Book II

, l. 666:—

To dance With Lapland witches, while the labouring moon Eclipses at their charms.

## Act V: Scene iia

p. 329 _the German Princess._ Mary Morders, alias Stedman, alias Kentish Moll, a notorious imposter of the day, who pretended to be a Princess from Germany. She had been transported to Jamaica in 1671, but returning too soon and stealing a piece of plate, was hanged at Tyburn, 22 January, 1673. Her adventures formed the plot of a play by Tom Porter, _A Witty Combat; or, The Female Victor_ (4to, 1663). Kirkman’s _Counterfeit Lady Unveiled_ (8vo, 1673), contains very ample details of her career. Pepys went to visit her ‘at the Gatehouse at Westminster’, 29 May, 1663. In talk he was ‘high in the defence of her wit and spirit’ (7 June, 1663). 15 April, 1664, the diarist further notes: ‘To the Duke’s house and there saw _The German Princess_ acted by the woman herself ... the whole play ... is very simple, unless, here and there, a witty sprinkle or two.’ This piece was doubtless identical with Porter’s tragi-comedy.

p. 329 _four Shillings, or half a Crown._ Four shillings was the price of admission to the boxes on the first tier of the theatre; half a crown to the pit. These sums are very frequently alluded to in prologue and epilogue. Dryden in his second epilogue to _The Duke of Guise_ (1682), after referring to the brawls and rioting of the pit, says:—

This makes our boxes full; for men of sense Pay their four shillings in their own defence.

The epilogue (spoken by Mrs. Bontell) to Corye’s _The Generous Enemies_ (1671), has these lines:—

Though there I see—Propitious Angels sit [points at the Boxes. Still there’s a Nest of Devils in the Pit, By whom our Plays, like Children, just alive, Pinch’d by the Fairies, never after thrive: ’Tis but your Half-crown, Sirs: that won’t undo.

Epilogue

p. 330 _Rotas._ The Rota was a political club founded in 1659 by James Harrington. It advocated a system of rotation in filling government offices.

331

THE ROUNDHEADS; OR, THE GOOD OLD CAUSE.

332

Scenes described in (parentheses) are unnumbered.

Argument.

Source.

Theatrical History. Dedication Prologue Dramatis Personæ.

## Act I.

## Scene I. _The Street._

## Scene II. _A Chamber in Lambert’s House._

## Act II.

## Scene I. _A Chamber of State in Lambert’s House._

## Act III.

## Scene I. _A Council-Chamber._

## Scene II. _A Chamber in Lady Desbro’s House._

## Act IV.

## Scene I. _A Chamber in La. Desbro’s House._

## Scene II. _A fine Chamber in La. Lambert’s House._

## Scene III. _A great Chamber of State._

## Scene IV. _Flat._

## Act V.

## Scene I. _A Street._

## Scene II. _A Chamber in La. Lambert’s House._

(_Table with Papers_)

## Scene III. _The Street._

## Scene IV. _A Chamber in Lambert’s House._

## Scene V. _A Street._

Notes to _The Roundheads_

333 ARGUMENT.

The historical state of affairs 1659-60 was briefly as follows:—the Protectorate of Richard Cromwell expired 22 April, 1659. Hereupon Fleetwood and some other officers recalled the Long Parliament (Rump), which was constituted the ruling power of England, a select council of state having the executive. Lambert, however, with other dissentients was expelled from Parliament, 12 October, 1659. He and his troops marched to Newcastle; but the soldiers deserted him for General Fairfax, who had declared for a free Parliament, and were garrisoned at York. Here Monk, entering England 2 January, 1660, joined them with his forces. Lambert, deprived of his followers, was obliged to return to London. His prompt arrest by order of Parliament followed, and he, Sir Harry Vane and other members of the Committee of Safety were placed in strict confinement. On 5 March Lambert was imprisoned in the Tower, whence he escaped on 10 April, only to be recaptured a fortnight later. There are vivid pictures in Aubrey, Pepys, and other writers, of the wild enthusiasm at the fall of the Rump Parliament, with bonfires blazing, all the church bells ringing, and the populace of London carousing and pledging King Charles on their knees in the street. ‘They made little gibbets and roasted rumps of mutton. Nay, I saw some very good rumps of beef,’ writes Aubrey, and Pepys is even more vivid in his tale than the good antiquary.

King Charles landed at Dover, 26 May, amid universal rejoicings.

Mrs. Behn has (quite legitimately) made considerable departures from strict historical fact and the sequence of events for her dramatic purposes.

Lambert and Fleetwood are scheming for the supreme power, and both intrigue with Lord Wariston, the chairman of the Committee of Safety, for his good word and influence. Lambert meantime fools Fleetwood by flattery and a feigned indifference. Lady Lambert, who is eagerly expecting her husband to be proclaimed King, and is assuming the state and title of royalty to the anger of Cromwell’s widow, falls in love with a cavalier, Loveless. Her friend, Lady Desbro’, a thorough loyalist at heart, though wedded to an old parliamentarian, has long been enamoured of Freeman, the cavalier’s companion. Lambert surprises Loveless and Freeman with his wife and Lady Desbro’, but Lady Lambert pretending they have come to petition her, abruptly dismisses them both and so assuages all suspicion. At a meeting of the Committee the two gallants are sent to prison for a loyal outburst on the part of Loveless. Ananias Goggle, a lay elder, who having offered liberties to Lady Desbro’ is in her power, is by her obliged to obtain her lover’s release, and she at once holds an interview with him. They are interrupted by Desbro’ himself, but Freeman is concealed and makes an undiscovered exit behind the shelter of Goggle’s flowing cloak.

Loveless is brought to Lady Lambert at night. She endeavours to dazzle him by showing the regalia richly set out and adorned with lights. He puts by, however, crown and sceptre and rebukes her overweening ambition. Suddenly the Committee, who have been drinking deep, burst 334 in upon them dancing a riotous dance. Loveless is hurriedly concealed under the coverlet of a couch, and Lady Lambert sits thereon seemingly at her devotions. Her husband takes his place by her side, but rolls off as the gallant slips to the ground. The lights fall down and are extinguished, the men fly howling and bawling ‘A Plot! A Plot!’ in drunken terror. Lambert is cajoled and hectored into believing himself mistaken owing to his potations. The ladies hold a council to correct and enquire into women’s wrongs, but on a sudden, news is brought that Lambert’s followers have turned against him and that he is imprisoned in the Tower. The city rises against the Parliament and the Rump is dissolved. Loveless and Freeman rescue Lady Lambert and Lady Desbro’, whose old husband has fallen down dead with fright. The parliamentarians endeavour to escape, but Wariston, Goggle, and Hewson—a leading member of the Committee—are detected and maltreated by the mob. As they are haled away to prison the people give themselves up to general merry-making and joy.

SOURCE.

The purely political part of _The Roundheads; or, The Good Old Cause_ was founded by Mrs. Behn on John Tatham’s _The Rump_; or, _The Mirror of the Late Times_ (4to, 1660, 4to, 1661, and again 1879 in his collected works,) which was produced on the eve of the Restoration, in February, 1660, at the Private House, i.e. small theatre, in Dorset Court. The company which played here had been brought together by William Beeston, but singularly little is known of its brief career and only one name has been recorded, that of George Jolly, the leading actor. Tatham was the author of the Lord Mayor’s pageants 1657-64. His plays, four in number, together with a rare entertainment, _London’s Glory_ (1660), have been well edited by Maidment and Logan.

_The Rump_ met with great success. It is certainly a brisk and lively piece, and coming at the juncture it did must have been extraordinarily effective. As a topical key-play reflecting the moment it is indeed admirable, and the crescendo of overwhelming satire, all the keener for the poet’s deep earnestness, culminating in the living actors, yesterday’s lords and law-givers, running to and fro the London streets, one bawling ‘Ink or pens, ink or pens!’, another ‘Boots or shoes, boots or shoes to mend!’, a third ‘Fine Seville oranges, fine lemons!’, whilst Mrs. Cromwell exchanges Billingsgate with a crowd of jeering boys, must have caused the house absolutely to rock with merriment.

With all its point and cleverness _The Rump_, however, from a technical point of view, is ill-digested and rough. The scenes were evidently thrown off hastily, and sadly lack refining and revision. Mrs. Behn has made the happiest use of rather unpromising material. The intrigues between Loveless and Lady Lambert, who in Tatham is very woodeny and awkward, between Freeman and Lady Desbro’, which give _The Roundheads_ unity and dramatic point, are entirely her own invention. In the original _Rump_ neither cavaliers nor Lady Desbro’ appear. Ananias Goggle also, the canting lay elder of Clements, with his subtle casuistry that jibs at ‘the person not the office,’ a dexterous character sketch, alive and acute, we owe to Mrs. Behn.

335 Amongst the many plays, far too numerous even to catalogue, that scarify the puritans and their zealot tribe, _The Cheats_ (1662), by Wilson, and Sir Robert Howard’s _The Committee_ (1662), which long kept the stage, and, in a modified form, _The Honest Thieves_, was seen as late as the second half of the nineteenth century, are pre-eminently the best. Both possess considerable merit and are worthy of the highest comic traditions of the theatre.

As might have been expected, the dissolution of the Rump Parliament let loose a flood of political literature, squibs, satires and lampoons. Such works as _The famous Tragedie of the Life and Death of Mrs. Rump ... as it was presented on a burning stage at Westminster, the 29th of May, 1660_ (4to, 1660), are of course valueless save from a purely historical interest. A large number of songs and ballads were brought together and published in two parts, 1662, reprint 1874. This collection (_The Rump_), sometimes witty, sometimes angry, sometimes obscene, is weighty evidence of the loathing inspired by the republicans and their misrule, but it is of so personal and topical a nature that the allusions would hardly be understood by any one who had not made a very close and extended study of those critical months.

THEATRICAL HISTORY.

_The Roundheads; or, The Good Old Cause_ was produced at the Duke’s Theatre in 1682. They were unsettled and hazardous times. The country was convulsed by the judicial murders and horrors which followed in the train of the pseudo-Popish Plot engineered by the abominable Gates and his accomplices. King and Parliament were at hopeless variance. The air was charged with strife, internecine hatreds and unrest. In such an atmosphere and in such circumstances politics could not but make themselves keenly felt upon the stage. The actors were indeed ‘abstracts and brief chronicles of the time’, and the theatre became a very Armageddon for the poets. As _A Lenten Prologue refus’d by the Players_ (1682) puts it:—

’Plots and Parties give new matter birth And State distractions serve you here for mirth! ....... The Stage, like old Rump Pulpits, is become The scene of News, a furious Party’s drum.’

Produced on 4 December, 1682, Dryden and Lee’s excellent Tragedy, _The Duke of Guise_, which the Whigs vainly tried to suppress, created a furore. Crowne’s _City Politics_ (1683) is a crushing satire, caricaturing Oates, Stephen College, old Sergeant Maynard and their faction with rare skill. Southerne’s _Loyal Brother_ (1682), eulogizes the Duke of York; the scope of D’Urfey’s _Sir Barnaby Whigg_ (1681), can be told by its title, indeed the prologue says of the author:—

’That he shall know both parties now he glories, By hisses th’ Whigs, and by their claps the Tories.’

His _Royalist_ (1682) follows in the same track.

Even those plays which were entirely non-political are inevitably prefaced with a mordant prologue or wound up by an epilogue that has party venom and mustard in its tail.

336 It would be surprising if so popular a writer as Mrs. Behn had not put a political play on the stage at such a juncture, and we find her well to the fore with _The Roundheads_, which she followed up in the same year with _The City Heiress_, another openly topical comedy.

The cast of _The Roundheads_ is not given in any printed copy, and we have no exact means of apportioning the characters, which must have entailed the whole comic strength of the house. It is known that Betterton largely refrained from appearing in political comedies, and no doubt Smith took the part of Loveless, whilst Freeman would have fallen to Joseph Williams. Nokes was certainly Lambert; and Leigh, Wariston. Mrs. Leigh probably played Lady Cromwell or Gilliflower; Mrs. Barry, Lady Lambert; and Mrs. Currer, Lady Desbro’. The piece seems to have been very successful, and to have kept the stage at intervals for some twenty years.

337

To the Right Noble

HENRY FITZ-ROY,

Duke of _Grafton_, Earl of _Sutton_, Viscount of _Ipswich_, Baron of _Sudbury_, Knight of the most Noble Order of the Garter, and Colonel of his Majesties Regiment of Foot-Guards, &c.

May it please Your Grace,

Dedications which were Originally design’d, as a Tribute to the Reverence and just esteem we ought to pay the _Great_ and _Good_ ; are now so corrupted with Flattery, that they rarely either find a Reception in the World, or merit that Patronage they wou’d implore. But I without fear Approach the great Object, being above that mean and mercenary Art; nor can I draw the Lovely Picture half so charming and so manly as it is; and that Author may more properly boast of a Lucky Hitt, whose choice and Fortune is so good, than if he had pleas’d all the different ill Judging world besides in the business of the _Play_; for none that way, can ever hope to please all; in an Age when Faction rages, and different Parties disagree in all things—- But coming the first day to a new Play with a Loyal Title, and then even the sober and tender conscienc’d, throng as to a forbidden Conventicle, fearing the Cub of their old Bear of Reformation should be expos’d, to be the scorn of the wicked, and dreading (tho’ but the faint shadow of their own deformity) their _Rebellion, Murders, Massacres_ and _Villanies_, from forty upwards, should be represented for the better undeceiving and informing of the World, flock in a full Assembly with a pious design to Hiss and Rail it as much out of countenance as they would _Monarchy, Religion, Laws_, and _Honesty_; throwing the _Act of Oblivion_ in our Teeths, as if that (whose mercy cannot make them forget their old Rebellion) cou’d hinder honest Truths from breaking out upon ’em in Edifying Plays, where the Loyal hands ever out-do their venom’d Hiss; a good and happy Omen, if Poets may be allow’d for Prophets as of old they were: and ’tis as easily seen at a new Play how the Royal Interest thrives, as at a City Election, how the _Good Old Couse_ is carried on; as a Noble Peer lately said, _Tho’ the Tories have got the better of us at the Play, we carried it in the City by many Voices, God be praised!_

This Play, call’d _The Roundheads_, which I humbly lay at your Graces feet, Pardon the Title, and Heaven defend you from the bloody Race, was carried in the House _nemine contra dicente_, by the Royal Party, and under your Grace’s Illustrious Patronage is safe from any new Seditious affronts abroad; Your Grace alone, whom Heaven and Nature has form’d the most 338 adorable Person in the whole Creation, with all the advantages of a glorious Birth, has a double right and power to defend all that approach you for sanctuary; your very Beauty is a Guard to all you daigne to make safe: for You were born for Conquest every way; even what _Phanatick_, what peevish _Politician_, testy with _Age, Diseases_, miscarried _Plots_, disappointed _Revolutions_, envious of _Power_, of _Princes_, and of _Monarchy_, and mad with _Zeal_ for _Change_ and _Reformation_, could yet be so far lost to sense of Pleasure, as not to turn a Rebel to Revenge the _Good old Cause_, and the patronage to _Plebean_ sedition with only looking on you, ’twou’d force his meger face to blushing smiles, and make him swear he had mistook the side, curse his own Party, and if possible, be reconciled to Honesty again: such power have charms like Yours to calm the soul, and will in spight of You plead for me to the disaffected, even when they are at Wars with your Birth and Power. But this _Play_, for which I humbly beg your Grace’s Protection, needs it in a more peculiar manner, it having drawn down Legions upon its head, for its Loyalty—_what, to Name us_ cries one, _’tis most abominable, unheard of daring_ cries another—_she deserves to be swing’d_ cries a third; as if twere all a Libel, a Scandal impossible to be prov’d, or that their Rogueries were of so old a Date their Reign were past Remembrance or History; when they take such zealous care to renew it daily to our memories: And I am satisfied, that they that will justifie the best of these Traytors, deserves the fate of the worst, and most manifestly declare to the World by it, they wou’d be at the _Old Game_ their fore-Fathers play’d with so good success: yet if there be any honest loyal man allied to any here nam’d, I heartily beg his pardon for any offensive Truth I have spoken, and ’tis a wonderful thing that amongst so Numerous a Flock they will not allow of one mangy Sheep; not one Rogue in the whole Generation of the Association.

_Ignoramus the_ 1st _and the_ 2d.

