Volume I Part 116 (1/2)

_Free._ We knew, my Lord, the Influence your Ladies have over you, and Women are more tender and compa.s.sionate 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 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 Ladys.h.i.+p.

[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 c.o.xcomb; 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 c.o.c.k 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 c.o.c.k 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, 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 Wors.h.i.+ps 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.