Part 2 — THE ROUNDHEADS; OR, THE GOOD OLD CAUSE. (continued 2)
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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.
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 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, 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. 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 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.
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!—
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 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.
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.
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!
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 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.
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 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. —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 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.
—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.
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 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?— 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.
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.
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.
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 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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?
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 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.
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 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.
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 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.
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.
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.
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:
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.