But as they are I leave ’em to your Grace to Judge of ’em; to whom I humbly present this small Mirror, of the late wretched Times: wherein your Grace may see something of the Miseries three the Most Glorious Kingdoms of the Universe were reduc’d to; where your Royal Ancestors victoriously Reign’d for so many hundred years: How they were Governed, Parcell’d out, and deplorably inslav’d, and to what Low, Prostituted Lewdness they fell at last: where the Nobility and Gentry were the most contemn’d and despis’d part of them, and such Meane (and till then obscure) Villains Rul’d, and Tyrannized, that no _Age_, nor _Time_, or scarce a Parish Book makes mentions or cou’d show there was any such Name or Family. Yet these were those that impudently Tug’d for Empire, and Prophan’d that illustrious Throne and Court, so due then, and possest now (through the infinite Mercies of God to this bleeding Nation) by the best of Monarchs; 339 a Monarch, who had the divine goodness to Pardon even his worst of Enemies what was past; Nay, out of his Vast and God-like Clemency, did more than Heaven it self can do, put it out of his Power by _an Act of Oblivion_, to punish the unparalell’d Injuries done His Sacred Person, and the rest of the Royal Family: How great his Patience has been since, I leave to all the World to judge: but Heaven be prais’d, he has not yet forgot the Sufferings and Murders of the Glorious Martyr of ever Blessed memory, Your Graces Sacred Grandfather, and by what Arts and Ways that Devilish Plot was layed! and will like a skilful Pilate, by the wreck of one Rich Vessel, learn how to shun the danger of this present Threatning and save the rest from sinking; The Clouds already begin to disappear, and the face of things to change, thanks to Heaven, his Majesties infinite Wisdom, and the Over-Zeal of the (falsly called) _True Protestant Party_; Now we may pray for the King and his Royal Brother, defend his Cause, and assert his Right, without the fear of a taste of the Old Sequestration call’d a _Fine_; Guard the Illustrious Pair, good Heaven, from Hellish Plots, and all the Devilish Machinations of Factious Cruelties: and you, great Sir, (whose Merits have so Justly deserv’d that glorious Command so lately trusted to your Care, which Heaven increase, and make your glad Regiment Armies for our safety. May you become the great Example of Loyalty and Obedience, and stand a firm and unmoveable Pillar to _Monarchy_, a Noble Bullwark to _Majesty_; defend the Sacred Cause, imploy all that Youth, Courage, and Noble Conduct which God and Nature purposely has endued you with, to serve the Royal Interest: You, Sir, who are obliged by a double Duty to Love, Honour, and Obey his Majesty, both as a Father and a King! O undissolvable Knot! O Sacred Union! what Duty, what Love, what Adoration can express or repay the Debt we owe the first, or the Allegiance due to the last, but where both meet in one, to make the Tye Eternal; Oh what Counsel, what Love of Power, what fancied Dreams of Empire, what fickle Popularity can inspire the heart of Man, or any Noble mind, with Sacrilegious thoughts against it, can harbour or conceive a stubborn disobedience: Oh what Son can desert the Cause of an Indulgent Parent, what Subject, of such a Prince, without renouncing the Glory of his Birth, his Loyalty, and good Nature.

Ah Royal lovely Youth! beware of false Ambition; wisely believe your Elevated Glory, (at least) more happy then a Kings, you share their Joys, their pleasures and magnificence, without the toils and business of a _Monarch_, their carefull days and restless thoughtfull nights; know, you art blest with all that Heaven can give, or you can wish; your Mind and Person such, so excellent, that Love knows no fault it would wish to mend, nor Envy to increase! blest with a Princess of such undisputable charming Beauty, as if 340 Heaven, designing to take a peculiar care in all that concerns your Happiness, had form’d her on purpose, to compleat it.

Hail happy glorious Pair! the perfect joy and pleasure of all that look on ye, for whom all Tongues and Hearts have Prayers and Blessings; May you out-live Sedition, and see your Princely Race as Numerous as Beautifull, and those all great and Loyal Supporters of a long Race of _Monarchs_ of this Sacred Line, This shall be the perpetual wish, this the Eternal Prayer of

_SIR,_ _Your Graces most Humble, and most Obedient Servant,_

A. BEHN.

341

THE ROUND-HEADS; or, the Good Old Cause.

PROLOGUE,

Spoken by the Ghost of _Hewson_ ascending from Hell dress’d as a Cobler.

I am the Ghost of him who was a true Son Of the late _Good Old Cause_, ycleped _Hewson_, Rous’d by strange Scandal from th’ eternal Flame With noise of Plots, of wondrous Birth and Name, Whilst the sly Jesuit robs us of our Fame. Can all their Conclave, tho with Hell th’ agree,

## Act Mischief equal to Presbytery?

Look back on our Success in Forty One, Were ever braver Villanies carried on, Or new ones now more hopefully begun? And shall our Unsuccess our Merit lose, And make us quit the Glory of our Cause? No, hire new Villains, Rogues without Remorse, And let no Law nor Conscience stop your Course; Let Politicians order the Confusion, And let the Saints pay pious Contribution. Pay those that rail, and those that can delude With scribling Nonsense the loose Multitude. Pay well your Witnesses, they may not run To the right Side, and tell who set ’em on. Pay ’em so well, that they may ne’er recant, And so turn honest merely out of want. Pay Juries, that no formal Laws may harm us, Let Treason be secur’d by _Ignoramus_. 332 Pay Bully Whig, who loyal Writers bang, And honest Tories in Effigie hang: Pay those that burn the Pope to please the Fools, And daily pay Right Honourable Tools; Pay all the Pulpit Knaves that Treason brew, And let the zealous Sisters pay ’em too; Justices, bound by Oath and Obligation, Pay them the utmost Price of their Damnation, Not to disturb our useful Congregation. Nor let the Learned Rabble be forgot, Those pious Hands that crown our hopeful Plot. No, modern Statesmen cry, ’tis Lunacy To barter Treason with such Rogues as we. But subtiler _Oliver_ did not disdain His mightier Politicks with ours to join. I for all Uses in a State was able, Cou’d Mutiny, cou’d fight, hold forth, and cobble. Your lazy Statesman may sometimes direct, But your small busy Knaves the Treason act.

343

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

MEN. Lord _Fleetwood_, Competitors for the Crown, but _Lambert_ is General of the Army. Lord _Lambert_, Lord _Wariston_, Chairman of the Committee of Safety. _Hewson_, Commanders, and Committee-men. _Desbro_, _Duckingfield_, _Corbet_, Lord _Whitlock_. _Ananias Goggle_, Lay Elder of _Clement’s_ Parish. _A Rabble_ of the Sanctify’d Mobile. Corporal _Right_, an _Oliverian_ Commander, but honest, and a Cavalier in his Heart. _Loveless_, a Royalist, a Man of Honour, in love with Lady _Lambert._ _Freeman_, his Friend, of the same Character, in love with Lady _Desbro_. Captain of the Prentices. Two Pages to Lady _Lambert_. _Tom_, Page to Lady _Desbro_. Page to Lady _Fleetwood_. A Felt-maker. A Joyner. Doorkeeper. Two Clerks. Three Soldiers. WOMEN. Lady _Lambert_, in love with _Loveless_. Lady _Desbro_, in love with _Freeman_. Lady _Fleetwood_. Lady _Cromwell_. _Gilliflower_, Lady _Lambert’s_ Old Woman. Several Ladies, for Redress of Grievances. Women Servants to Lady _Lambert_. Petitioners, Servants, Guards, Footmen, Fidlers, and a Band of Loyal City Apprentices.

344

## ACT I.

## Scene I. The Street.

Enter three _Soldiers_, and Corporal _Right_.

Cor. Ah, Rogue, the World runs finely round, the business is done.

1 Sold. Done! the Town’s our own, my fine Rascal.

2 Sold. We’ll have Harlots by the Belly, Sirrah.

1 Sold. Those are Commodities I confess I wou’d fain be trucking for—but no words of that, Boy.

Cor. Stand, who goes there?

[To them a Joyner and a Felt-maker.

1 Sold. Who are you for?—hah!

Joy. Are for, Friend? we are for Gad and the Lord _Fleetwood_.

1 Sold. _Fleetwood!_ knock ’em down, _Fleetwood_, that sniveling Thief?

Felt. Why, Friends, who are ye for?

Cor. For! who shou’d we be for, but _Lambert_, Noble _Lambert?_ Is this a time o’th’ day to declare for _Fleetwood_, with a Pox? indeed, i’th’ Morning ’twas a Question had like to have been decided with push a Pike.

2 Sold. Dry blows wou’d ne’er ha’ don’t, some must have sweat Blood for’t; but—’tis now decided.

Joy. Decided!

2 Sold. Yes, decided, Sir, without your Rule for’t.

Joy. Decided! by whom, Sir? by us the Free-born Subjects of _England_, by the Honourable Committee of Safety, or the Right Reverend City? without which, Sir, I humbly conceive, your Declaration for _Lambert_ is illegal, and against the Property of the People.

2 Sold. Plain _Lambert_; here’s a saucy Dog of a Joyner; 345 Sirrah, get ye home, and mind your Trade, and save the Hangman a labour.

Joy. Look ye, Friend, I fear no Hang-man in _Christendom_; for Conscience and Publick Good, for Liberty and Property, I dare as far as any Man.

2 Sold. Liberty and Property, with a Pox, in the Mouth of a Joyner: you are a pretty Fellow to settle the Nation—what says my Neighbour Felt-maker?

Felt. Why, verily, I have a high respect for my honourable Lord _Fleetwood_, he is my intimate Friend; and till I find his Party the weaker, I hope my Zeal will be strengthned for him.

2 Sold. Zeal for _Fleetwood!_ Zeal for a Halter, and that’s your due: Why, what has he ever done for you? Can he lead you out to Battle? Can he silence the very Cannon with his Eloquence alone?—Can he talk—or fight—or—

Felt. But verily he can pay those that can, and that’s as good—and he can pray—

2 Sold. Let him pray, and we’ll fight, and see whose business is done first; we are for the General who carries Charms in every Syllable; can act both the Soldier and the Courtier, at once expose his Breast to Dangers for our sakes—and tell the rest of the pretended Slaves a fair Tale, but hang ’em sooner than trust ’em.

1 Sold. Ay, ay, a _Lambert_, a _Lambert_, he has Courage, _Fleetwood’s_ an Ass to him.

Felt. Hum—here’s Reason, Neighbour. [To the Joyner.

Joy. That’s all one, we do not act by Reason.

Cor. _Fleetwood’s_ a Coward.

2 Sold. A Blockhead.

1 Sold. A sniveling Fool; a General in the Hangings, no better.

Joy. What think you then of _Vane?_

2 Sold. As of a Fool, that has dreamt of a new Religion, and is only fit to reign in the Fifth Monarchy he preaches so much up? but no King in this Age.

346 Felt. What of _Haslerig_?

2 Sold. A Hangman for _Haslerig_. I cry, No, no, One and all, a _Lambert_, a _Lambert_; he is our General, our Protector, our Keiser, our—even what he pleases himself.

1 Sold. Well, if he pleases himself, he pleases me.

2 Sold. He’s our Rising Sun, and we’ll adore him, for the Speaker’s Glory’s set.

Cor. At nought, Boys; how the Rogue look’d when his Coach was stop’d!

Joy. Under favour, what said the Speaker?

2 Sold. What said he? prithee, what cou’d he say that we wou’d admit for Reason? Reason and our Bus’ness are two things: Our Will was Reason and Law too, and the Word of Command lodg’d in our Hilts: _Cobbet_ and _Duckenfield_ shew’d ’em Cockpit-Law.

Cor. He understood not Soldier’s Dialect; the Language of the Sword puzzled his Understanding; the Keenness of which was too sharp for his Wit, and over-rul’d his Robes—therefore he very mannerly kiss’d his Hand, and wheel’d about—

2 Sold. To the place from whence he came.

Cor. And e’er long to the place of Execution.

1 Sold. No, damn him, he’ll have his Clergy.

Joy. Why, is he such an Infidel to love the Clergy?

Cor. For his Ends; but come let’s go drink the General’s Health, _Lambert_; not _Fleetwood_, that Son of a Custard, always quaking.

2 Sold. Ay, ay, _Lambert_ I say—besides, he’s a Gentleman.

Felt. Come, come, Brother Soldier, let me tell you, I fear you have a _Stewart_ in your Belly.

Cor. I am sure you have a Rogue in your Heart, Sirrah, which a Man may perceive thro that sanctified Dog’s Face of yours; and so get ye gone, ye Rascals, and delude the Rabble with your canting Politicks. [Every one beats ’em.

Felt. Nay, an you be in Wrath, I’ll leave you.

347 Joy. No matter, Sir, I’ll make you know I’m a Freeborn Subject, there’s Law for the Righteous, Sir, there’s Law. [Go out.

Cor. There’s Halters, ye Rogues—

2 Sold. Come, Lads, let’s to the Tavern, and drink Success to Change; I doubt not but to see ’em chop about, till it come to our great Hero again—Come to the Tavern.

[Going out, are met by _Loveless_ and _Freeman_, who enter, and stay the _Corporal_.

Cor. I’ll follow ye, Comrade, presently.

[Ex. the rest of the Soldiers.

—Save ye, noble Colonel.

Free. How is’t, Corporal?

Cor. A brave World, Sir, full of Religion, Knavery, and Change: we shall shortly see better Days.

Free. I doubt it, Corporal.

Cor. I’ll warrant you, Sir,—but have you had never a Billet, no Present, nor Love—remembrance to day, from my good Lady _Desbro?_

Free. None, and wonder at it. Hast thou not seen her Page to day?

Cor. Faith, Sir, I was imploy’d in Affairs of State, by our Protector that shall be, and could not call.

Free. Protector that shall be! who’s that, _Lambert_, or _Fleetwood_, or both?

Cor. I care not which, so it be a Change; but I mean the General:—but, Sir, my Lady _Desbro_ is now at Morning-Lecture here hard by, with the Lady _Lambert_.

Lov. Seeking the Lord for some great Mischief or other.

Free. We have been there, but could get no opportunity of speaking to her—_Loveless_, know this Fellow—he’s honest and true to the Hero, tho a Red-Coat. I trust him with my Love, and have done with my Life.

Lov. Love! Thou canst never make me believe thou art earnestly in love with any of that damn’d Reformation.

Free. Thou art a Fool; where I find Youth and Beauty, I adore, let the Saint be true or false.

348 Lov. ’Tis a Scandal to one of us to converse with ’em; they are all sanctify’d Jilts; and there can neither be Credit nor Pleasure in keeping ’em company; and ’twere enough to get the Scandal of an Adherer to their devilish Politicks, to be seen with ’em.

Free. What, their Wives?

Lov. Yes, their Wives. What seest thou in ’em but Hypocrisy? Make love to ’em, they answer in Scripture.

Free. Ay, and lie with you in Scripture too. Of all Whores, give me your zealous Whore; I never heard a Woman talk much of Heaven, but she was much for the Creature too. What do’st think I had thee to the Meeting for?

Lov. To hear a Rascal hold forth for Bodkins and Thimbles, Contribution, my beloved! to carry on the good Cause, that is, Roguery, Rebellion, and Treason, profaning the sacred Majesty of Heaven, and our glorious Sovereign.

Free. But—were there not pretty Women there?

Lov. Damn ’em for sighing, groaning Hypocrites.

Free. But there was one, whom that handsome Face and Shape of yours, gave more occasion for sighing, than any Mortification caus’d by the Cant of the Lay-Elder in the half Hogs-Head: Did’st thou not mind her?

Lov. Not I, damn it, I was all Rage; and hadst not thou restrain’d me, I had certainly pull’d that Rogue of a Holder forth by the Ears from his sanctify’d Tub. ’Sdeath, he hum’d and haw’d all my Patience away, nosed and snivel’d me to Madness. Heaven! That thou shouldst suffer such Vermin to infect the Earth, such Wolves amongst thy Flocks, such Thieves and Robbers of all Laws of God and Man, in thy Holy Temples. I rave to think to what thou’rt fall’n, poor _England!_

Free. But the she Saint—

Lov. No more; were she as fair as Fancy could imagine, to see her there wou’d make me loath the Form; she that can listen to the dull Nonsense, the bantering of such a 349 Rogue, such an illiterate Rascal, must be a Fool, past sense of loving, _Freeman_.

Free. Thou art mistaken.—But, didst thou mind her next the Pulpit?

Lov. A Plague upon the whole Congregation: I minded nothing but how to fight the Lord’s Battle with that damn’d sham Parson, whom I had a mind to beat.

Free. My Lady _Desbro_ is not of that Persuasion, but an errant Heroick in her Heart, and feigns it only to have the better occasion to serve the Royal Party. I knew her, and lov’d her before she married.

Lov. She may chance then to be sav’d.

Free. Come, I’ll have thee bear up briskly to some one of ’em, it may redeem thy Sequestration; which, now thou see’st no hopes of compounding, puts thee out of Patience.

Lov. Let ’em take it, and the Devil do ’em Good with it; I scorn it should be said I have a Foot of Land in this ungrateful and accursed Island; I’d rather beg where Laws are obey’d, and Justice perform’d, than be powerful where Rogues and base-born Rascals rule the roast.

Free. But suppose now, dear _Loveless_, that one of the Wives of these Pageant Lords should fall in love with thee, and get thy Estate again, or pay the double for’t?

Lov. I wou’d refuse it.

Free. And this for a little dissembl’d Love, a little Drudgery—

Lov. Not a Night, by Heaven—not an Hour—no, not a single Kiss. I’d rather make love to an _Incubus_.

Free. But suppose ’twere the new Protectress her self, the fine Lady _Lambert?_

Lov. The greatest Devil of all; damn her, do’st think I’ll cuckold the Ghost of old _Oliver_?

Free. The better; There’s some Revenge in’t; do’st know her?

