, I confess.

Gill. That’s a common Grievance indeed.

L. Des. And ought to be redress’d.

412 L. Lam. And that shall be taken into consideration; write it down, Gilliflower; who made your Husband a Knight, Woman?

Lov. Oliver the first, an’t please ye.

L. Lam. Of horrid Memory; write that down—who yours?

2 Lady. Richard the fourth, an’t like your Honour.

Gill. Of sottish Memory; shall I write that down too?

L. Des. Most remarkably.

Crom. Heav’ns! Can I hear this Profanation of our Royal Family? [Aside.

L. Lam. I wonder with what impudence Noll and Dick cou’d Knightify your Husbands; for ’tis a Rule in Heraldry, that none can make a Knight but him that is one; ’tis Sancha Pancha’s Case in Don Quixot.

Crom. How dare you question my Husband’s Authority? [Rises in Anger. Who nobly won his Honour in the Field, Not like thy sneaking Lord who gain’d his Title From his Wife’s gay Love-tricks— Bartering her Honour for his Coronet.

L. Lam. Thou ly’st, my Husband earn’d it with his Sword, Braver and juster than thy bold Usurper, Who waded to his Glory through a Sea Of Royal Blood—

L. Des. Sure Loveless has done good on her, and converted her.

L. Fleet. Madam, I humbly beg you will be patient, you’ll ruin all my Lord’s Designs else—Women, proceed to your Grievances, both publick and private.

Lov. I petition for a Pension; my Husband, deceas’d, was a constant active man, in all the late Rebellion, against the Man; he plunder’d my Lord Capel, he betray’d his dearest Friend Brown Bushel, who trusted his Life in his Hands, and several others; plundering their Wives and Children even to their Smocks.

413 L. Lam. Most considerable Service, and ought to be consider’d.

2 Lady. And most remarkably, at the Trial of the late Man, I spit in’s Face, and betray’d the Earl of Holland to the Parliament.

Crom. In the King’s Face, you mean—it shew’d your Zeal for the Good Cause.

2 Lady. And ’twas my Husband that headed the Rabble, to pull down Gog and Magog, the Bishops, broke the Idols in the Windows, and turn’d the Churches into Stables and Dens of Thieves; rob’d the Altar of the Cathedral of the twelve pieces of Plate call’d the twelve Apostles, turn’d eleven of ’em into Money, and kept Judas for his own use at home.

L. Fleet. On my Word, most wisely perform’d, note it down—

3 Lady. And my Husband made Libels on the Man from the first Troubles to this day, defam’d and profan’d the Woman and her Children, printed all the Man’s Letters to the Woman with Burlesque Marginal Notes, pull’d down the sumptuous Shrines in Churches, and with the golden and Popish Spoils adorn’d his own Houses and Chimney-Pieces.

L. Lam. We shall consider these great Services.

Lov. To what a height is Impudence arriv’d? [Aside.

L. Lam. Proceed to private Grievances.

Lov. An’t please your Honours, my Husband prays too much; which both hinders his private bus’ness at home, and his publick Services to the Commonwealth—

L. Lam. A double Grievance—set it down, Gilliflower.

Lov. And then he rails against the Whore of Babylon, and all my neighbours think he calls me Whore.

Cram. A most unpardonable fault.

L. Lam. We’ll have that rectify’d, it will concern us.

Lov. Then he never kisses me, but he says a long Grace, which is more mortifying than inviting.

414 L. Des. That is the fault of all the new Saints, which is the reason their Wives take a pious care, as much as in them lies, to send ’em to Heaven, by making ’em Cuckolds.

L. Fleet. A very charitable Work, and ought to be encourag’d.

Gill. The humble Petition of the Lady Make-shift. [Reads. —Heav’ns, Madam, here are many thousand Hands to’t of the distressed Sex.

All. Read it.

