_Lam._ But above half the Nation are for him.
_War._ Bread a gued, and I's for him then.
_Fleet._ The Will of the Lard be done; and since 'tis his Will, I cannot withstand my Fate-- ingeniously.
_Whit._ My Lord _Wariston_, a Word-- What if _Lambert_ were the Man?
[Takes him aside.
_War._ Right Sir, Wons and ya have spoken aud; he's a brave Mon, a Mon indeed gen I's have any Judgment.
_Whit._ So I find this Property's for any use. [Aside.
_Lam._ My Lord, I perceive Heaven and Earth conspire to make you our Prince.
_Fleet._ Ingeniously, my Lords, the Weight of three Kingdoms is a heavy Burden for so weak Parts as mine: therefore I will, before I appear at Council, go seek the Lard in this great Affair; and if I receive a Revelation for it, I shall with all Humility espouse the Yoke, for the Good of his People and mine; and so Gad with us, the Commonwealth of _England_.
[Exeunt _Fleet._ _Desbro_, _Wariston_, _Due._ _Cob._ _Hews_, and _Whit._
_L. Lam._ Poor deluded Wretch, 'tis not yet come to that.
_Lam._ No, my dear, the Voice will go clearly for me; what with Bribes to some, Hypocrisy and Pretence of Religion to others, and promis'd Preferments to the rest, I have engag'd 'em all.
_L. Lam._ And will you be a King?
_Lam._ You think that's so fine a thing-- but let me tell you, my Love, a King's a Slave to a Protector, a King's ty'd up to a thousand Rules of musty Law, which we can break at pleasure; we can rule without Parliaments, at least chuse whom we please, make 'em agree to our Proposals, or set a Guard upon 'em, and starve 'em till they do.
_L. Lam._ But their Votes are the strangest things-- that they must pass for Laws; you were never voted King.
_Lam._ No, nor care to be: The sharpest Sword's my Vote, my Law, my Title. They voted _Dick_ should reign, where is he now? They voted the great Heroicks from the Succession; but had they Arms or Men, as I have, you shou'd soon see what wou'd become of their Votes-- No, my Love! 'tis this-- must make me King.
[His Sword.
Let _Fleetwood_ and the Rump go seek the Lard, My Empire and my Trust is in my Sword.
ACT II.
SCENE I. _A Chamber of State in _Lambert's_ House._
Enter L. _Lambert_, _Gilliflower_, and Women-servants.
_L. Lam._ _Gilliflower_, has none been here to ask for any of my People, in order to his approach to me?
_Gill._ None, Madam.
_L. Lam._ Madam! How dull thou art? wo't never learn to give me a better Title than such an one as foolish Custom bestows on every common Wench?
_Gill._ Pardon my Ignorance, Madam.
_L. Lam._ Again Madam?
_Gill._ Really, Madam, I shou'd be glad to know by what other Title you wou'd be distinguish'd?
_L. Lam._ Abominable dull! Do'st thou not know on what score my Dear is gone to _Wallingford_ House?
_Gill._ I cannot divine, Madam.
_L. Lam._ Heaven help thy Ignorance! he's gone to be made Protector, Fool, or at least a King, thou Creature; and from this Day I date my self her Highness.
_Gill._ That will be very fine indeed, an't please your Highness.
_L. Lam._ I think 'twill sute better with my Person and Beauty than with the other Woman-- what d'ye call her? Mrs. _Cromwell_-- my Shape-- and Gate-- my Humour, and my Youth have something more of Grandeur, have they not?
_Gill._ Infinitely, an't please your Highness.
Enter _Page_.
_Page._ Madam, a Man without has the boldness to ask for your Honour.
_L. Lam._ Honour, Fool!
_Gill._ Her Highness, Blockhead.
_Page._ Saucily prest in, and struck the Porter for denying him entrance to your-- Highness.
_L. Lam._ What kind of Fellow was't?
_Page._ A rude, rough, hectoring Swash, an't please your Highness; nay, and two or three times, Gad forgive me, he swore too.
_L. Lam._ It must be he. [Aside.
_Page._ His Habit was something bad and Cavalierish-- I believe 'twas some poor petitioning, begging Tory, who having been sequester'd, wou'd press your Highness for some Favour.
_L. Lam._ Yes, it must be he-- ah, foolish Creature! and can he hope Relief, and be a villanous Cavalier? out upon 'em, poor Wretches-- you may admit him tho', for I long to hear how one of those things talk.
_Gill._ Oh, most strangely, Madam-- an please your Highness, I shou'd say.
Enter _Loveless_.
_L. Lam._ 'Tis he, I'll swear, _Gilliflower_, these Heroicks are punctual men-- how now, your Bus'ness with us, Fellow?
_Lov._ My Bus'ness, Madam?--
_L. Lam._ Hast thou ever a Petition to us?
_Lov._ A Petition, Madam?-- Sure this put-- on Greatness is to amuse her Servants, or has she forgot that she invited me? or indeed forgot me?-- [Aside.
_L. Lam._ What art thou?