Lov. Never saw her, nor care to do.

Cor. Colonel, do you command me any thing?

350 Free. Yes, I’ll send thee with a Note—Let’s step into a Shop and write it; _Loveless_, stay a moment, and I’ll be with thee. [Ex. _Free._ and _Corporal_.

Enter L. _Lambert_, L. _Desbro_, _Gilliflower_, _Pages_ with great Bibles, and Footmen. _Loveless_ walks sullenly, not seeing ’em. [L. _Lambert’s_ Train carried.

L. Lam. O, I’m impatient to know his Name; ah, _Desbro_, he betray’d all my Devotion; and when I would have pray’d, Heav’n knows it was to him, and for him only.

L. Des. What manner of Man was it?

L. Lam. I want Words to describe him; not tall, nor short; well made, and such a Face—

Love, Wit and Beauty revel’d in his Eyes; From whence he shot a thousand winged Darts That pierc’d quite through my Soul.

L. Des. Seem’d he a Gentleman?

L. Lam. A God! altho his outside were but mean; But he shone thro like Lightning from a Cloud, And shot more piercing Rays.

L. Des. Staid he long?

L. Lam. No, methought he grew displeas’d with our Devotion, And seem’d to contradict the Parson with his angry Eyes. A Friend he had too with him, young and handsom, Who seeing some Disorder in his Actions, got him away. —I had almost forgot all Decency, And started up to call him; but my Quality, And wanting something to excuse that Fondness, Made me decline with very much ado.

Gill. Heavens, Madam, I’ll warrant they were Heroicks.

L. Lam. Heroicks!

Gill. Cavaliers, Madam, of the Royal Party.

L. Des. They were so, I knew one of ’em.

L. Lam. Ah, _Desbro_, do’st thou? Ah, Heav’ns, that they should prove Heroicks!

351 L. Des. You might have known that by the Conquest; I never heard any one o’t’ other Party ever gain’d a Heart; and indeed, Madam, ’tis a just Revenge, our Husbands make Slaves of them, and they kill all their Wives. [_Lov._ sees ’em, and starts.

Lov. Hah, what have we here?—Women—faith, and handsome too—I never saw a Form more excellent; who e’er they are, they seem of Quality.—By Heav’n, I cannot take my Eyes from her. [Pointing to L. _Lamb_.

L. Lam. Ha, he’s yonder, my Heart begins to fail, My trembling Limbs refusing to support me— His Eyes seem fix’d on mine too; ah, I faint— [Leans on _Des_.

Gill. My Lady’s Coach, _William_—quickly, she faints.

Lov. Madam, can an unfortunate Stranger’s aid add any thing to the recovery of so much Beauty? [Bowing, and holding her.

L. Lam. Ah, wou’d he knew how much! [Aside.

Gill. Support her, Sir, till her Ladyship’s Coach comes—I beseech ye.

Lov. Not _Atlas_ bore up Heaven with greater Pride.

L. Lam. —I beg your Pardon, Sir, for this Disorder, That has occasion’d you so great a Trouble— You seem a Gentleman—and consequently May need some Service done you; name the way, I shall be glad to let you see my Gratitude.

Lov. If there be ought in me, that merits this amazing Favour from you, I owe my Thanks to Nature that endow’d me with something in my Face that spoke my Heart.

L. Lam. Heaven! How he looks and speaks— [To _Desbro_, aside.

L. Des. Oh, these Heroicks, Madam, have the most charming Tongues.

L. Lam. Pray come to me—and ask for any of my Officers, and you shall have admittance—

352 Lov. Who shall I ask for, Madam? for I’m yet ignorant to whom I owe for this great Bounty.

L. Lam. Not know me! Thou art indeed a Stranger. I thought I’d been so elevated above the common Crowd, it had been visible to all Eyes who I was.

Lov. Pardon my Ignorance. My Soul conceives ye all that Heaven can make ye, Of Great, of Fair and Excellent; But cannot guess a Name to call you by But such as would displease ye— My Heart begins to fail, and by her Vanity I fear she’s one of the new Race of Quality: —But be she Devil, I must love that Form. [Aside.

L. Lam. Hard Fate of Greatness, we so highly elevated Are more expos’d to Censure than the little ones, By being forc’d to speak our Passions first. —Is my Coach ready?

Page. It waits your Honour.

L. Lam. I give you leave to visit me—ask for the General’s Lady, if my Title be not by that time alter’d.

Lov. Pistols and Daggers to my Heart—’tis so.

L. Lam. Adieu, Sir.

[Ex. all but _Lov._ who stands musing.

Enter _Freeman_.

Free. How now, what’s the matter with thee?

Lov. Prithee wake me, _Freeman_.

Free. Wake thee!

Lov. I dream; by Heaven I dream; Nay, yet the lovely Phantom’s in my View. Oh! wake me, or I sleep to perfect Madness.

Free. What ail’st thou? what did’st dream of?

Lov. A strange fantastick Charmer, A thing just like a Woman Friend; It walkt and lookt with wondrous Majesty, Had Eyes that kill’d, and Graces deck’d her Face; 353 But when she talk’d, mad as the Winds she grew, Chimera in the form of Angel, Woman!

Free. Who the Devil meanest thou?

Lov. By Heav’n I know not, but, as she vanish’d hence, she bad me come to the General’s.

Free. Why, this is she I told thee ey’d thee so at the Conventicle; ’tis _Lambert_, the renown’d, the famous Lady _Lambert_—Mad call’st thou her? ’tis her ill acted Greatness, thou mistak’st; thou art not us’d to the Pageantry of these Women yet: they all run thus mad; ’tis Greatness in ’em, _Loveless._

Lov. And is thine thus, thy Lady _Desbro?_

Free. She’s of another Cut, she married, as most do, for Interest—but what—thou’t to her?

Lov. If Lightning stop my way:— Perhaps a sober View may make me hate her. [Exeunt both.

## Scene II. A Chamber in _Lambert’s_ House.

Enter _Lambert_ and _Whitlock_.

Whit. My Lord, now is your time, you may be King; Fortune is yours, you’ve time it self by th’ Fore-lock.

Lam. If I thought so, I’d hold him fast, by Heaven.

Whit. If you let slip this Opportunity, my Lord, you are undone—_Aut Cæsar, aut Nullus._

Lam. But _Fleetwood_—

Whit. Hang him, soft Head.

Lam. True, he’s of an easy Nature; yet if thou didst but know how little Wit governs this mighty Universe, thou wou’dst not wonder Men should set up him.

Whit. That will not recommend him at this _Juncto_, tho he’s an excellent Tool for your Lordship to make use of; and therefore use him, Sir, as _Cataline_ did _Lentulus_; drill the dull Fool with Hopes of Empire on, and that all tends to his Advancement only: The Blockhead will believe the Crown his own: What other Hopes could make him 354 ruin Richard, a Gentleman of Qualities a thousand times beyond him?

Lam. They were both too soft; an ill Commendation for a General, who should be rough as Storms of War it self.

Whit. His time was short, and yours is coming on; Old Oliver had his.

Lam. I hate the Memory of that Tyrant Oliver.

Whit. So do I, now he’s dead, and serves my Ends no more. I lov’d the Father of the great Heroick, whilst he had Power to do me good: he failing, Reason directed me to the Party then prevailing, the Fag-end of the Parliament: ’tis true, I took the Oath of Allegiance, as Oliver, your Lordship, Tony, and the rest did, without which we could not have sat in that Parliament; but that Oath was not for our Advantage, and so better broke than kept.

Lam. I am of your Opinion, my Lord.

Whit. Let Honesty and Religion preach against it. But how cou’d I have serv’d the Commons by deserting the King? how have I show’d my self loyal to your Interest, by fooling Fleet-wood, in the deserting of Dick; by dissolving the honest Parliament, and bringing in the odious Rump? how cou’d I have flatter’d Ireton, by telling him Providence brought thingsabout, when ’twas mere Knavery all; and that the Hand of the Lord was in’t, when I knew the Devil was in’t? or indeed, how cou’d I now advise you to be King, if I had started at Oaths, or preferr’d Honesty or Divinity before Interest and the Good Old Came?

Lam. Nay,’tis most certain, he that will live in this World, must be endu’d with the three rare Qualities of Dissimulation, Equivocation, and mental Reservation.

Whit. In which Excellency, Heav’n be prais’d, we out-do the Jesuits.

Enter Lady _Lambert_.

L. Lam. I’m glad to see you so well employ’d, my Lord, as in Discourse with my Lord Whitlock, he’s of our Party, and has Wit.

355 Whit. Your Honour graces me too much.

Lam. My Lord, my Lady is an absolute States-woman.

L. Lam. Yes, I think things had not arriv’d to this exalted height, nor had you been in prospect of a Crown, had not my Politicks exceeded your meaner Ambition.

Lam. I confess, I owe all my good Fortune to thee.

Enter _Page_.

Page. My Lord, my Lord _Wariston_, Lord _Hewson_, Colonel _Cobbet_, and Colonel _Duckenfield_ desire the Honour of waiting on you.

L. Lam. This has a Face of Greatness—let ’em wait a while i’th’ Antichamber.

Lam. My Love, I would have ’em come in.

L. Lam. You wou’d have ’em! you wou’d have a Fool’s Head of your own; pray let me be Judge of what their Duty is, and what your Glory: I say I’ll have ’em wait.

Page. My Lord _Fleetwood_ too is just alighted, shall lie wait too, Madam?

L. Lam. He may approach: and d’ye hear—put on your fawning Looks, flatter him, and profess much Friendship to him, you may betray him with the more facility.

Whit. Madam, you counsel well. [Ex. _Page_.

_Page_ re-enters with Lord _Fleetwood_.

Lam. My good Lord, your most submissive Servant.

Whit. My gracious Lord, I am your Creature—your Slave—

Fleet. I profess ingeniously, I am much engag’d to you, my good Lords; I hope things are now in the Lard’s handling, and will go on well for his Glory and my Interest, and that all my good People of _England_ will do things that become good Christians.

Whit. Doubt us not, my good Lord; the Government cannot be put into abler Hands than those of your Lordship; it has hitherto been in the hard Clutches of _Jews, Infidels_, and _Pagans_.

356 Fleet. Yea, verily, Abomination has been in the Hands of Iniquity.

Lam. But, my Lord, those Hands, by my good Conduct, are now cut off, and our Ambition is, your Lordship wou’d take the Government upon you.

Fleet. I profess, my Lord, by yea and nay, I am asham’d of this Goodness, in making me the Instrument of saving Grace to this Nation; ’tis the great Work of the Lard.

L. Lam. The Lard! Sir, I’ll assure you the Lard has the least Hand in your good Fortune; I think you ought to ascribe it to the Cunning and Conduct of my Lord here, who so timely abandon’d the Interest of _Richard_.

Fleet. Ingeniously I must own, your good Lord can do much, and has done much; but ’tis our Method to ascribe all to the Powers above.

L. Lam. Then I must tell you, your Method’s an ungrateful Method.

Lam. Peace, my Love.

Whit. Madam, this is the Cant we must delude the Rabble with.

L. Lam. Then let him use it there, my Lord, not amongst us, who so well understand one another.

Lam. Good Dear, be pacified—and tell me, shall the Gentlemen without have Admittance?

L. Lam. They may. [_Page_ goes out.

Enter _Hewson_, _Desbro_, _Duckenfield_, _Wariston_, and _Cobbet_.

War. Guds Benizon light on yu, my gued Loords, for this Day’s Work; Madam, I kiss your white Honds.

Duc. My Lord, I have not been behind-hand in this Day’s turn of State.

Lam. ’Tis confess’d, Sir; what would you infer from that?

Duc. Why, I wou’d know how things go; who shall be General, who Protector?

Hews. My Friend has well translated his meaning.

357 L. Lam. Fy, how that filthy Cobler Lord betrays his Function.

Duc. We’re in a Chaos, a Confusion, as we are.

Hews. Indeed the Commonwealth at present is out at Heels, and wants underlaying.

Cob. And the People expect something suddenly from us.

Whit. My Lords and Gentlemen, we must consider a while.

War. Bread a gued there’s mickle Wisdom i’that, Sirs.

Duc. It ought to be consulted betimes, my Lord, ’tis a matter of Moment, and ought to be consulted by the whole Committee.

Lam. We design no other, my Lord, for which Reason at three a Clock we’ll meet at _Wallingford_ House.

Duc. Nay, my Lord, do but settle the Affair, let’s but know who’s our Head, and ’tis no matter.

Hews. Ay, my Lord, no matter who; I hope ’twill be _Fleetwood_, for I have the length of his Foot already.

Whit. You are the leading Men, Gentlemen, your Voices will soon settle the Nation.

Duc. Well, my Lord, we’ll not fail at three a Clock.

Des. This falls out well for me; for I’ve Business in _Smithfield_, where my Horses stand; and verily, now I think on’t, the Rogue the Ostler has not given ’em Oates to day: Well, my Lords, farewel; if I come not time enough to _Wallingford_ House, keep me a Place in the Committee, and let my Voice stand for one, no matter who.

War. A gued Mon I’s warrant, and takes muckle Pains for the Gued o’th’ Nation, and the Liberty o’th Mobily—The Diel confound ’em aud.

Lam. Come, my Lord _Wariston_, you are a wise Man, what Government are you for.

War. Ene tol what ya please, my gued Loord. [Takes him aside.

Lam. What think you of a single Person here in my Lord _Fleetwood?_

358 War. Marry, Sir, and he’s a brave Mon, but gen I may cooncel, tak’t for yar sel my gued Loord, ant be gued for him, ’tis ene gued for ya te.

Lam. But above half the Nation are for him.

War. Bread a gued, and I’s for him then.

Fleet. The Will of the Lard be done; and since ’tis his Will, I cannot withstand my Fate—ingeniously.

Whit. My Lord _Wariston_, a Word—What if _Lambert_ were the Man? [Takes him aside.

War. Right Sir, Wons and ya have spoken aud; he’s a brave Mon, a Mon indeed gen I’s have any Judgment.

Whit. So I find this Property’s for any use. [Aside.

Lam. My Lord, I perceive Heaven and Earth conspire to make you our Prince.

Fleet. Ingeniously, my Lords, the Weight of three Kingdoms is a heavy Burden for so weak Parts as mine: therefore I will, before I appear at Council, go seek the Lard in this great Affair; and if I receive a Revelation for it, I shall with all Humility espouse the Yoke, for the Good of his People and mine; and so Gad with us, the Commonwealth of _England_. [Exeunt _Fleet._ _Desbro_, _Wariston_, _Due._ _Cob._ _Hews_, and _Whit._

L. Lam. Poor deluded Wretch, ’tis not yet come to that.

Lam. No, my dear, the Voice will go clearly for me; what with Bribes to some, Hypocrisy and Pretence of Religion to others, and promis’d Preferments to the rest, I have engag’d ’em all.

L. Lam. And will you be a King?

Lam. You think that’s so fine a thing—but let me tell you, my Love, a King’s a Slave to a Protector, a King’s ty’d up to a thousand Rules of musty Law, which we can break at pleasure; we can rule without Parliaments, at least chuse whom we please, make ’em agree to our Proposals, or set a Guard upon ’em, and starve ’em till they do.

L. Lam. But their Votes are the strangest things—that they must pass for Laws; you were never voted King.

359 Lam. No, nor care to be: The sharpest Sword’s my Vote, my Law, my Title. They voted _Dick_ should reign, where is he now? They voted the great Heroicks from the Succession; but had they Arms or Men, as I have, you shou’d soon see what wou’d become of their Votes—No, my Love! ’tis this—must make me King. [His Sword.

Let _Fleetwood_ and the Rump go seek the Lard, My Empire and my Trust is in my Sword.

## ACT II.

## Scene I. A Chamber of State in _Lambert’s_ House.

Enter L. _Lambert_, _Gilliflower_, and Women-servants.

L. Lam. _Gilliflower_, has none been here to ask for any of my People, in order to his approach to me?

Gill. None, Madam.

L. Lam. Madam! How dull thou art? wo’t never learn to give me a better Title than such an one as foolish Custom bestows on every common Wench?

Gill. Pardon my Ignorance, Madam.

L. Lam. Again Madam?

Gill. Really, Madam, I shou’d be glad to know by what other Title you wou’d be distinguish’d?

L. Lam. Abominable dull! Do’st thou not know on what score my Dear is gone to _Wallingford_ House?

Gill. I cannot divine, Madam.

L. Lam. Heaven help thy Ignorance! he’s gone to be made Protector, Fool, or at least a King, thou Creature; and from this Day I date my self her Highness.

Gill. That will be very fine indeed, an’t please your Highness.

L. Lam. I think ’twill sute better with my Person and Beauty than with the other Woman—what d’ye call her? Mrs. _Cromwell_—my Shape—and Gate—my Humour, 360 and my Youth have something more of Grandeur, have they not?

Gill. Infinitely, an’t please your Highness.

Enter _Page_.

Page. Madam, a Man without has the boldness to ask for your Honour.

L. Lam. Honour, Fool!

Gill. Her Highness, Blockhead.