Gill. Reads.] Whereas there pass’d an Act, June 24th, against Fornication and Adultery, to the great detriment of most of the young Ladies, Gentlewomen, and Commonalty of England, and to the utter decay of many whole Families, especially when married to old Men; your Petitioners most humbly beg your Honours will take this great Grievance into mature Consideration, and the said Act may be repealed. —A Blessing on ’em, they shall have my Hand too.

L. Lam. We acknowledge, there are many Grievances in that Act; but there are many Conveniences too, for it ties up the villanous Tongues of Men from boasting our Favours.

Crom. But as it lays a Scandal on Society—tis troublesome, Society being the very Life of a Republick—Peters the first, and Martin the second.

Lov. But in a Free-State, why shou’d we not be free?

L. Des. Why not? we stand for the Liberty and Property of our Sex, and will present it to the Committee of Safety.

Lov. Secondly, we desire the Heroicks, vulgarly call’d the Malignant, may not be look’d on as Monsters, for assuredly they are Men; and that it may not be charg’d to us as a Crime to keep ’em company, for they are honest Men.

2 Lady. And some of ’em Men that will stand to their Principles.

415 L. Lam. Is there no other honest Men that will do as well?

3 Lady. Good Men are scarce.

L. Lam. They’re all for Heroicks, sure ’tis the mode to love ’em—I cannot blame ’em. [Aside.

Lov. And that when we go to Morning and Evening Lectures, to Tantlings, or elsewhere, and either before or after visit a private Friend, it may be actionable for the wicked to scandalize us, by terming of it, abusing the Creature, when ’tis harmless recreating the Creature.

All. Reason, Reason.

Lov. Nor that any Husband shou’d interrupt his Wife, when at her private Devotion.

Enter Page.

L. Lam. I have been too late sensible of that Grievance.

Gill. And, Madam, I wou’d humbly pray a Patent for Scolding, to ease my Spleen.

Page. An please your Highness, here’s a Messenger arriv’d Post with Letters from my Lord the General.

L. Lam. Greater Affairs—oblige us to break up the Council. [Rises, the Women retire.

Enter Page with Messenger, or Letters.

—What means this haste? [Opens, and reads ’em.

Crom. Hah, bless my Eye-sight, she looks pale,—now red again; some turn to his Confusion, Heav’n, I beseech thee.

L. Lam. My Lord’s undone! his Army has deserted him; Left him defenceless to the Enemies Pow’r. Ah, Coward Traytors! Where’s that brutal Courage, That made you so successful in your Villanies? Has Hell, that taught you Valour, now abandon’d ye? —How in an instant are my Glories fall’n!

Crom. Ha, ha, ha—What, has your Highness any Cause of Grief?

416 Gill. Call up your Courage, Madam, do not let these things scoff you—you may be yet a Queen: Remember what Lilly told you, Madam.

L. Lam. Damn Lilly, who with lying Prophecies has rais’d me to the hopes of Majesty: a Legion of his Devils take him for’t.

Crom. Oh, have a care of Cursing, Madam.

L. Lam. Screech-Owl, away, thy Voice is ominous. Oh I cou’d rave! but that it is not great; —And silent Sorrow—has most Majesty.

Enter Wariston, huffing.

War. Wons, Madam, undone, undone; our honourable Committee is gone to th’ Diel, and the damn’d loosey Rump is aud in aud; the muckle Diel set it i’solt, and his Dam drink most for’t.

Crom. The Committee dissolv’d! whose wise work was that? it looks like Fleetwood’s silly Politicks.

War. Marry, and yar Ladiship’s i’th’ right,’twas en the Work o’th’ faud Loone, the Diel brest his Wem for’t.

Enter Hewson, Desbro, Whitlock, Duc. and Cob.

Hew. So, Brethren in Iniquity, we have spun a fine Thred, the Rump’s all in all now, rules the Roast, and has sent for the General with Scissers and Rasor.

Whit. With a Sisseraro, you mean.

Hew. None of your Terms in Law, good Brother.

