Volume I Part 120 (1/2)

Enter _Tom_.

_Tom._ Madam, here's Mr. _Ananias Gogle_, the Lay-Elder of _Clement's_ Parish.

_L. Des._ d.a.m.n the sham Saint; am I now in Condition to be plagu'd with his impertinent Nonsense?

_Tom._ Oh! Pray, Madam, hear him preach a little; 'tis the purest Sport--

Enter _Ananias_.

_Ana._ Peace be in this Place.

_L. Des._ A blessed hearing; he preaches nothing in his Conventicles, but Blood and Slaughter.

[Aside.

What wou'd you, Sir? I'm something busy now.

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

_L. Des._ --You are a very c.o.xcomb.

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

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

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

_L. Des._ Withdraw-- sure I can make my Party good with one wicked Elder:-- Now, Sir, your Bus'ness.

[Ex. _Tom._ --Be brief.

_Ana._ As brief as you please-- but-- who in the sight of so much Beau - - ty-- can think of any Bus'ness but the Bus'ness-- Ah! hide those tempting b.r.e.a.s.t.s,-- Alack, how smooth and warm they are-- [Feeling 'em, and sneering.

_L. Des._ How now, have you forgot your Function?

_Ana._ Nay, but I am mortal Man also, and may fall seven times a day-- Yea verily, I may fall seven times a day-- Your Ladys.h.i.+p's Husband is old,-- and where there is a good excuse for falling,-- ah, there the fall-- ing-- is excusable.-- And might I but fall with your Ladys.h.i.+p,-- might I, I say.--

_L. Des._ How, this from you, the Head o' th' Church Militant, the very Pope of Presbytery?

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

[Takes and ruffles her.

_L. Des._ Who waits there?-- I'm glad you have prov'd your self what I ever thought of all your pack of Knaves.

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

Enter Servants.

Hah! her Servants-- [Stands at a distance.