Page. Saucily prest in, and struck the Porter for denying him entrance to your—Highness.

L. Lam. What kind of Fellow was’t?

Page. A rude, rough, hectoring Swash, an’t please your Highness; nay, and two or three times, Gad forgive me, he swore too.

L. Lam. It must be he. [Aside.

Page. His Habit was something bad and Cavalierish—I believe ’twas some poor petitioning, begging Tory, who having been sequester’d, wou’d press your Highness for some Favour.

L. Lam. Yes, it must be he—ah, foolish Creature! and can he hope Relief, and be a villanous Cavalier? out upon ’em, poor Wretches—you may admit him tho’, for I long to hear how one of those things talk.

Gill. Oh, most strangely, Madam—an please your Highness, I shou’d say.

Enter _Loveless_.

L. Lam. ’Tis he, I’ll swear, _Gilliflower_, these Heroicks are punctual men—how now, your Bus’ness with us, Fellow?

Lov. My Bus’ness, Madam?—

L. Lam. Hast thou ever a Petition to us?

Lov. A Petition, Madam?—Sure this put—on Greatness is to amuse her Servants, or has she forgot that she invited me? or indeed forgot me?— [Aside.

L. Lam. What art thou?

361 Page. Shall we search his Breeches, an’t please your Highness, for Pistol, or other Instruments?

L. Lam. No, Boy, we fear him not, they say the Powers above protect the Persons of Princes. [Walks away.

Lov. Sure she’s mad, yet she walks loose about, And she has Charms even in her raving Fit.

L. Lam. Answer me. What art thou?— How shall I get my Servants hence with Honour? [Aside.

Lov. A Gentleman— That could have boasted Birth and Fortune too, Till these accursed Times, which Heaven confound, Razing out all Nobility, all Virtue, Has render’d me the rubbish of the World; Whilst new rais’d Rascals, Canters, Robbers, Rebels, Do lord it o’er the Free-born, Brave and Noble.

L. Lam. You’re very confident, know you to whom you speak? but I suppose you have lost your Estate, or some such trivial thing, which makes you angry.

Lov. Yes, a trivial Estate of some five and twenty hundred Pound a Year: but I hope to see that Rogue of a Lord reduc’d to his Cobler’s-Stall again, or more deserv’dly hang’d, that has it.

L. Lam. I thought ’twas some such Grievance—but you must keep a good Tongue in your Head, lest you be hang’d for _Scandalum Magnatum_—there’s Law for ye, Sir.

Lov. No matter, then I shall be free from a damn’d Commonwealth, as you are pleas’d to call it, when indeed ’tis but a mungrel, mangy, Mock-Monarchy.

L. Lam. Is it your business, Sir, to rail?

Lov. You rais’d the Devil, Madam.

Page. Madam, shall I call your Highness’s Guards, and secure the Traitor?

L. Lam. No, that you may see how little I regard or fear him; leave us all— [Ex. all but _Gill._ We’ll trust our Person in his Hands alone— —Now, Sir—Your Bus’ness? [Smilingly approaches him.

362 Lav. Madam, I waited here by your Commands.

L. Lam. How shall I tell him that I love him, Gilliflower?

Gill. Easily, Madam, tell him so in plain _English_. Madam,’tis great; Women of your exalted height ever speak first; you have no Equals dare pretend to speak of Love to you.

L. Lam. Thou art i’th’ right—Do’st know my Quality, and thy own Poverty? And hast thou nothing to ask that I may grant?

Lav. Sure she loves me! and I, frail Flesh and Blood, Cannot resist her Charms; but she’s of the damn’d Party. [Aside.

L. Lam. Are all your Party, Sir, so proud?

Lov. But what have I to do with Religion! Is Beauty the worse, or a kind Wench to be refus’d for Conventickling? She lives high on the Spoils of a glorious Kingdom, and why may not I live upon the Sins of the Spoiler? [Aside.

L. Lam. Sir—you are poor!

Lov. So is my Prince; a Plague on the occasion.

L. Lam. I think you are—no Fool too.

Lov. I wou’d I were, then I had been a Knave, had thriv’d, and possibly by this time had been tugging for rifled Crowns and Kingdoms.

L. Lam. This Satir ill befits my present Bus’ness with you—you—want some Necessaries—as Clothes, and Linen too; and ’tis great pity so proper a Man shou’d want Necessaries. _Gilliflower_—take my Cabinet Key, and fetch the Purse of Broad-pieces that lies in the lower Drawer; ’tis a small Present, Sir, but ’tis an Earnest of my farther Service. [_Gill._ goes out and returns with a Purse.

Lov. I’m angry, that I find one Grain of Generosity in this whole Race of Hypocrites. [Aside.

L. Lam. Here, Sir,’tis only for your present use; for Clothes—three hundred Pieces; let me see you sweet—

Lov. Stark mad, by this good Day.

L. Lam. Ah, _Gilliflower!_ How prettily those Cavalier 363 things charm; I wonder how the Powers above came to give them all the Wit, Softness, and Gallantry—whilst all the great ones of our Age have the most slovenly, ungrateful, dull Behaviour; no Air, no Wit, no Love, nor any thing to please a Lady with.

Gill. Truly, Madam, there’s a great Difference in the Men; yet Heaven at first did its part, but the Devil has since so over-done his, that what with the Vizor of Sanctity, which is the gadly Sneer, the drawing of the Face to a prodigious length, the formal Language, with a certain Twang through the Nose, and the pious Gogle, they are fitter to scare Children than beget love in Ladies.

Lav. You hit the Character of your new Saint.

L. Lam. And then their Dress, _Gilliflower_.

Gil. Oh! ’Tis an Abomination to look like a Gentleman; long Hair is wicked and cavalierish, a Periwig is flat Popery, the Disguise of the Whore of _Babylon_; handsom Clothes, or lac’d Linen, the very Tempter himself, that debauches all their Wives and Daughters; therefore the diminutive Band, with the Hair of the Reformation Cut, beneath which a pair of large sanctify’d Souses appear, to declare to the World they had hitherto escap’d the Pillory, tho deserv’d it as well as _Pryn_.

L. Lam. Have a care what you say, _Gilliflower_.

Gil. Why, Madam, we have no Informers here.

Enter _Page_.

Page. Madam, here’s Old _Noll’s_ Wife desires Admittance to your Hon—your Highness.

L. Lam. Bid the poor Creature wait without, I’ll do her what Good I can for her Husband’s sake, who first infus’d Politicks into me, by which I may boast I have climb’d to Empire.

Lov. So, her Madness runs in that Vein I see. [Aside.

Gil. Alack, Madam, I think she’s coming.

Crom. [without] Does she keep State in the Devil’s Name, and must I wait?

364 L. Lam. Heavens! I shall be scandalized by the Godly. Dear _Gilliflower_, conceal my Cavalier; I would not have a Cavalier seen with me for all the World—Step into my Cabinet. [Ex. _Gil._ and _Lov._

Enter L. _Cromwel_, held back by a Man—to them _Gilliflower_.

Crom. Unhand me, Villain—’twas not long since a Rudeness, Sir, like this had forfeited thy Head.

L. Lam. What wou’d the Woman?

Crom. The Knave, the perjur’d Villain thy Husband, by th’ Throat: thou proud, imperious Baggage, to make me wait; whose Train thou hast been proud to bear—how durst thou, after an Affront like this, trust thy false Face within my Fingers reach? that Face, that first bewitch’d the best of Husbands from me, and tempted him to sin.

Gil. I beseech your Highness retire, the Woman’s mad.

Crom. Highness in the Devil’s Name, sure ’tis not come to that; no, I may live to see thy Cuckold hang’d first, his Politicks are yet too shallow, Mistress. Heavens! Did my Husband make him Lord for this? raise him to Honour, Trusts, Commands, and Counsels,

To ruin all our Royal Family, Betray young _Richard_, who had reign’d in Peace But for his Perjuries and Knaveries; And now he sooths my Son-in-law, soft _Fleetwood_, With empty hopes of Pow’r, and all the while To make himself a King: No, Minion, no; I yet may live to see Thy Husband’s Head o’th’ top of _Westminster_, Before I see it circled in a Crown.

L. Lam. I pity the poor Creature.

Crom. Ungrateful Traytor as he is, Not to look back upon his Benefactors; But he, in lieu of making just Returns, Reviles our Family, profanes our Name, 365 And will in time render it far more odious Than ever _Needham_ made the great Heroicks.

L. Lam. Alas, it weeps, poor Woman!

Crom. Thou ly’st, false Strumpet, I scorn to shed a Tear, For ought that thou canst do or say to me; I’ve too much of my Husband’s Spirit in me. Oh, my dear _Richard_, hadst thou had a Grain on’t, Thou and thy Mother ne’er had fall’n to this.

Gil. His Father sure was seeking of the Lard when he was got.

Enter L. _Fleetwood_, her Train born up.

Crom. Where is this perjur’d Slave, thy Wittal Lord? Dares he not shew his Face, his guilty Face, Before the Person he has thus betray’d?

L. Fleet. Madam, I hope you mistake my honour’d Lord _Lambert_, I believe he designs the Throne for my dear Lord.

Crom. Fond Girl, because he has the Art of fawning, Dissembling to the height, can sooth and smile, Profess, and sometimes weep:— No, he’ll betray him, as he did thy Brother; _Richard_ the Fourth was thus deluded by him. No, let him swear and promise what he will, They are but steps to his own ambitious End; And only makes the Fool, thy credulous Husband, A silly deluded Property.

Enter _Fleetwood_.

Fleet. My honour’d Mother, I am glad to find you here; I hope we shall reconcile things between ye. Verily we should live in Brotherly Love together; come, ingeniously, you shall be Friends, my Lady Mother.

Crom. Curse on th’ occasion of thy being a Kin to me.

Fleet. Why, an please ye, forsooth, Madam?

Crom. My Daughter had a Husband, Worthy the Title of my Son-in-Law; _Ireton_, my best of Sons: he’d Wit and Courage, 366 And with his Counsels, rais’d our House to Honours, Which thy impolitick Easiness pulls down: And whilst you should be gaining Crowns and Kingdoms, Art poorly couzening of the World with fruitless Prayers.

Fleet. Nay, I’ll warrant you, Madam, when there is any gadly Mischief to be done, I am as forward as the best; but ’tis good to take the Lard along with us in every thing. I profess ingeniously, as I am an honest Man, verily—ne’er stir—I shall act as becomes a good Christian.

Crom. A good Coxcomb. Do’st thou not see her reverend Highness there, That Minion now assumes that glorious Title I once, and my Son _Richard’s_ Wife enjoy’d, Whilst I am call’d the Night-mare of the Commonwealth? But wou’d I were, I’d so hag-ride the perjur’d Slaves, Who took so many Oaths of true Allegiance To my great Husband first, then to _Richard_— Who, whilst they reign’d, were most illustrious, Most high and mighty Princes; whilst fawning Poets Write Panegyricks on ’em; and yet no sooner was The wondrous Hero dead, but all his glorious Titles fell to Monster of Mankind, Murderer Of Piety, Traytor to Heaven and Goodness.

Fleet. Who calls him so? Pray take their Names down: I profess ingeniously, forsooth, Madam, verily I’ll order ’em, as I am here I will.

Crom. Thou, alas! they scorn so poor a thing as thou.

Fleet. Do they ingeniously? I’ll be even with ’em, forsooth, Mother, as I am here I will, and there’s an end on’t.

Crom. I wou’d there were an end of our Disgrace and Shame, Which is but just begun, I fear. What will become of that fair Monument Thy careful Father did erect for thee, [To L. _Fleetwood_. Yet whilst he liv’d, next to thy Husband _Ireton_, 367 Lest none shou’d do it for thee after he were dead; The Malice of proud _Lambert_ will destroy all.

Fleet. I profess, Madam, you mistake my good Lord _Lambert_, he’s an honest Man, and fears the Lard; he tells me I am to be the Man; verily he does, after all’s done.

Cram. Yes, after all’s done, thou art the Man to be pointed at.

Fleet. Nay, ingeniously, I scorn the Words, so I do: I know the great Work of Salvation to the Nation is to be wrought by me, verily.

Crom. Do, cant on, till Heaven drop Kingdoms in thy Mouth: Dull, silly Sot, thou Ruin of our Interest; thou fond, incorrigible, easy Fool.

Enter _Page_.

Page. My Lord, the Committee of Safety waits your coming.

Fleet. Why, law you now, forsooth—I profess verily, you are ingeniously the hardest of Belief—tell the Honourable Lords I’m coming: Go, Lady-mother, go home with my Wife; and verily you’ll see things go to your wish—I must to Coach.

L. Fleet. Madam, your humble Servant. [To La. _Lam._

Fleet. Honour’d Lady, I kiss your Hands.

[Exeunt _Crom._ _Fleet_, and L. _Fleet._

Enter _Loveless_.

Lov. Was this the thing that is to be Protector? This little sniveling Fellow rule three Kingdoms? But leave we Politicks, and fall to Love, Who deals more Joys in one kind happy moment Than Ages of dull Empire can produce.

L. Lam. Oh Gods! shall I who never yielded yet, But to him to whom three Kingdoms fell a Sacrifice, Surrender at first Parley?

Lov. Perhaps that Lover made ye gayer Presents, But cou’d not render you a Heart all Love, 368 Or Mind embyass’d in Affairs of Blood. —I bring no Guilt to fright you from my Embraces, But all our Hours shall be serene and soft.

L. Lam. Ah, _Gilliflower_, thy Aid, or I am lost; Shall it be said of me in after Ages, When my Fame amongst Queens shall be recorded, That I, ah Heavens! regardless of my Country’s Cause, Espous’d the wicked Party of its Enemies, The Heathenish Heroicks? ah, defend me!

Lov. Nay—by all that’s—

L. Lam. Ah, hold! Do not profane my Ears with Oaths or Execrations, I cannot bear the Sound.

Lov. Nay, nay—by Heav’n I’ll not depart your Lodgings, till that soft Love that plays so in your Eyes give me a better Proof—by—

L. Lam. Oh hold, I die, if you proceed in this Abomination.

Lov. Why do you force me to’t? d’ye think to put me off with such a Face—such Lips—such Smiles—such Eyes, and every Charm—You’ve made me mad, and I shall swear my Soul away, if disappointed now.

Gil. Ah, save the Gentleman’s Soul, I beseech ye, Madam.

L. Lam. I’m much inclin’d to Acts of Piety—And you have such a Power, that howe’er I incommode my Honour— [Leaning on him, smiling. He goes to lead her out, Enter La. _Desbro_. —_Desbro_ here! How unseasonably she comes?

L. Des. Cry mercy, Madam, I’ll withdraw a while.

L. Lam. Ah, _Desbro!_ thou art come in the most lucky Minute—I was just on the point of falling—As thou say’st, these Heroicks have the strangest Power—

L. Des. I never knew a Woman cou’d resist ’em.

L. Lam. No marvel then, our Husbands use ’em so, betray ’em, banish ’em, sequester, murder ’em, and every way disarm ’em—

L. Des. But their Eyes, Madam.

369 L. Lam. Ay, their Eyes, _Desbro_; I wonder our Lords shou’d take away their Swords, and let ’em wear their Eyes.

L. Des. I’ll move it to the Committee of Safety, Madam, those Weapons should be taken from ’em too.

L. Lam. Still they’ll have some to be reveng’d on us.

L. Des. Ay, so they will will; My Lord says, a Cavalier is a kind of _Hydra_, knock him o’th’ Head as often as you will, he has still one to peep up withal.

Enter _Page_.

Page. Madam, here’s Mr. _Freeman_ to speak with your Honour.

Lov. That’s a Friend of mine, Madam, and ’twou’d be unnecessary he saw your Highness and I together: let us withdraw—

L. Lam. Withdraw! why, what will _Desbro_ say?

L. Des. O Madam, I know your Virtue and your Piety too well to suspect your Honour wrongfully: ’tis impossible a Lady that goes to a Conventicle twice a Day, besides long Prayers and loud Psalm—singing, shou’d do any thing with an Heroick against her Honour. Your known Sanctity preserves you from Scandal—But here’s _Freeman_— [Puts ’em in.

Enter _Freeman_.

Free. So, Madam—you are very kind—

L. Des. My charming _Freeman_, this tedious Day of Absence has been an Age in love. How hast thou liv’d without me?

Free. Like one condemn’d, sad and disconsolate, And all the while you made your Husband happy.

L. Des. Name not the Beastly Hypocrite, thou know’st I made no other use of him, But a dull Property to advance our Love.

Free. And ’tis but Justice, _Maria_, he sequester’d me of my whole Estate, because, he said, I took up Arms in _Ireland_, on Noble _Ormond’s_ Side; nay, hir’d Rogues, 370 perjur’d Villains—Witnesses with a Pox, to swear it too; when at that time I was but Eight Years Old; but I escap’d as well as all the Gentry and Nobility of _England_. To add to this, he takes my Mistress too.

L. Des. You mistake, my lovely _Freeman_; I married only thy Estate, the best Composition I cou’d make for thee, and I will pay it back with Interest too.

Free. You wou’d suspect my Love then, and swear that all the Adoration I pay you, were, as we do to Heav’n, for Interest only.