War. Right; but gen ya have any Querks in Law, Mr. Lyar, that will save our Crags, ’twill be warth a Fee.

Duc. We have plaid our Cards fair.

War. I’s deny that; Wans, Sirs, ya plaid ’em faul; a Fule had the shooftling of’em, and the Muckle Diel himself turn up Trump.

Whit. We are lost, Gentlemen, utterly lost; who the Devil wou’d have thought of a Dissolution?

Hews. Is there no Remedy?

Duc. Death, I’ll to the Scotch General; turn but in time 417 as many greater Rogues than I have done, and ’twill save my Stake yet—Farewel, Gentlemen.

Des. No Remedy?

War. Nene, Sirs, again the King’s Evil; Bread, Sirs, ya’s ene gan tol yar Stall agen: I’s en follow Duckenfield—Farewel, Mr. Leyer.

L. Lam. See the Vicissitudes of human Glory. These Rascals, that but yesterday petition’d me With humble Adoration, now scarce pay Common Civilities due to my Sex alone.

Enter Fleetwood.

Crom. How now, Fool, what is’t that makes ye look so pertly? Some mighty Business you have done, I’ll warrant.

Fleet. Verily, Lady Mother, you are the strangest Body; a Man cannot please you—Have I not finely circumvented Lambert? made the Rump Head, who have committed him to the Tower; ne’er stir now that I have, and I’m the greatest Man in England, as I live I am, as a Man may say.

Crom. Yes, till a greater come. Ah, Fool of Fools, not to fore-see the danger of that nasty Rump.

L. Fleet. Good Madam, treat my Lord with more Respect.

Crom. Away, fond Fool, born with so little Sense, To doat on such a wretched Idiot; It was thy Fate in Ireton’s days to love him, Or you were foully scandalized.

Fleet. You are not so well spoken of neither, ne’er stir now, and you go to that. I can be King to morrow if I will.

Crom. Thou lyest, thou wo’t be hang’d first; mark that I tell thee so. I’ll prove Cassandra to thee, and prophesy thy Doom; Heav’n pays the Traitor back with equal Measure. Remember how you serv’d my poor Son Richard.

Fleet. She’s mad—Come, my Dear, let’s leave the House of this Villain, that meant to have cozen’d me illegally or three Kingdoms—but that I outwitted him at last.

418 Enter Page.

L. Lam. Imprison’d too, i’th’ Tower! what Fate is mine? [Leans on Des.

Page. Madam, the fine Heroick’s come to wait on you.

L. Lam. Hah! Loveless! let him not see the Ruin of my Greatness, which he foretold, and kindly begg’d I wou’d usurp no more. [Weep.

Enter Loveless.

Lov. This News has brought me back, I love this Woman, Vain as she is, in spite of all her Fopperies of State— [Bows to her, and looks sad.

L. Lam. Alas, I do not merit thy Respect, I’m fall’n to Scorn, to Pity and Contempt. [Weeping. Ah, Loveless, fly the wretched—Thy Virtue is too noble to be shin’d on By any thing but rising Suns alone: I’m a declining Shade—

Lov. By Heaven, you were never great till now; I never thought thee so much worth my Love, My Knee, and Adoration, till this Minute. [Kneels. —I come to offer you my Life, and all The little Fortune the rude Herd has left me.

L. Lam. Is there such God-like Virtue in your Sex? Or, rather, in your Party. Curse on the Lyes and Cheats of Conventicles, That taught me first to think Heroicks Devils, Blood-thirsty, leud, tyrannick, salvage Monsters. —But I believe ’em Angels all, if all like Loveless. What heavenly thing then must the Master be, Whose Servants are divine?

Page. Oh, Madam! all the Heroick Boys are up in Arms, and swear they’ll have your Highness, dead or alive,—they have besieg’d the House.

L. Lam. Heav’ns, the Rabble!—those faithless things 419 that us’d to croud my Coach’s Wheels, and stop my Passage, with their officious Noise and Adoration.

