_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?