L. Des. How you mistake my Love, but do so still, so you will let me give these—Proofs of it. [Gives him Gold.

Free. Thus, like _Atlante_, you drop Gold in my Pursuit To Love, I may not over-take you: What’s this to giving me one happy minute? Take back your Gold, and give me current Love, The Treasure of your Heart, not of your Purse— When shall we meet, _Maria?_

L. Des. You know my leisure Hours are when my Honourable Lord is busied in Affairs of State, or at his Prayers; from which long-winded Exercise I have of late withdrawn my self: three Hours by the Clock he prays extemporary, which is, for National and Household Blessings: For the first—’tis to confound the Interest of the King, that the Lard wou’d deliver him, his Friends, Adherers and Allies, wheresoever scatter’d about the Face of the whole Earth, into the Clutches of the Righteous: Press ’em, good Lard, even as the Vintager doth the Grape in the Wine-Press, till the Waters and gliding Channels are made red with the Blood of the Wicked. [In a Tone.

Free. And grant the Faithful to be mighty, and to be strong in Persecution; and more especially, ah! I beseech thee confound that malignant Tory _Freeman_—that he may never rise up in judgment against thy Servant, who has taken from him his Estate, his Sustenance and Bread; give him Grace of thy infinite Mercy, to hang himself, if 371 thy People can find no zealous Witnesses to swear him to the Gallows legally. Ah, we have done very much for thee, Lard, thou shoud’st consider us thy Flock, and we shou’d be as good to thee in another thing. [In a Tone.

L. Des. Thou hit’st the zealous Twang right; sure thou hast been acquainted with some of ’em.

Free. Damn ’em, no; what honest Man wou’d keep ’em Company, where harmless Wit and Mirth’s a Sin, laughing scandalous, and a merry Glass Abomination?

L. Des. Yes, if you drink Healths, my wicked Brother: otherwise, to be silently drunk, to be as abusive and satirical as you please, upon the Heroicks, is allowable—for laughing, ’tis not indeed so well; but the precise Sneer and Grin is lawful; no swearing indeed, but lying and dissimulation in abundance. I’ll assure you, they drink as deep, and entertain themselves as well with this silent way of leud Debauchery, as you with all your Wit and Mirth, your Healths of the Royal Family.

Free. Nay, I confess, ’tis a great Pleasure to cheat the World.

L. Des. ’Tis Power, as divine _Hobbes_ calls it.

Free. But what’s all this to Love? Where shall we meet anon?

L. Des. I’ll tell you, what will please you as well—Your Friend is within with her Highness that shall be, if the Devil and her Husband’s Politicks agree about the matter.

Free. Ha, has my cautious Railer manag’d matters so slyly?

L. Des. No, no, the matter was manag’d to his Hand; you see how Heav’n brings things about, for the Good of your Party; this Business will be worth to him at least a thousand Pound a year, or two, well manag’d—But see, my Lady’s Woman.

Gil. Oh, Madam, my Lord— [Running cross the Stage into her Lady’s Chamber.

Free. Death, how shall I bring my Friend off? he’ll certainly be ruin’d.

372 Enter _Gill._ _Lov._ and Lady _Lam._

Gill. Madam, he’s coming up.

Lov. Madam, for my self I care not, but am much concern’d for you.

[L. _Lam._ takes two Papers out of her Pocket, and gives ’em to _Lov._ and _Free_.

L. Lam. Here take these two Petitions, each of you one—Poor Fellows—you may be gone, your Petitions will not be granted.

Enter _Lambert_.

Lam. How now, my Dear, what Petitions?—Friends, what’s your Bus’ness?

L. Lam. ’Tis enough we know their Business, Love, we are sufficient to dispatch such Suiters, I hope.

Lam. Pardon me, my Dear, I thought no harm; but I saw you frown, and that made me concern’d.

L. Lam. Frown! ’Twou’d make any Body frown, to hear the Impudence of Gentlemen, these Cavaliers—wou’d you think it, my Dear, if this Fellow has not the Impudence to petition for the Thirds of his Estate again, so justly taken from him for bearing Arms for the Man?—

L. Des. Nay, I’m inform’d, that they, but two Nights ago, in a Tavern, drunk a Health to the Man too.

Lam. How durst you, Sirrah, approach my Lady with any such saucy Address? you have receiv’d our Answer.

Lov. Death, I have scarce Patience. [Aside.

Free. We knew, my Lord, the Influence your Ladies have over you, and Women are more tender and compassionate naturally than Men; and, Sir, ’tis hard for Gentlemen to starve.

L. Lam. Have you not able Limbs? can ye not work?

Lov. Persons of our Education work!

Lam. Starve or beg then.

L. Lam. Education! why, I’ll warrant there was that young Creature they call the Duke of _Glocester_, was as 373 well educated as any Lad in the Parish; and yet you see he should have been bound Prentice to a Handy-Crafts Trade, but that our Lords could not spare Money to bind him out, and so they sent him to beg beyond Sea.

Lov. Death, I shall do Mischief: not all the Joy she gave me but now, can atone for this Blasphemy against the Royal Youth. [Aside.

Free. Patience—Well, my Lord, we find you are obdurate, and we’ll withdraw.

Lam. Do so: And if you dare presume to trouble us any more, I’ll have you whip’d, d’ye hear.

L. Des. Madam, I’ll take my leave of your Ladyship.

[Ex. _Lov._ _Free._ and L. _Des._

L. Lam. My Lord, ’twas I that ought to threaten ’em—but you’re so forward still—what makes you from the Committee?

Lam. I left some Papers behind.

L. Lam. And they’ll make use of your Absence to set up _Fleetwood_ King.

Lam. I’ll warrant ye, my Dear.

L. Lam. You’ll warrant! you are a Fool, and a Coxcomb; I see I must go my self, there will be no Bus’ness done till I thunder ’em together: They want Old _Oliver_ amongst ’em, his Arbitrary Nod cou’d make ye all tremble; when he wanted Power or Money, he need but cock in Parliament, and lay his Hand upon his Sword, and cry, I must have Money, and had it, or kick’d ye all out of Doors: And you are all mealy mouth’d, you cannot cock for a Kingdom.

Lam. I’ll warrant ye, Dear, I can do as good a thing for a Kingdom.

L. Lam. You can do nothing as you shou’d do’t: You want Old _Oliver’s_ Brains, Old _Oliver’s_ Courage, and Old _Oliver’s_ Counsel: Ah, what a politick Fellow was little Sir _Anthony!_ What a Head-piece was there! What a plaguy Fellow Old _Thurlo_, and the rest! But get ye back, 374 and return me Protector at least, or never hope for Peace again.

Lam. My Soul, trouble not thy self, go in—

With mine no Power can equal be, And I will be a King to humour thee. [Exeunt.

## ACT III.

## Scene I. A Council-Chamber, great Table, Chairs, and Papers.

Enter two Clerks, who lay Papers in Order, and Doorkeeper.

Door. Come, haste, haste, the Lords are coming—keep back there, room for the Lords, room for the honourable Lords: Heav’n bless your Worships Honours.

Enter _Lambert_, _Fleetwood_, _Whitlock_, _Wariston_, discoursing earnestly; to them _Duckenfield_, _Cobbet_, _Hewson_, _Desbro_, and others; _Duck._ takes _Wariston_ by the Hand, and talks to him.

War. Bread a gued, Gentlemen, I’s serv’d the Commonwealth long and faithfully; I’s turn’d and turn’d to aud Interest and aud Religions that turn’d up Trump, and wons a me, but I’s get naught but Bagery by my Sol; I’s noo put in for a Pansion as well as rest o ya Loones.

Cob. What we can serve you in, my Lord, you may command.

Duc. And I too, my Lord, when the Government is new moulded.

War. Wons, Sirs, and I’s sa moold it, ’twas ne’er sa moolded sen the Dam boon’d the Head on’t.

Duc. I know there are some ambitious Persons that are for a single Person; but we’ll have hot Work e’er we yield to that.

War. The faud Diel take ’em then for _Archibald_; ’tis warse than Monarchy.

Duc. A thousand times: have we with such Industry 375 been pulling down Kings of the Royal Family, to set up Tyrants of our own, of mean and obscure Birth? No, if we’re for a single Person, I’m for a lawful one.

War. Wons and ya have spoken aud, my Lord, so am I.

Due. But _Lambert_ has a busy, haughty Spirit, and thinks to carry it; but we’ll have no single Person.

War. Nor I, ods Bread; the faud Diel brest the Wem of _Lambert_, or any single Person in _England_. I’s for yare Interest, my gued Lords. [Bowing.

Lam. My Lord _Wariston_, will you please to assume the Chair?

Enter _Loveless_, _Freeman_, and others with Petitions.

War. Ah, my gued Loord, I’s yare most obedient humble Servant. [Bowing to _Lam._ all set.

All. Hum, hum.

Fleet. My Lords and Gentlemen, we are here met together in the Name of the Lard—

Duc. Yea, and I hope we shall hang together as one Man—A Pox upon your Preaching. [Aside.

Fleet. —And hope this Day’s great Work will be for his Praise and Glory.

Duc. ’Bating long Graces, my Lord, we are met together for the Bus’ness of the Nation, to settle it, and to establish a Government.

Fleet. Yea, verily: and I hope you will all unanimously agree, it shall be your unworthy Servant.

Lam. What else, my Lord.

Fleet. And as thou, Lard, hast put the Sword into my Hand—

Due. So put it into your Heart—my Lord, to do Justice.

Fleet. Amen.

Due. I’d rather see it there than in your Hand— [Aside.

Fleet. For we are, as it were, a Body without a Head; or, to speak more learnedly, an Animal inanimate.

Hew. My Lord, let us use, as little as we can, the 376 Language of the Beast, hard Words; none of your Eloquence, it savoureth of Monarchy.

Lam. My Lord, you must give Men of Quality leave to speak in a Language more gentile and courtly than the ordinary sort of Mankind.

Hew. My Lord, I am sorry to hear there are any of Quality among this honourable Dissembly. [Stands up.

Cob. Assembly, my Lord—

Hew. Well, you know my meaning; or if there be any such, I’m sorry they should own themselves of Quality.

Due. How! own themselves Gentlemen! Death, Sir, d’ye think we were all born Coblers?

Hew. Or if you were not, the more the pity, for little _England_, I say. [In a heat.

Fleet. Verily, my Lords, Brethren should not fall out, it is a Scandal to the good Cause, and maketh the wicked rejoice.

War. Wons, and theys garr the loosey Proverb on’t te, _when loons gang together by th’ luggs, gued men get their ene._

All. He, he, he.

Due. He calls you Knaves by Craft, my Lords.

War. Bread a gued, take’t among ye, Gentlemen, I’s ment weel.

Fleet. I profess, my Lord _Wariston_, you make my Hair stand an end to hear how you swear.

War. Wons, my Loord, I’s swear as little as your Lordship, only I’s swear out, and ye swallow aud.

Due. There’s a Bone for you to pick, my Lord.

All. He, he, he.

Lam. We give my Lord _Wariston_ leave to jest.

Des. But what’s this to the Government all this while? A dad I shall sit so late, I shall have no time to visit my Horses, therefore proceed to the Point.

Hew. Ay, to the Point, my Lords; the Gentleman that spoke last spoke well.

Cob. Well said, Brother, I see you will in time speak properly.

377 Duc. But to the Government, my Lords! [Beats the Table.

Lam. Put ’em off of this Discourse, my Lord. [Aside to _War._

Des. My Lord _Wariston_, move it, you are Speaker.

War. The Diel a me, Sirs, and noo ya talk of a Speaker, I’s tell ye a blithe Tale.

Fleet. Ingeniously, my Lord, you are to blame to swear so.

Lam. Your Story, my Lord.

War. By my Sol, mon, and there war a poor Woman the other Day, begg’d o’th’ Carle the Speaker, but he’d give her nought unless she’d let a Feart; wons at last a Feart she lat. Ay marry, quoth the Woman, noo my Rump has a Speaker te.

All. He, he, he.

Due. But to our Bus’ness—

Des. Bus’ness; ay, there’s the thing, I’ve a World on’t. I shou’d go and bespeak a Pair of Mittins and Shears for my Hedger and Shearer, a pair of Cards for my Thrasher, a Scythe for my Mower, and a Screen-Fan for my Lady-Wife, and many other things; my Head’s full of Bus’ness. I cannot stay—

Whit. Fy, my Lord, will you neglect the bus’ness of the Day? We meet to oblige the Nation, and gratify our Friends.

Des. Nay, I’ll do any thing, so I may rise time enough to see my Horses at Night.

Lav. Damn ’em, what stuff’s here for a Council-Table?

Free. Where are our _English_ Spirits, that can be govern’d by such Dogs as these?—

Lam. Clerk, read the Heads of what past at our last sitting.

War. In the first place, I must mind your Lordships tol consider those that have been gued Members in the Commonwealth.

Fleet. We shall not be backward to gratify any that have serv’d the Commonwealth.

378 Whit. There’s Money enough; we have taxt the Nation high.

Due. Yes, if we knew where to find it: however, read.

Clerk reads.] To _Walter Walton_, Draper, six thousand nine hundred twenty nine Pounds six Shillings and five Pence, for Blacks for his Highness’s Funeral.

Lam. For the Devil’s; put it down for _Oliver Cromwel’s_ Funeral: We’ll have no Record rise up in Judgment for such a Villain.

Lav. How live Asses kick the dead Lion! [Aside.

Due. Hark ye, my Lords, we sit here to reward Services done to the Commonwealth; let us consider whether this be a Service to the Commonwealth or not?

Lam. However, we will give him Paper for’t.

Hews. Ay, let him get his Money when he can.

Lam. Paper’s not so dear, and the Clerk’s Pains will be rewarded.

War. Right, my gued Lord,’sbred, that _Cromwel_ was th’ faudest limmer Loon that ever cam into lour Country, the faud Diel has tane him by th’ Luggs for robbing our Houses and Land.

Fleet. No swearing, my Lord.

War. Weel, weel, my Loord, I’s larne to profess and lee as weel as best on ya.

Hews. That may bring you profit, my Lord—but, Clerk, proceed.

Clerk reads.] To _Walter Frost_, Treasurer of the Contingencies, twenty thousand Pounds. To _Thurloe_, Secretary to his Highness—

Duc. To old _Noll_.

Clerk reads.] —Old Noll, ten thousand Pounds, for unknown Service done the Commonwealth—To Mr. _Hutchinson_, Treasurer of the Navy, two hundred thousand Pounds—

War. Two hundred thousand Pound; Owns, what a Sum’s there?—Marry it came from the Mouth of a Cannon sure.

379 Clerk reads.] A Present to the Right Honourable and truly Virtuous Lady, the Lady _Lambert_, for Service done to the late Protector—

Hews. Again—say _Cromwel_.

Clerk. —Cromwel—six thousand Pound in _Jacobus’s_.

War. ’Sbread, sike a Sum wou’d make me honour the Face of aud _Jemmy_.

Clerk. To Mr. _Ice_ six thousand Pound; to Mr. _Loether_, late Secretary to his High—

Whit. To _Oliver Cromwel_ say, can you not obey Orders?

Clerk. —Secretary to _Oliver Cromwel_—two thousand nine hundred ninety nine Pounds for Intelligence and Information, and piously betraying the King’s Liege People.

War. Haud, haud, Sirs, Mary en ya gift se fast ya’ll gif aud away from poor _Archibald Johnson_.

Whit. Speak for your self, my Lord; or rather, my Lord, do you speak for him. [To _Lam._

Lam. Do you move it for him, and I’ll do as much for you anon. [Aside to _Whit._

Whit. My Lord, since we are upon Gratifications,—let us consider the known Merit of the Lord _Wariston_, a Person of industrious Mischiefs to the malignant Party, and great Integrity to us, and the Commonwealth.

War. Gued faith, an I’s ha been a trusty Trojon, Sir, what say you, may very gued and gracious Loords?—

Duc. I scorn to let a Dog go unrewarded; and you, Sir, fawn so prettily, ’tis pity you shou’d miss Preferment.

Hews. And so ’tis; come, come, my Lords, consider he was ever our Friend, and ’tis but reasonable we shou’d stitch up one another’s broken Fortunes.

Duc. Nay, Sir, I’m not against it.

All. ’Tis Reason, ’tis Reason.

Free. Damn ’em, how they lavish out the Nation!

War. Scribe, pretha read my Paper.

Hews. Have you a Pertition there?

Cob. A Petition, my Lord.

380 Hews. Pshaw, you Scholards are so troublesome.

Lam. Read the Substance of it. [To the Clerk.

Clerk. That your Honours wou’d be pleas’d, in consideration of his Service, to grant to your Petitioner, a considerable Sum of Money for his present Supply.

Fleet. Verily, order him two thousand Pound—

War. Two thousand poond? Bread a gued, and I’s gif my Voice for _Fleetwood_. [Aside.

Lam. Two thousand; nay, my Lords, let it be three.