Enter Freeman.

Free. Loveless, thy Aid; the City-Sparks are up; Their zealous Loyalty admits no Bounds. A glorious Change is coming, and I’ll appear now barefac’d.

Lov. Madam, fear not the Rabble; retire. Freeman and I can still ’em. Leads her in, and bows low.

Free. My dear Maria, I shall claim ye shortly—

L. Des. Do your worst, I’m ready for the Challenge. [Go in.

Scene III. The Street.

Enter Captain and the rest.

Capt. I say we’ll have the She-Politican out, she did more mischief than her Husband, pitiful, dittiful Lambert; who is, thanks be prais’d, in the Tower, to which place Lord of his Mercy bring all the King’s Enemies.

All. Amen, Amen.

Enter Lov. and Freeman.

Lov. Why, how now, Captain, what, besiege the Women! No, let us lead our Force to nobler Enemies.

Capt. Nay, noble Chief, your Word’s our Law.

Lov. No, I resign that Title to the brave Scotch General, who has just now enter’d the City.

Capt. We know it, Sir; do you not observe how the Crop-ear’d Fanaticks trot out of Town?—The Rogues began their old belov’d Mutiny, but ’twould not do.

Lov. A Pox upon ’em, they went out like the Snuff of a Candle, stinkingly and blinkingly.

1 Pr. Ay, ay, let ’em hang themselves, and then they are cold Meat for the Devil.

Capt. But, noble Champion, I hope we may have leave to roast the Rump to night.

420 Lov. With all our Hearts, here’s Mony to make Fires—

Free. And here’s for Drink to’t, Boys.

All. Hey—Viva le Roy, viva les Heroicks! [Go out hollowing.

Enter Ananias peeping, Felt-maker, and Joyner.

Ana. So, the Rabble’s gone: ah, Brethren! what will this wicked World come to?

Felt. Alack, alack, to no Goodness, you may be sure: pray what’s the News?

Fleet. Anania, Anania!

Ana. Who calleth Ananias? lo, here am I.

Fleet. Behold, it is I, look up. How goeth tidings?

Ana. Full ill, I fear; ’tis a bad Omen to see your Lordship so nigh Heaven; when the Saints are Garretified.

Fleet. I am fortifying my self against the Evil-Day.

Ana. Which is come upon us like a Thief in the night; like a Torrent from the Mountain of Waters, or a Whirlwind from the Wilderness.

Fleet. Why, what has the Scotch General done?

Ana. Ah! he playeth the Devil with the Saints in the City, because they put the Covenant-Oath unto him; he pulls up their Gates, their Posts and Chains, and enters.

Felt. And wou’d the wicked City let him have his beastly Will of her?

Ana. Nay, but she was ravish’d—deflower’d.

Joy. How, ravish’d! oh monstrous! was ever such a Rape committed upon an innocent City? lay her Legs open to the wide World, for every Knave to view her Nakedness?

Felt. Ah, ah! what Days, what Times, and what Seasons are here? [Exeunt.

Enter Capt. Corp. and Prent. with Faggots, hollowing.

Corp. What say you now, Lads, is not my Prophecy truer than Lilly’s? I told you the Rump would fall to 421 our handling and drinking for: the King’s proclaim’d, Rogues.

Capt. Ay, ay, Lilly, a Plague on him, he prophesied Lambert should be uppermost.

Corp. Yes, he meant perhaps on Westminster Pinacle: where’s Lilly now, with all his Prophecies against the Royal Family?

Capt. In one of his Twelve Houses.

1 Pren. We’ll fire him out to Night, Boy; come, all hands to work for the Fire. [Ex. all hollowing.

Fleet. Ah, dismal, heavy day, a day of Grief and Woe, Which hast bereft me of my hopes for ay, Ah, Lard, ah what shall I do? [Exit.

Scene IV. A Chamber in Lambert’s House.

