_L. Fleet._ A very charitable Work, and ought to be encourag'd.
[_Loveless_ gives in a Petition to _Gilliflower_.
_Gill._ The humble Petition of the Lady _Make-shift._ [Reads.
--Heav'ns, Madam, here are many thousand Hands to't of the distressed Sex.
_All._ Read it.
_Gill. Reads._] Whereas there pass'd an Act, _June_ 24th, against Fornication and Adultery, to the great detriment of most of the young Ladies, Gentlewomen, and Commonalty of _England_, and to the utter decay of many whole Families, especially when married to old Men; your Petitioners most humbly beg your Honours will take this great Grievance into mature Consideration, and the said Act may be repealed.
--A Blessing on 'em, they shall have my Hand too.
_L. Lam._ We acknowledge, there are many Grievances in that Act; but there are many Conveniences too, for it ties up the villanous Tongues of Men from boasting our Favours.
_Crom._ But as it lays a Scandal on Society-- tis troublesome, Society being the very Life of a Republick-- _Peters_ the first, and _Martin_ the second.
_Lov._ But in a Free-State, why shou'd we not be free?
_L. Des._ Why not? we stand for the Liberty and Property of our Sex, and will present it to the Committee of Safety.
_Lov._ Secondly, we desire the Heroicks, vulgarly call'd the Malignant, may not be look'd on as Monsters, for assuredly they are Men; and that it may not be charg'd to us as a Crime to keep 'em company, for they are honest Men.
_2 Lady._ And some of 'em Men that will stand to their Principles.
_L. Lam._ Is there no other honest Men that will do as well?
_3 Lady._ Good Men are scarce.
_L. Lam._ They're all for Heroicks, sure 'tis the mode to love 'em-- I cannot blame 'em.
[Aside.
_Lov._ And that when we go to Morning and Evening Lectures, to _Tantlings_, or elsewhere, and either before or after visit a private Friend, it may be actionable for the wicked to scandalize us, by terming of it, abusing the Creature, when 'tis harmless recreating the Creature.
_All._ Reason, Reason.
_Lov._ Nor that any Husband shou'd interrupt his Wife, when at her private Devotion.
Enter _Page_.
_L. Lam._ I have been too late sensible of that Grievance.
_Gill._ And, Madam, I wou'd humbly pray a Patent for Scolding, to ease my Spleen.
_Page._ An please your Highness, here's a Messenger arriv'd Post with Letters from my Lord the General.
[Ex. _Page_.
_L. Lam._ Greater Affairs-- oblige us to break up the Council.
[Rises, the Women retire.
Enter _Page_ with Messenger, or Letters.
--What means this haste? [Opens, and reads 'em.
_Crom._ Hah, bless my Eye-sight, she looks pale,-- now red again; some turn to his Confusion, Heav'n, I beseech thee.
_L. Lam._ My Lord's undone! his Army has deserted him; Left him defenceless to the Enemies Pow'r.
Ah, Coward Traytors! Where's that brutal Courage, That made you so successful in your Villanies?
Has Hell, that taught you Valour, now abandon'd ye?
--How in an instant are my Glories fall'n!
_Crom._ Ha, ha, ha-- What, has your Highness any Cause of Grief?
_Gill._ Call up your Courage, Madam, do not let these things scoff you-- you may be yet a Queen: Remember what _Lilly_ told you, Madam.
_L. Lam._ Damn _Lilly_, who with lying Prophecies has rais'd me to the hopes of Majesty: a Legion of his Devils take him for't.
_Crom._ Oh, have a care of Cursing, Madam.
_L. Lam._ Screech-Owl, away, thy Voice is ominous.
Oh I cou'd rave! but that it is not great; --And silent Sorrow-- has most Majesty.
Enter _Wariston_, huffing.
_War._ Wons, Madam, undone, undone; our honourable Committee is gone to th' Diel, and the damn'd loosey Rump is aud in aud; the muckle Diel set it i'solt, and his Dam drink most for't.
_Crom._ The Committee dissolv'd! whose wise work was that? it looks like _Fleetwood's_ silly Politicks.
_War._ Marry, and yar Ladiship's i'th' right,'twas en the Work o'th'
faud Loone, the Diel brest his Wem for't.
Enter _Hewson_, _Desbro_, _Whitlock_, _Duc._ and _Cob._
_Hew._ So, Brethren in Iniquity, we have spun a fine Thred, the Rump's all in all now, rules the Roast, and has sent for the General with Scissers and Rasor.
_Whit._ With a Sisseraro, you mean.
_Hew._ None of your Terms in Law, good Brother.
_War._ Right; but gen ya have any Querks in Law, Mr. Lyar, that will save our Crags, 'twill be warth a Fee.
_Duc._ We have plaid our Cards fair.
_War._ I's deny that; Wans, Sirs, ya plaid 'em faul; a Fule had the shooftling of'em, and the Muckle Diel himself turn up Trump.
_Whit._ We are lost, Gentlemen, utterly lost; who the Devil wou'd have thought of a Dissolution?
_Hews._ Is there no Remedy?
_Duc._ Death, I'll to the _Scotch_ General; turn but in time as many greater Rogues than I have done, and 'twill save my Stake yet-- Farewel, Gentlemen.