War. Wons, I lee’d, I lee’d; I’s keep my Voice for _Lambert_—Guds Benizon light on yar Sol, my gued Lord _Lambert._

Hews. Three thousand Pound! why such a Sum wou’d buy half _Scotland_.

War. Wons, my Lord, ya look but blindly on’t then: time was, a Mite on’t had bought aud shoos in yar Stall, Brother, tho noo ya so abound in _Irish_ and Bishops Lands.

Duc. You have nick’d him there, my Lord.

All. He, he, he.

War. Scribe—gang a tiny bit farther.

Clerk. —And that your Honours would be pleas’d to confer an Annual Pension on him—

Lam. Reason, I think; what say you, my Lords, of five hundred Pound a Year?

All. Agreed, agreed.

War. The Diel swallow me, my Lord, ya won my Heart.

Due. ’Tis very well—but out of what shall this be rais’d?

Lam. We’ll look what Malignants’ Estates are forfeit, undispos’d of—let me see—who has young _Freeman’s_ Estate?

Des. My Lord, that fell to me.

Lam. What all the fifteen hundred Pound a Year?

Des. A Dad, and all little enough.

Free. The Devil do him good with it.

Des. Had not the Lard put it into your Hearts to have given me two thousand _per Annum_ out of Bishops Lands, 381 and three thousand _per Annum_ out of the Marquess’s Estate; how shou’d I have liv’d and serv’d the Commonwealth as I have done?

Free. A plague confound his Honour, he makes a hard shift to live on Eight thousand Pound a Year, who was born and bred a Hedger.

Lov. Patience, Friend.

Lam. I have been thinking—but I’ll find out a way.

Lov. Or betray some honest Gentleman, on purpose to gratify the Loone.

Lam. And, Gentlemen, I am bound in Honour and Conscience to speak in behalf of my Lord _Whitlock_; I think fit, if you agree with me, he shou’d be made Constable of _Windsor_ Castle, Warden of the Forest, with the Rents, Perquisities, and Profits thereto belonging; nor can your Lordships confer a Place of greater Trust and Honour in more safe Hands.

Due. I find he wou’d oblige all to his side. [Aside. Has he not part of the Duke of _Buckingham’s Estate_ already, with _Chelsey_ House, and several other Gifts?

Lam. He has dearly deserv’d ’em; he has serv’d our Interest well and faithfully.

Due. And he has been well paid for’t.

Whit. And so were you, Sir, with several Lordships, and Bishops Lands, you were not born to, I conceive.

Duc. I have not got it, Sir, by knavish Querks in Law; a Sword that deals out Kingdoms to the brave, has cut out some small parcels of Earth for me. And what of this? [Stands up in a heat.

Whit. I think, Sir, he that talks well, and to th’ purpose, may be as useful to the Commonwealth as he that fights well. Why do we keep so many else in Pension that ne’er drew Sword, but to talk, and rail at the malignant Party; to libel and defame ’em handsomly, with pious useful Lyes,

Which pass for Gospel with the common Rabble, And edify more than _Hugh Peter’s_ Sermons; 382 And make Fools bring more Grist to the publick Mill. Then, Sir, to wrest the Law to our convenience Is no small, inconsiderate Work.

Free. And which you may be hang’d for very shortly— [Aside.

Lam. ’Tis granted, my Lord, your Merit’s infinite—We made him Keeper of the Great Seal, ’tis true, ’tis Honour, but no Salary.

Duc. Ten thousand Pound a Year in Bribes will do as well.

Lam. Bribes are not so frequent now as in Old _Noll’s_ Days.

Hews. Well, my Lord, let us be brief and tedious, as the saying is, and humour one another: I’m for _Whitlock’s_ Advance.

Lam. I move for a Salary, Gentlemen, _Scobel_ and other petty Clerks have had a thousand a Year; my Lord sure merits more.

Hews. Why—let him have two thousand then.

Fleet. I profess ingeniously, with all my Heart.

Whit. I humbly thank your Lordships—but, if I may be so bold to ask, from whence shall I receive it?

Lam. Out of the Customs.

Cob. Brotherly Love ought to go along with us—but, under favour, when this is gone, where shall we raise new Supplies?

Lam. We’ll tax the Nation high, the City higher, They are our Friends, our most obsequious Slaves, Our Dogs to fetch and carry, our very Asses—

Lov. And our Oxes, with the help of their Wives. [Aside.

Lam. Besides, the City’s rich, and near her time, I hope, of being deliver’d.

War. Wons a gued, wad I’d the laying o’ her, she shou’d be sweetly brought to Bed, by my Sol.

Des. The City cares for no _Scotch_ Pipers, my Lord.

War. By my Sol, but she has danc’d after the gued 383 Pipe of Reformation, when the Covenant Jigg gang’d maryly round, Sirs.

Clerk. My Lords, here are some poor malignant Petitioners.

Lam. Oh, turn ’em out, here’s nothing for ’em; these Fellows were petitioning my Lady to day—I thought she had given you a satisfactory Answer,

Lov. She did indeed, my Lord: but ’tis a hard Case, to take away a Gentleman’s Estate, without convicting him of any Crime.

Lam. Oh, Sir, we shall prove that hereafter.

Lov. But to make sure Work, you’ll hang a Man first and examine his Offence afterwards; a Plague upon your Consciences: My Friend here had a little fairer Play; your Villains, your Witnesses in Pension swore him a Colonel for our glorious Master, of ever blessed Memory, at eight Years old; a Plague upon their Miracles.

Fleet. Ingeniously, Sirrah, you shall be pillory’d for defaming our reverend Witnesses: Guards, take ’em to your Custody both.

Free. Damn it, I shall miss my Assignation with Lady _Desbro_; a Pox of your unnecessary prating, what shall I do? [Guards take ’em away.

Lam. And now, my Lords, we have finished the Business of the Day. My good Lord _Fleetwood_, I am entirely yours, and at our next sitting shall approve my self your Creature—

Whit. My good Lord, I am your submissive Vassal.

War. Wons, my Lord, I scorn any Man shou’d be mere yare Vassal than Archibald Johnson. [To _Fleetwood_.

[Ex. All.

## Scene II. A Chamber in Lady _Desbro’s_ House.

Enter La. _Desbro_, and _Corporal_ in haste.

L. Des. Seiz’d on, secur’d! Was there no time but this? What made him at the Committee, or when there why 384 spoke he honest Truth? What shall I do, good Corporal? Advise; take Gold, and see if you can corrupt his Guards: but they are better paid for doing Mischief; yet try, their Consciences are large. [Gives him Gold.

Cor. I’ll venture my Life in so good a Cause, Madam. [Exit.

Enter _Tom_.

Tom. Madam, here’s Mr. _Ananias Gogle_, the Lay-Elder of _Clement’s_ Parish.

L. Des. Damn the sham Saint; am I now in Condition to be plagu’d with his impertinent Nonsense?

Tom. Oh! Pray, Madam, hear him preach a little; ’tis the purest Sport—

Enter _Ananias_.

Ana. Peace be in this Place.

L. Des. A blessed hearing; he preaches nothing in his Conventicles, but Blood and Slaughter. [Aside. What wou’d you, Sir? I’m something busy now.

Ana. Ah, the Children of the Elect have no Business but the great Work of Reformation: Yea verily, I say, all other Business is profane, and diabolical, and devilish; Yea, I say, these Dressings, Curls, and Shining Habilliments—which take so up your time, your precious time; I say, they are an Abomination, yea, an Abomination in the sight of the Righteous, and serve but as an _Ignis fatuus_, to lead vain Man astray—I say again— [Looking now and then behind on the Page.

L. Des. —You are a very Coxcomb.

Ana. I say again, that even I, upright I, one of the new Saints, find a sort of a—a—I know not what—a kind of a Motion as it were—a stirring up—as a Man may say, to wickedness—Yea, verily it corrupteth the outward Man within me.

L. Des. Is this your Business, Sir, to rail against our Clothes, as if you intended to preach me into my Primitive Nakedness again?

385 Ana. Ah, the naked Truth is best; but, Madam, I have a little work of Grace to communicate unto you, please you to send your Page away—

L. Des. Withdraw—sure I can make my Party good with one wicked Elder:—Now, Sir, your Bus’ness. [Ex. _Tom._ —Be brief.

Ana. As brief as you please—but—who in the sight of so much Beau - - ty—can think of any Bus’ness but the Bus’ness—Ah! hide those tempting Breasts,—Alack, how smooth and warm they are— [Feeling ’em, and sneering.

L. Des. How now, have you forgot your Function?

Ana. Nay, but I am mortal Man also, and may fall seven times a day—Yea verily, I may fall seven times a day—Your Ladyship’s Husband is old,—and where there is a good excuse for falling,—ah, there the fall—ing—is excusable.—And might I but fall with your Ladyship,—might I, I say.—

L. Des. How, this from you, the Head o’ th’ Church Militant, the very Pope of Presbytery?

Ana. Verily, the Sin lieth in the Scandal; therefore most of the discreet pious Ladies of the Age chuse us, upright Men, who make a Conscience of a Secret, the Laity being more regardless of their Fame.—In sober sadness, the Place—inviteth, the Creature tempting, and the Spirit very violent within me. [Takes and ruffles her.

L. Des. Who waits there?—I’m glad you have prov’d your self what I ever thought of all your pack of Knaves.

Ana. Ah, Madam! Do not ruin my Reputation; there are Ladies of high Degree in the Commonwealth, to whom we find our selves most comforting; why might not you be one?—for, alas, we are accounted as able Men in Ladies Chambers, as in our Pulpits: we serve both Functions—

Enter Servants.

Hah! her Servants— [Stands at a distance.

L. Des. Shou’d I tell this, I shou’d not find belief. [Aside.

386 Ana. Madam, I have another Errand to your Ladiship.—It is the Duty of my Occupation to catechize the Heads of every Family within my Diocese; and you must answer some few Questions I shall ask.—In the first place, Madam,—Who made ye?

L. Des. So, from Whoring, to a zealous Catechism—who made me? what Insolence is this, to ask me Questions which every Child that lisps out Words can answer!

Ana. ’Tis our Method, Madam.

L. Des. Your Impudence, Sirrah,—let me examine your Faith, who are so sawcy to take an account of mine—Who made you? But lest you shou’d not know, I will inform you: First, Heav’n made you a deform’d, ill-favour’d Creature; then the Rascal your Father made you a Taylor; next, your Wife made you a Cuckold; and lastly the Devil has made you a Doctor; and so get you gone for a Fool and a Knave all over.

Ana. A Man of my Coat affronted thus!

L. Des. It shall be worse, Sirrah, my Husband shall know how kind you wou’d have been to him, because your Disciple and Benefactor, to have begot him a Babe of Grace for a Son and Heir.

Ana. Mistake not my pious meaning, most gracious Lady.

L. Des. I’ll set you out in your Colours: Your impudent and bloody Principles, your Cheats, your Rogueries on honest Men, thro their kind, deluded Wives, whom you cant and goggle into a Belief, ’tis a great work of Grace to steal, and beggar their whole Families, to contribute to your Gormandizing, Lust and Laziness; Ye Locusts of the Land, preach Nonsense, Blasphemy, and Treason, till you sweat again, that the sanctify’d Sisters may rub you down, to comfort and console the Creature.

Ana. Ah! Am—

L. Des. Sirrah, be gone, and trouble me no more—be gone—yet stay—the Rogue may be of use to me—Amongst the heap of Vice, Hypocrisy, and Devils that 387 possess all your Party, you may have some necessary Sin; I’ve known some honest, useful Villains amongst you, that will swear, profess, and lye devoutedly for the Good Old Cause.

Ana. Yea, verily, I hope there are many such, and I shou’d rejoice, yea, exceedingly rejoice in any Gadly Performance to your Ladiship.

L. Des. This is a pious Work: You are a Knave of Credit, a very Saint with the rascally Rabble, with whom your seditious Cant more prevails, your precious Hum and Ha, and gifted Nonsense, than all the Rhetorick of the Learn’d or Honest.

Ana. Hah!

L. Des. —In fine, I have use of your Talent at present, there’s one now in Confinement of the Royal Party—his Name’s _Freeman_.

Ana. And your Ladiship wou’d have him dispatch’d; I conceive ye—but wou’d you have him dispatch’d privately, or by Form of Law? we’ve Tools for all uses, and ’tis a pious Work, and meritorious.

L. Des. Right, I wou’d indeed have him dispatch’d, and privately; but ’tis hither privately, hither to my Chamber, privately, for I have private Bus’ness with him. D’ye start?—this must be done—for you can pimp I’m sure upon occasion, you’ve Tools for all uses; come, resolve, or I’ll discover your bloody Offer. Is your Stomach so queasy it cannot digest Pimping, that can swallow Whoring, false Oaths, Sequestration, Robbery, Rapes, and Murders daily?

Ana. Verily, you mistake my pious Meaning; it is the Malignant I stick at; the Person, not the Office: and in sadness, Madam, it goeth against my tender Conscience to do any good to one of the Wicked.

L. Des. It must stretch at this time; go haste to the Guard, and demand him in my Husband’s Name; here’s something worth your Pains—having releas’d him, bring him to me, you understand me—go bid him be diligent, 388 and as you behave your self, find my Favour; for know, Sir, I am as great a Hypocrite as you, and know the Cheats of your Religion too; and since we know one another, ’tis like we shall be true.

Ana. But shou’d the Man be missing, and I call’d to account?—

L. Des. He shall be return’d in an hour: go, get you gone, and bring him, or—no more— [Ex. _Ana._

For all degrees of Vices, you must grant, There is no Rogue like your _Geneva_ Saint. [Exeunt.

## 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.

[_Ana._ hums without.

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?

[_Des._ walks, she whispers _Ana._

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—

[_Des._ turns from ’em.

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._ goes close to the Bed-post, and speaks over his Shoulder.

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._ goes to coax her Husband.

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.

[_Ana._ going, spreading his Cloak, to the Door; _Free._ behind goes out.

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.

[All drink.

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.

[She goes out led by _Fleet_.

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_.

[When they have flung Cushions thus a while to the Musick time, they beat each other from the Table, one by one, and fall into a godly Dance; after a while, _Wariston_ rises, and dances ridiculously a while amongst them; then to the Time of the Tune, they take out the rest, as at the Cushion-Dance, or in that nature. _Wariston_ being the last taken in, leads the rest.

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

[Musick playing before all.

[Exeunt dancing.

## 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.

[Flat Scene draws off, discovers L. _Lam._ on a Couch, with _Loveless_, tying a rich Diamond-Bracelet about his Arm: a Table behind with Lights, on which a Velvet Cushion, with a Crown and Scepter cover’d.

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.

[He lies down along on the Couch, they cover him with the Carpet: L. _Lam._ takes her Book, sits down on his Feet, and leans on the Back of the Couch reading; _Gill._ stands at t’other end, they enter dancing as before.

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._ sits down on _Lov._

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

[_Lov._ rolls off, and turns _Lam._ over, the rest of the Men run out crying Treason, Treason, overthrowing the Lights, putting ’em out.

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!

[She groping about, finds _Lov._ by his Clothes, knows him. —Here, take this Key, the next room is my Bed-chamber, Secure yourself a moment.— [Ex. _Loveless_. Lights there, the Crown—who art thou? [Takes hold of _Lam._

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?

[Weeps, _Gill._ weeps too.

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.

## 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.

[Two Soldiers seize 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?

[They all surround him and his Red-Coats.

All. Whoop Cobler, Whoop Cobler!

[The Boys, _Lov._ and _Free._ _Corp._ and Sold. beat off _Hewson_ and his Party. _Ana._ gets a Sword, and fights too.

## 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.

[Scene draws off, Table with Papers: Chairs round it.

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?

[They all sitting down, enter L. _Cromwel_ angrily, and takes her Place, L. _Lam._ uppermost.

—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.

[Ex. _Page_.

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.

[_Loveless_ gives in a Petition to _Gilliflower_.

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.

[Ex. _Page_.

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.

[Ex. _Crom._ and _Page_.

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.

[Ex. _Fleet._ L. _Fleet_, and _Page_.

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?

[Enter _Page_ running.

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.

[Ex. _Lov._ and _Free._ another way.

## 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._ peeping out of a Garret-Window.

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.

[_Wariston_ sings the Ballad, all bearing 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.

[Goes to run away, they get him on a Colt-staff, with _Ananias_ on another, Fidlers playing _Fortune my Foe_, round the Fire.

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.

[He dances; which ended, they get him on a Colt-staff, and cry a _Cobler_, a _Cobler_.

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’.

## Act I: Scene i

p. 344, l. 21 _Push a Pike._ 1724 ‘Push of Pike’.

p. 347, l. 3 _Go out._ 1724 ‘Goes out’.

p. 347, l. 11 _the rest of the Soldiers._ 1724 ‘the rest of Soldiers’.

p. 350, l. 14 _Love, Wit and Beauty._ 1724 prints these lines as prose.

p. 350, l. 17 _A God! altho his outside._ 4tos and 1724 print this speech as prose.

p. 350, l. 22 _No, methought he grew._ 1724 prints this speech as prose.

p. 351, l. 10 _Ha, he’s yonder._ 1724 prints this speech as prose.

p. 353, l. 16 _Exeunt both._ 1724 ‘exeunt’, 4tos ‘exit both’.