Enter Lov. leading L. Lam. in disguise, Page and Gilliflower disguised, Lov. dressing her.

Lov. My Charmer, why these Tears, If for the fall of all thy painted Glories, Thou art, in the esteem of all good Men, Above what thou wert then? The glorious Sun is rising in our Hemisphere, And I, amongst the crowd of Loyal Sufferers, Shall share in its kindly Rays.

L. Lam. Best of thy Sex— What have I left to gratify thy Goodness?

Lov. You have already by your noble Bounty, Made me a Fortune, had I nothing else; All which I render back, with all that Wealth Heaven and my Parents left me: Which, tho unjustly now detain’d from me, Will once again be mine, and then be yours.

Enter Free.

Free. Come, haste, the Rabble gather round the House, And swear they’ll have this Sorceress.

422 Lov. Let me loose among ’em, their rude officious Honesty must be punish’d.

L. Lam. Oh, let me out, do not expose thy Person to their mad Rage, rather resign the Victim. [Holds him.

Lov. Resign thee! by Heaven, I think I shou’d turn Rebel first.

Enter La. Des. disguised, and Tom with Jewels in a Box.

L. Des. With much ado, according to thy direction, dear Freeman, I have pass’d the Pikes, my House being surrounded; and my Husband demanded, fell down dead with fear.

Free. How, thy Husband dead!

L. Des. Dead as old Oliver, and much ado I got off with these Jewels, the Rabble swore I was one of the Party; and had not the honest Corporal convinc’d em, I had been pull’d to pieces.—Come, haste away, Madam, we shall be roasted with the Rump else.

L. Lam. Adieu, dear Mansion! whose rich gilded Roofs so oft put me in mind of Majesty—And thou, my Bed of State, where my soft Slumbers have presented me with Diadems and Scepters—when waking I have stretch’d my greedy Arms to grasp the vanish’d Phantom! ah, adieu! and all my hopes of Royalty adieu.—

Free. And dare you put your self into my Protection? Well, if you do, I doubt you’ll never be your own Woman again.

L. Des. No matter, I’m better lost than found on such occasions. [Exeunt.

Scene V. A Street; a great Bonfire, with Spits, and Rumps roasting, and the Mobile about the Fire, with Pots, Bottles, Fiddles.

1 Pren. Here, Jack, a Health to the King.

2 Pren. Let it pass, Lad, and next to the noble General.

1 Pren. Ralph, baste the Rump well, or ne’er hope to see a King agen.

423 3 Pren. The Rump will baste it self, it has been well cram’d.

Enter Freeman, L. Des. Loveless, and L. Lam. Gill. Tom, Pages, &c.

Cap. Hah, Noble Champion, faith, Sir, you must honour us so far as to drink the King’s Health, and the noble General’s, before you go.

Enter Wariston, drest like a Pedlar, with a Box about his Neck full of Ballads and Things.

War. Will ya buy a guedly Ballat or a Scotch Spur, Sirs? a guedly Ballat, or a Scotch Spur.—’Sbread, I’s scapt hitherte weele enough, I’s say’d my Crag fro stretching twa Inches longer than ’twas borne: will ya buy a Jack-line to roast the Rump, a new Jack Lambert Line?—or a blithe Ditty of the Noble Scotch General?—come buy my Ditties.

Cap. How, a Ditty o’th’ General? let’s see’t, Sirrah.

War. ’Sbread, Sirs, and here’s the guedly Ballat of the General’s coming out of Scotland.

Cap. Here, who sings it? we’ll all bear the bob.

Enter Ananias crying Almanacks.

Ana. New Almanacks, new Almanacks.

Cap. Hah, who have we here? Ananias, Holder-forth of Clement’s Parish?

All. Ha, a Traytor, a Traytor.

Lov. If I am not mistaken, this blithe Ballad-singer too was Chair-man to the Committee of Safety.

Cap. Is your Lordship turned Pedlar at last?

