Volume I Part 120 (2/2)

_L. Des._ Shou'd I tell this, I shou'd not find belief. [Aside.

_Ana._ Madam, I have another Errand to your Ladis.h.i.+p.-- 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 b.l.o.o.d.y 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, l.u.s.t 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 Ladis.h.i.+p.

_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 Ladis.h.i.+p 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. .h.i.ther 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 b.l.o.o.d.y 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_.

<script>