## Act I: Scene ii

p. 353, l. 17 _Scene II. A Chamber in Lambert’s House._ 4tos ‘Scene a Chamber.’ 1724 ‘Scene. A Chamber.’ I have added ‘II’ and ‘in Lambert’s House.’

p. 354, l. 19 _how have I show’d._ 1724 misprints ‘how have show’d’.

p. 355, l. 28 _the Lard’s handling._ 1724 ‘the Lord’s’, 4tos ‘Lard’s’.

p. 356, l. 28 _light on yu._ 1724 ‘light on you’.

p. 358, l. 1 _a brave Mon._ 1724 ‘a brave Man’.

p. 358, l. 1 _I may cooncel._ 1724 ‘I may counsel’.

p. 358, l. 10 _he’s a brave Mon, a Mon indeed, gen._ 1724 ‘he’s a brave Mon indeed gen’.

## Act II: Scene i

p. 359, l. 11 _Scene I. A Chamber of State in Lambert’s House._ I have added ‘in Lambert’s House’.

p. 360, l. 22 _admit him tho’._ 1724 omits ‘tho’’.

p. 360, l. 25 _I shou’d say._ 1724 misprints ‘I shou’d stay’.

p. 360, l. 27 _these Heroicks are punctual men._ 1724 omits ‘men’.

p. 361, l. 4 _Walks away._ 1724 omits this stage direction.

p. 361, l. 17 _Some such trivial thing._ 1724 ‘some such trifling thing’.

p. 365, l. 28 _Verily we should live._ 1724 ‘Verily ye should live’.

p. 366, l. 21 _Write Panegyricks._ 1724 prints these concluding four lines as prose. 4tos metrically.

p. 367, l. 2 _Lambert will destroy all._ 1724 ‘Lambert would destroy all’.

p. 368, l. 1 _Or Mind embyass’d._ 1724 ‘Embarass’d’.

p. 368, l. 12 _Execrations._ 1724 ‘Excrations’.

p. 368, l. 28 _Cry mercy, Madam._ 1724 omits ‘Madam’.

p. 368, l. 29 _most lucky Minute._ 1724 ‘most unlucky Minute’.

p. 370, l. 19 _my Honourable Lord is busied._ 1724 ‘has business’.

436 p. 370, l. 22 _extemporary._ 1724 ‘extempore’.

p. 373, l. 33 _Old Oliver’s Brains._ 1724 ‘Brain’.

## Act III: Scene i

p. 374, l. 31 _take ’em then for Archibald; ’tis._ 1724 ‘take ’em then for Archibald? ’tis’.

p. 374, l. 32 _warse._ 1724 ‘worse’.

p. 376, l. 6 _Hew. My Lord, I am sorry._ 1724 ‘Hew. I am sorry’.

p. 377, l. 28 _what stuff’s here._ 1724 ‘what’s stuff’s here’.

p. 378, l. 4 _Walter Walton._ 1724 ‘Walter Walter’.

p. 378, l. 19 _ever cam into lour_, read _ever came intol our._ 1724 ‘ever came into’.

p. 378, l. 23 _I’s larne._ 1724 ‘I’s learn’.

p. 379, l. 14 _se fast._ 1724 ‘so fast’.

p. 380, l. 16 _shoos in yar._ 1724 ‘shoes’.

p. 380, l. 28 _Malignant’s Estates._ 1724 ‘Malignant Estates’.

p. 382, l. 36 _she has danc’d after._ 1724 ‘she has danc’d here after’.

## Act III: Scene ii

p. 383, l. 31 _Scene II. A Chamber in Lady Desbro’s House._ 4tos and 1724 ‘Scene, a Chamber’.

p. 384, l. 7 _Enter Tom._ 4tos and 1724 ‘Enter Page’ with speech-prefix— ‘Pag.’ and ‘Exit Page’; but Act iv, 1, 4tos we have ‘Enter Page’ with speech-prefix ‘Tom’ and later in the same scene ‘Enter Tom Page’.

p. 384, l. 12 _hear him preach._ 1724 ‘here him preach’.

p. 385, l. 8 _Beau - - ty._ And later ‘fall - ing’ to mark the sanctimonious drawl. 1724 prints ‘Beauty’ and ‘falling’.

p. 388, ll. 8, 10 _Exeunt._ 4tos omit. 1724 omits ‘Ex. Ana.’

## Act IV: Scene i

p. 388, l. 12 _A Chamber in La. Desbro’s House._ 4tos and 1724 ‘Chamber, Candles and Lights’.

p. 390, l. 33 _gives us notice of._ 1724 ‘gives us notice of it’.

p. 391, l. 29 _come a Gad’s Name._ 1724 ‘come in Gad’s Name’.

p. 392, l. 11 _Nay, I say verily, nay._ 1724 ‘I say verily, nay’.

p. 392, l. 17 _the Lard hath given._ 1724 ‘the Lard has given’.

p. 392, l. 22 _Enter Tom._ 1724 ‘Enter Page’, speech-prefix ‘Page’, and ‘Ex. Page’; 4tos ‘Enter Page’, speech-prefix ‘Tom’, ‘Ex. Tom Page’.

p. 392, l. 29 _we have hitherto maintain’d._ 1724 omits ‘hitherto’.

## Act IV: Scene ii

p. 394, l. 6 _A fine Chamber._ I have added to 4tos and 1724 ‘in La. Lambert’s House’.

## Act IV: Scene iii

p. 395, l. 8 _A great Chamber._ I have added to 4tos and 1724 ‘in Lambert’s House’.

p. 395, l. 26 _I’s drink tol yar gued Fortune._ 1724 ‘to yar gued Fortune’.

p. 396, l. 17 _Ex. L. Lam. and Gill._ I have added ‘and Gill’.

p. 396, l. 22 _light your Flambeaus._ 1724 ‘your Flambeau’.

p. 396, l. 30 _when we real._ 1724 ‘when we reel’.

p. 397, l. 8 _o’er yar Liquer._ 1724 ‘Liquor’.

p. 397, l. 15 _I’s for a Horn-pipe._ 1724 omits ‘for’.

p. 397, l. 24 _Scotch Poond._ 1724 ‘Pound’.

p. 397, l. 24 _yar Song._ 1724 ‘your Song’.

p. 398, l. 15 _lead the Donce._ 1724 ‘lead the Dance’.

## Act IV: Scene iv

p. 399, l. 28 _As well as to give._ 1724 ‘As well as give’.

p. 399, l. 36 _Kneels._ 4to 1698 and 1724 omit this stage direction.

p. 400, l. 23 _he puts it back._ 4tos ‘he put it back’. 1724 ‘he puts it off’.

437 p. 401, l. 26 _my Husband wou’d withdraw._ 1724 ‘my Husband cou’d withdraw’.

p. 401, l. 32 _He lies down along on the Couch._ 1724 ‘He lies down on the Couch’.

## Act V: Scene i

p. 405, l. 14 _Scene I. A Street._ 1724 ‘Scene I. Street’.

p. 407, l. 28 _Viva le Roy, Viva le Monk!_ 4tos ‘Via la Roy, Via la Monk.’

p. 408, l. 23 _Why, so there’s some trusting._ 1724 omits ‘so’.

p. 408, l. 33 _Viva the brave._ 1724 ‘Vive the brave’.

p. 410, l. 9 _Ana. gets a Sword, and fights too._ 1724 ‘and fights ’em’.

## Act V: Scene ii

p. 410, l. 10 _Scene II. Changes to a Chamber in La. Lambert’s House._ 4tos and 1724 ‘Scene changes to a Chamber’.

## Act V: Scene iia

p. 411, l. 12 _and I shall keep it._ 1724 omits ‘I’.

p. 412, l. 22 _L. Lam. Thou ly’st._ 4tos and 1724 print this speech as prose, but it admits of metrical division.

p. 413, l. 9 _Gog and Magog._ 4tos ‘God and Magog’.

p. 415, l. 6 _Morning and Evening Lectures._ 4tos ‘Mornings and Evenings Lectures’.

p. 415, l. 23 _Enter Page with Messenger._ 1724 ‘Enter Page with Messengers’.

p. 415, l. 30 _Where’s that brutal Courage._ 1724 ‘the Brutal Courage’.

p. 416, l. 16 _whose wise work was that?_ 1724 ‘whose wise work’s that?’

p. 416, l. 29 _Wans, Sirs._ 1724 ‘Wons, Sirs’.

p. 417, l. 5 _ya’s ene._ 1724 ‘ye’s ene’.

p. 417, l. 6 _Mr. Leyer._ 1724 ‘Mr. Lyar’.

p. 417, l. 12 _makes ye look._ 1724 ‘makes you look’.

p. 417, l. 36 _L. Fleet and Pag._ 1724 omits ‘and Pag.’

p. 418, l. 6 _no more. [Weep._ 1724 omits ‘Weep’.

p. 419, l. 11 _Go in._ 1724 only marks ‘Ex.’ for all characters.

## Act V: Scene iii

p. 419, l. 13 _Scene III. The Street._ 4tos and 1724 ‘Scene the Street’.

p. 420, l. 3 _Viva le Roy, viva._ 1724 ‘Vive le Roy, vive’.

p. 420, l. 14 _ill, I fear; ’tis a bad._ 1724 ‘ill, I fear ’tis a bad’.

p. 420, l. 32 _are here? [Exeunt._ 4tos and 1724 omit ‘Exeunt’. I supply this as, obviously, these characters must leave the stage when the Prentices rush on.

p. 421, l. 12 _ay, Ah, Lard, ah what._ 4tos ‘ay, ah Lard, what’. 1724 ‘ay. Lard, ah what’.

## Act V: Scene iv

p. 421, l. 14 _Scene IV. A Chamber in Lambert’s House._ 4tos and 1724 ‘Scene, A Chamber’.

p. 421, l. 23 _share in its kindly._ 1724 ‘share its kindly’.

p. 422, l. 7 _and Tom with jewels._ 4tos and 1724 ‘Page with jewels’.

p. 422, l. 25 _Well, if you do._ 1724 ‘Why, if you do’.

## Act V: Scene v

p. 422, l. 29 _Scene V. A Street._ 4tos and 1724 ‘Scene, a Street’.

p. 423, l. 3 _Gill. Tom, Pages, &c._ I have inserted Tom’s name here.

p. 424, l. 5 _come a merry-making._ 1724 ‘come merry-making’.

p. 424, l. 33 _you grow so vain._ 1724 ‘you grew so vain’.

p. 425, l. 7. _In a preaching tone._ 1724 ‘In a preachin tone’. The dropped ‘g’, is not intentional here, but a misprint.

_450_ Notes: Critical And Explanatory.

The Roundheads.

Dedication

p. 337 _To the Right Noble Henry Fitzroy._ Second son of Charles II by Barbara Villiers, Countess of Castlemaine, afterwards Duchess of Cleveland, was born 20 September, 1663. He married, 1 August, 1672, Isabella, daughter and heiress of Henry Bennet, Earl of Arlington. The bride was then only five years old. In September, 1675, Henry Fitzroy was created Duke of Grafton, and on 30 September, 1680, was installed by proxy as Knight of the Garter. In 1682 he 451 became colonel of the first foot guards. He died 9 October, 1690, from a wound he received under the walls of Cork during Marlborough’s expedition to Ireland. Brave and even reckless to a fault, he is said to have been the most popular and the ablest of the sons of Charles II.

Prologue

p. 341 _noise of Plots._ The ferment occasioned by the pretended Popish Plot of 1678 and the illegal Exclusion Bill was in full blast.

p. 341 _Presbytery._ Presbyterianism.

p. 341 _Forty One._ 1641 was the date of the Grand Remonstrance and Petition to Charles I.

p. 341 _Ignoramus._ When Shaftesbury was indicted for high treason, 24 November, 1681, the grand jury ignored or threw out the bill. Their declaration was ‘ignoramus’. cf. Dryden’s prologue to _The Duke of Guise_ (1682):—

Let ignoramus juries find no traitors,

and other innumerable references to this verdict.

Dramatis Personæ

p. 343 _Fleetwood._ Lieutenant-General Charles Fleetwood was son-in-law to Oliver Cromwell, and for a time Lord-Deputy of Ireland. He was mainly instrumental in the resignation of Richard Cromwell, but so weak and vacillating that he lost favour with all parties. His name was excepted from the general amnesty, and it was only with great difficulty that, owing to the influence of Lord Litchfield, he escaped with his life. He died in obscurity at Stoke Newington, 4 October, 1692.

p. 343 _Lambert._ Major-General Lambert (1619-83) lost his commissions owing to the jealousy of Oliver Cromwell, on whose death he privily opposed Richard Cromwell. In August, 1659, he defeated the Royalist forces under Sir George Booth in Cheshire, but subsequently his army deserted. On his return to London he was arrested (5 March, 1660), by the Parliament, but escaped. Tried for high treason at the Restoration, he was banished to Guernsey, where he died in the winter of 1683.

p. 343 _Wariston._ Archibald Johnston, Lord Wariston, a fierce fanatic, was parliamentary commissioner for the administration of justice in Scotland and a member of Cromwell’s House of Peers. On the revival of the Rump he became president of the Council of State, and permanent president of the Committee of Safety. At the Restoration he fled, but was brought back from Rouen to be hanged at the Market Cross, Edinburgh, 23 July, 1663. Carlyle dubs him a ‘lynx-eyed lawyer and austere presbyterian zealot’, and Burnet says, ‘Presbyterianism was more to him than all the world.’

p. 343 _Hewson._ John Hewson, regicide, a shoemaker, was a commander under Cromwell, and afterwards a peer in the Upper House. At the Restoration he escaped to the Continent and died in exile at Amsterdam, 1662, or, by another account, at Rouen.

p. 343 _Desbro._ John Desborough, Desborow, or Disbrowe (1608-80) was Cromwell’s brother-in-law. Being left a widower, he married again April, 1658. As he had refused to sit as a judge at the trial of Charles I, he was not exempted from the amnesty; but being considered a source of danger, he was, after the Restoration, ‘always watched with peculiar jealousy,’ and suffered some short term of imprisonment.

452 p. 343 _Duckingfield._ Robert Duckenfield (1619-89), a strong Parliamentarian, but one who refused to assist at the King’s trial. He had large estates in Cheshire, where he lived retired after a short imprisonment at the Restoration. His son Robert, who succeeded him, was subsequently created a baronet by Charles II, 16 June, 1665.

p. 343 _Corbet._ Although this name is here given as Corbet, Colonel Cobbet occurs Act i, II (p. 355), and we have Cobbet again Act iii, I (p. 374). This character is certainly not Miles Corbet the regicide, but Ralph Cobbet, who was both a colonel and a member of the Committee of Safety. Ralph Cobbet is frequently alluded to in the satires of the time, e.g. _The Gang; or, The Nine Worthies and Champions_ (17 January, 1659-60):—

A man of stomack in the next deal, With a hey down, &c. Was hungry Colonel Cobbet; He would eat at a meale A whole commonweale, And make a joint but a gobbet.

p. 343 _Whitlock._ Bulstrode Whitelock (1605-75), keeper of the Great Seal, and in August, 1659, president of the Council of State, was always inclined to royalism, and even advised Cromwell to restore Charles II. At the Restoration he was allowed to retire to Chilton Park, Hungerford, Wilts, and died there 28 July, 1675. According to some accounts his death took place at Fawley, Bucks.

p. 343 _Lady Lambert._ Lady Lambert was Frances, daughter of Sir William Lister, knight, of Thornton in Craven, Yorks. She was married 10 September, 1639. Contemporaries attribute Lambert’s ambition to the influence of his wife, whose pride is frequently alluded to. e.g. _Memoirs of Colonel Hutchinson_, edited by C. H. Firth (Nimmo, 1885), Vol. II, p. 189, ‘There went a story that as my Lady Ireton was walking in St. James’ Park the Lady Lambert, as proud as her husband, came by where she was, and as the present princess always has precedency of the relict of the dead prince, so she put my Lady Ireton below; who, notwithstanding her piety and humility, was a little grieved at the affront.’

p. 343 _Lady Desbro._ Desborough’s second wife, whom he married April, 1658, is said, on the dubious authority of Betham, to have been Anne, daughter of Sir Richard Everard, Bart., of Much Waltham. Mrs. Behn’s amorous lady, Maria, is, of course, purely fictional.

p. 343 _Lady Fleetwood._ Bridget, eldest daughter of Oliver Cromwell, was married first to Ireton, who died 26 November, 1651, and secondly, in 1652, to Fleetwood. She did not live long after the Restoration, and was buried at S. Anne’s, Blackfriars, 1 July, 1662.

p. 343 _Lady Cromwell._ Cromwell married Elizabeth, daughter of Sir James Bourchier, 22 August, 1620. She survived her husband seven years, dying 19 November, 1665. After the Restoration she lived in great seclusion at Norboro’, Northamptonshire, the house of her son-in-law, John Claypoole.

