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; 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.
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.
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.
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 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?
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!
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—
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;
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 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.
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.
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.
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?
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.
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.
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, 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?
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.