War. What mon I do noo? Lerd, ne mere Lerd than yar sel, Sir; wons I show ’em a fair pair of Heels.

424 Cap. Play Fortune my Foe, Sirrah.

Enter Hewson, drest like a Country Fellow.

Cor. Who are you, Sirrah? you have the mark o’ th’ Beast.

Hews. Who aye, Sir? Aye am a Doncer, that come a merry-making among ya—

Cap. Come, Sirrah, your Feats of Activity quickly then.

All. A Cobler, a Cobler.

Cap. To Prison with the Traytors, and then we have made a good Night’s work on’t.

Then let’s all home, and to the Powers Divine Pray for the King, and all the Sacred Line. [Exeunt.

EPILOGUE

Spoken by Lady Desbro.

THE Vizor’s off, and now I dare appear. High for the Royal Cause in Cavalier; Tho once as true a Whig as most of you, Cou’d cant, and lye, preach, and dissemble too: So far you drew me in, but faith I’ll be Reveng’d on you for thus debauching me: Same of your pious Cheats I’ll open lay, That lead your Ignoramus Flock astray: For since I cannot fight, I will not fail To exercise my Talent, that’s to rail. Ye Race of Hypocrites, whose Cloak of Zeal Covers the Knave that cants for Commonweal, All Laws, the Church and State to Ruin brings, And impudently sets a Rule on Kings; Ruin, destroy, all’s good that you decree By your Infallible Presbytery, Prosperous at first, in Ills you grow so vain, You thought to play the Old Game o’er again: 425 And thus the Cheat was put upon the Nation, First with Long Parliaments, next Reformation, And now you hop’d to make a new Invasion: And when you can’t prevail by open Force, To cunning tickling Tricks you have recourse, And raise Sedition forth without Remorse. Confound these cursed Tories, then they cry, [In a preaching tone. Those Fools, those Pimps to Monarchy, Those that exclude the Saints; yet open th’ Door, To introduce the Babylonian Whore. By Sacred Oliver the Nation’s mad; Beloved, ’twas not so when he was Head: But then, as I have said it oft before ye, A Cavalier was but a Type of Tory. The Curs durst then not bark, but all the Breed Is much encreas’d since that good Man was dead: Yet then they rail’ d against the Good Old Cause, Rail’d foolishly for Loyalty, and Laws; But when the Saints had put them to a stand, We left them Loyalty, and took their Land: Yea, and the pious Work of Reformation Rewarded was with Plunder, Sequestration. Thus cant the Faithful; nay, they’re so uncivil, To pray us harmless Players to the Devil. When this is all th’ Exception they can make, They damn us for our Glorious Master’s sake. But why ’gainst us do you unjustly arm? Our small Religion sure can do no harm; Or if it do, since that’s the only thing, We will reform when you are true to th’ King.

Notes on the Text.

435 The Roundheads.

Dedication

p. 337 To The Right Noble Henry Fitz-Roy. The Dedicatory Epistle only appears in the two 4tos, 1682 and 1698.

p. 337, l. 31 Good Old Couse. ‘Couse’ to represent a Cockney pronunciation.

p. 338, l. 28 Ignoramus the 1st and the 2d. Mrs. Behn deftly compares the verdict of that faction which would have damned her play with the verdict given by the City jury who acquitted Shaftesbury.

Prologue

p. 341, l. 7 ycleped Hewson. 4to ‘Eclipsed Huson’.

Dramatis Personæ

p. 343 Dramatis Personæ. I have added, ‘Captain of the Prentices, Page to Lady Fleetwood, A Felt-maker, A Joyner, Doorkeeper, Two Clerks, Three Soldiers, Women Servants to Lady Lambert, Petitioners, Servants, Guards.’ The name of Lady Desbro’s Page, Tom, is supplied by Act iv, 1. For Sanctify’d Mobile, 1724 reads ‘Sanctify’d Mobility’.