453 p. 343 _Clement’s Parish._ Probably St. Clements, Eastcheap. This church, described by Stow as being ‘small and void of monuments’, was destroyed in the Great Fire and rebuilt 1686. The old church of St. Clement Danes, Strand, being in a ruinous condition, was pulled down in 1680 and built again on the same site. The Puritans always omitted the prefix ‘St.’ and spoke of churches as ‘Paul’s’, ‘Mary’s’, ‘Bartholomew’s’, ‘Helen’s’ and the like.

The above Note refers to the male character Ananias Goggle, but is printed after the Commentary on the four main female characters.

## Act I: Scene i

p. 344 _Gad and the Lord Fleetwood._ Fleetwood, even in an age of Tartuffes, was especially distinguished for the fluency of his canting hypocrisy and godliness. He was a bitter persecutor of Catholics, a warm favourer of Anabaptists and the extremer fanatics of every kidney.

p. 345 _Vane._ Sir Harry Vane (1613-62), the prominent Parliamentarian and a leading member of the Committee of Safety was executed as a regicide, June, 1662.

p. 345 _Fifth Monarchy._ The Fifth Monarchy men were a sect of wild enthusiasts who declared themselves ‘subjects only of King Jesus’, and held that a fifth universal monarchy (like those of Assyria, Persia, Greece, and Rome) would be established by Christ in person, until which time no single person must presume to rule or be king.

p. 346 _Haslerig._ Sir Arthur Heselrige, one of the Five Members whom Parliament refused to yield to Charles I in January, 1642, was a republican of the most violent type. He died a prisoner in the Tower, 7 January, 1661.

p. 349 _an errant Heroick._ A term for a cavalier or Royalist, cf. Edward Waterhouse’s _A Short Narrative of the late Dreadful Fire in London_ (1667, 12mo): ‘Even so, O Lord, rebuke the evil spirit of these _Sanballats_, and raise up the spirit of the _Nehemiahs_ and other such Heroicks of Kindness and Ability to consider _London._’ Tatham, in _The Rump_ (4to, 1660; 1661), Act ii, 1, has ‘The very names of the Cromwells will become far more odious than ever Needham could make the Heroicks’.

p. 349 _cuckold the Ghost of Old Oliver._ The intrigue between Cromwell and Lambert’s wife is affirmed in ‘_Newes from the New Exchange; or, the Commonwealth of Ladies ..._ London; printed in the year of women without grace, 1650’ (4to). Noble, in his _Memoirs of the Cromwell Family_ (8vo, London, 1787, 3rd edit., Vol. II, p. 369), says that the lady ‘was an elegant and accomplished woman’, she was ‘suppos’d to have been partial to Oliver the Protector.’ A scarce poem, _Iter Australe_ (London, 1660, 4to), declares of Cromwell that some

Would have him a David, ’cause he went To Lambert’s wife, when he was in his tent.

Some six months before Cromwell’s death, when Lambert visited him, Noll ‘fell on his neck, kissed him, inquired of dear Johnny for his jewel (so he called Mrs. Lambert) and for all his children by name.’ Cromwell’s immoralities in youth, when a brewer at Ely, were notorious. Although the parish registers of S. John’s, Huntingdon, have been tampered with, the following, under the years 1621 and 1628, remain: ‘Oliverus Cromwell reprehensus erat coram tota Ecclesia pro factis.’ 454 and ‘Hoc anno Oliverus Cromwell fecit penitentiam coram tota ecclesia.’ An attempt has been made to erase these.

## Act I: Scene ii

p. 354 _Tony._ Anthony Ashley Cooper; afterwards first Earl of Shaftesbury.

p. 357 _Wallingford House._ Stood on the site of the present Admiralty. It was so called from Sir William Knollys, Baron Wallingford, Treasurer of the Household to Elizabeth and James I. After Cromwell’s death the General Council of the Officers of the Army (Wallingford House Party) met here. Fleetwood actually lived in the house. At the Restoration it reverted to the Duke of Buckingham. The Crown purchased it 1680, and the Admiralty was built about 1720.

## Act II: Scene i

p. 361 _Cobler’s-Stall._ Hewson, says Wood, had originally been ‘an honest shoemaker in Westminster.’

p. 362 _Conventickling._ Conventicle was accentuated upon the third syllable. This, of course, led to innuendo, cf. 1 _Hudibras_ (1663)

## Canto ii, 437:

He used to lay about and stickle Like ram or bull at conventicle

and Dryden, in _The Medal_ (1682):—

A tyrant theirs; the heaven their priesthood paints A conventicle of gloomy sullen saints.

p. 363 _Pryn._ William Prynne (1600-69) had been sentenced to severe punishment in February, 1634, for the scandals and libels contained in his dull diatribe, _Histriomastix._ He lost both his ears in the pillory.

p. 365 _Needham._ Marchamont Nedham, ‘the Commonwealth’s Didaper’, was a graduate of All Souls, Oxon, and sometime an usher at Merchant Taylors’ school. He also seems to have been connected with the legal profession. ‘The skip-jack of all fortunes’, neither side has a good word for this notorious pamphleteer, the very scum of our early journalism. When _Mercurius Britannicus_ temporarily ceased publication with No. 50, 9 September, 1644, Nedham recommenced it on the 30th of the same month with No. 51 (not No. 52 as is sometimes stated). No. 92, 28 July-4 August, 1645, and the number 11-18 May, 1646, revile the King in such scurrilous terms that Nedham was haled to the bar of the House of Lords and imprisoned. Later he turned Royalist, but in 1650 published _The Case of the Commonwealth Stated_, a defence of the regicides, for which he received a pension of £100 a year. He fled to Holland, April, 1660, but being pardoned, returned to England. He died in Devereux Court, Temple Bar, November, 1678, and is buried in St. Clement Danes. Wood characterizes him as ‘a most seditious, mutable and railing author,’ whilst Cleveland terms him ‘that impudent and incorrigible reviler’.

p. 365 _Ireton, my best of Sons._ Noble, in his _Memoirs of the Cromwell Family_, says that the fact Fleetwood had not the abilities of her first husband gave his wife much concern, as she saw with great regret the ruin his conduct must bring on herself and her children.

p. 366 _Richard’s Wife._ Richard Cromwell at the age of 23 married Dorothy, daughter of Richard Major, of Hursley, Hampshire.

p. 366 _glorious Titles._ Cromwell’s wife was, as a matter of fact, very averse to all grandeur and state. The satires of the time laugh at her homeliness and parsimony.

455 p. 369 _Ormond._ James Butler, Duke of Ormond, was lord-lieutenant of Ireland, 1643-47.

p. 370 _Exercise._ A common term amongst the Puritans for worship; a sermon or extemporary prayer. As early as 1574. Archbishop Whitgift speaks of the exercises of ‘praying, singing of psalms, interpreting and prophesying’, cf. Davenant, _The Wits_ (4to 1636):—

I am a new man, Luce; thou shalt find me In a Geneva band.... And squire thy untooth’d aunt to an exercise,

and also:—

[she] divides The day in exercise.

— Mayne’s _City Match_ (1639), iv, v.

p. 372 _Duke of Glocester._ Henry of Oatlands, Duke of Gloucester, youngest son of Charles I. Born 8 July, 1639, he died of smallpox at Whitehall 13 September, 1660. The Parliament sent him to the continent on 11 February, 1653.

p. 373 _he should have been bound Prentice._ A proposition was actually made in Parliament that the young Duke of Gloucester should be bound to a trade, in order, as it was impudently expressed, ‘that he might earn his bread honestly.’ Fortunately, saner counsels prevailed, in which his fate was happier than that of the Dauphin committed to the cruelties of Citizen Simon, cordwainer.

p. 373 _Old Thurlo._ John Thurloe (1616-68), Secretary of State to Cromwell; M.P. for Ely, 1654 and 1656. He died 21 February, 1668.

## Act III: Scene i

p. 378 _Highness’s Funeral._ A large portion of the debt incurred for Oliver Cromwell’s magnificently extravagant funeral ceremonies fell on Richard, who was obliged to retire for a while to the continent to avoid arrest and await some settlement. These obsequies cost in all the huge sum of £60,000, which there was a great difficulty in paying. The chief undertaker’s name was Rolt. See note on _The Widow Ranter_ — ‘Trusting for Old Oliver’s funeral,’ Act i. (Vol. IV.)

p. 378 _Walter Frost._ Walter Frost, secretary to the Republican Council of State, was quondam manciple of Emmanuel, Cambridge, and acted as spy-master and manager of the ‘committee hackneys,’ which hunted down and betrayed Royalists. This infamous fellow, who dubbed himself Esquire and Latinized his name to Gualter, was authorized to publish (i.e. write) ‘intelligence every week upon Thursday according to an Act of Parliament for that purpose.’ He licensed _A Briefe Relation_ (No 1, 2 October, 1649) from its second number until 22 October, 1650. This is certainly one of the most evil and lying of the Republican diurnals.

p. 378 _Hutchinson._ Richard Hutchinson, deputy treasurer to Sir Henry Vane. He succeeded as Treasurer to the Navy in 1651 and continued to hold office after the Restoration. He is several times mentioned by Pepys.

p. 379 _Jacobus._ A gold coin value 25s., first current in the reign of James I.

p. 379 _Mr. Ice._ Perhaps Stephen Isles who was appointed a Commissioner for the London Militia, 7 July, 1659. The name ‘Mr. Ice’ occurs in Tatham’s _Rump_ in the same context.

456 p. 379 _Loether._ Sir Gerard Lowther, who, once a loyalist, became a republican, and in 1654 was one of the Three Commissioners of the Great Seal in Ireland. He acquired large estates and died very wealthy on the eve of the Restoration.

p. 381 _Duke of Buckingham’s Estate ... with Chelsey House._ Bulstrode Whitelocke actually had obtained the Duke’s sequestered estate, and stood for Bucks in Parliament. During the Commonwealth Chelsea House was bestowed upon him as an official residence, and he lived there till the Restoration, when it reverted to the Duke, to whose father it had been granted in 1627 by Charles I. He sold it in 1664 to the trustees of George Digby, Earl of Bristol. In 1682 it became the property of Henry, Marquis of Worcester, afterwards Duke of Beaufort, and was renamed Beaufort House. Sir Hans Sloane purchased it in 1738, and it was demolished two years later.

p. 381 _Hugh Peters._ This divine, who had been chaplain to Sir Thomas Fairfax, was notorious for his fanatical and ranting sermons. Having openly advocated and preached the death of Charles I, he was, at the Restoration, excluded from the general amnesty, tried for high treason, and executed 16 October, 1660.

p. 382 _Scobel._ Henry Scobell, clerk to the Long Parliament. His name appeared as the licenser of various newsbooks, and he superintended the publication of _Severall Proceedings in Parliament_, No. 1, 25 Sept.-9 Oct., 1649. Scobell died in 1660, his will being proved 29 Sept. of that year.

## Act IV: Scene ii

p. 394 _Vails._ Avails; profits. Money given to servants: ‘tips’.

## Act IV: Scene iii

p. 398 _Cushion-Dance._ A merry old English round action dance common in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.

p. 398 _Nickers._ Or knickers, marbles generally made of baked clay. cf. Duffet’s farce, _The Mock Tempest_ (1675), Act iv, I:—

Enter _Hypolito playing with Nickers_.

Hyp. Anan, Anan, forsooth— you, Sir, don’t you stir the Nickers. I’l play out my game presently.

## Act IV: Scene iv

p. 402 _Joan Sanderson._ The air to which the Cushion Dance was usually performed. It may be found in Playford’s _Dancing Master_, 1686. Sometimes the dance itself was known as Joan Sanderson.

## Act V: Scene i

p. 406 _The Tall Irishman._ Oliver Cromwell’s porter, yclept Daniel, was a giant. This fellow, through poring over mystical divinity, lost his wits: he preached, prophesied, and raved until finally he was incarcerated in Bedlam, where, after a while, his liberty was allowed him. A famous item amongst his books was a large Bible presented by Neil Gwynne. D’Urfey in his Prologue to _Sir Barnaby Whigg_ (1681), has: ‘Like Oliver’s porter, but not so devout.’ There is a rare, if not unique, portrait of Daniel in the Print Room, British Museum. The reputed portrait in Pierce Tempest’s _Cryes of the City of London_ (No. 71. Un insensé pour la Religion. M. Lauron del. P. Tempest ex.) is not that of a remarkably tall man.

p. 410 _Enter Hewson with Guards._ 5 December, 1659, Hewson did actually suppress a rising of London prentices, two or three of whom were killed and some score wounded. This made him very unpopular.

457

## Act V: Scene iia

p. 412 _Lord Capel._ Arthur, Lord Capel, Baron Hadham, a gallant royalist leader, was, after the surrender of Colchester, treacherously imprisoned. He escaped, but was betrayed, and beheaded 9 March, 1649.

p. 412 _Brown Bushel._ A sea captain. Originally inclined to the Parliament, he became a royalist. In 1643 he was taken prisoner, but after being exchanged lived quietly and retired till 1648, when he was seized as a deserter, and after three years captivity, tried, and executed 29 April, 1651.

p. 413 _Earl of Holland._ Henry Rich, Earl of Holland (1590-1649), a staunch royalist, was executed 9 March, 1649, in company with Lord Capel and the Duke of Hamilton.

p. 413 _Judas._ The piece of plate dubb’d Judas would be gilded, cf. Middleton’s _Chaste Maid in Cheapside_, (4to, 1630), iii, 2.

3rd Gossip. Two great ’postle-spoons, one of them gilt. 1st Puritan. Sure that was Judas then with the red beard.

Red is the traditional colour of Judas’ hair. cf. Dryden’s lines on Jacob Tonson the publisher:—

With two left legs and Judas-coloured hair.

p. 414 _an act, 24 June._ Cromwell’s parliament passed Draconian Acts punishing adultery, incest, fornication, with death; the two former on the first offence, the last on the second conviction. _Mercurius Politicus_, No. 168. Thursday, 25 August— Thursday, 1 September, 1653 (p. 2700), records the execution of an old man of eighty-nine who was found guilty at Monmouth Assize of adultery with a woman over sixty. It is well known that under the Commonwealth the outskirts of London were crowded with brothels, and the license of Restoration days pales before the moral evils and cankers existing under Cromwell. The officially recognized independent diurnals _Mercurius Democritus_, _Mercurius Fumigosus_, have been described as ‘abominable’. In 1660, when the writers of these attempted to circulate literature which had been common in the preceeding decade, they were promptly ‘clapt up in Newgate’.

p. 414 _Peters the first_, _Martin the Second._ Hugh Peters has been noticed before. Henry Martin was an extreme republican, and at one time even a Leveller. He was a commissioner of the High Court of Justice and a regicide. At the Restoration he was imprisoned for life and died at Chepstow Castle, 1681, aged seventy-eight. He was notorious for profligacy and shamelessness, and kept a very seraglio of mistresses.

p. 415 _Tantlings._ St. Antholin’s (St. Anthling’s), Budge Row, Watling Street, had long been a stronghold of puritanism. As early as 1599, morning prayer and lecture were instituted, ‘after the Geneva fashion’. The bells began at five in the morning. This church was largely attended by fanatics and extremists. There are frequent allusions to St. Antholin’s and its matutinal chimes. The church was burned down in the Great Fire. Middleton and Dekker’s _Roaring Girl_ (1611): ‘Sha’s a tongue will be heard further in a still morning than Saint Antling’s bell.’

She will outpray A preacher at St. Antlin’s.

— Mayne’s _City Match_ (1639), iv, v.

458 Davenant’s _News from Plymouth_ (fol. 1673, licensed 1635), i, I:—

Two disciples to St. Tantlin, That rise to long exercise before day.

p. 416 _Lilly._ William Lilly (1602-81). The famous astrologer and fortune-teller. In Tatham’s _The Rump_ (1660), he is introduced on the stage, and there is a scene between him and Lady Lambert, Act iv.

p. 416 _sisseraro._ More usually sasarara. A corruption of _certiorari_, a writ in law to expedite justice. ‘If it be lost or stole ... I could bring him to a cunning kinsman of mine that would fetcht again with a sesarara,’— _The Puritan_ (1607). ‘Their souls fetched up to Heaven with a sasarara.’— _The Revenger’s Tragedy_, iv, 2 (1607), _The Vicar of Wakefield_ (1766), ch. xxi: ‘“As for the matter of that,” returned the hostess, “gentle or simple, out she shall pack with a sussarara”.’

## Act V: Scene iii

p. 421 _Twelve Houses._ Each of the astrological divisions of the heavens denoting the station of a planet is termed a house.

## Act V: Scene v

p. 423 _bear the bob._ To join in the chorus. Bob is the burden or refrain of a song.

p. 423 _Colt-staff._ Or col-staff (Latin _collum_). A staff by which two men carry a load, one end of the pole resting on a shoulder of each porter. cf. _Merry Wives of Windsor_, iii, 3, ‘Where’s the cowl-staff?’

p. 423 _Fortune my Foe._ This extremely popular old tune is in Queen Elizabeth’s _Virginal Book_; in William Ballet’s MS. Lute Book; in _Bellerophon_ (1622), and in numerous other old musical works. There are allusions to it in Shakespeare and many of the dramatists.