Chapter 117

Enter _Page_.

Page. _Cock_, Here must I wait, to give my Lady notice when my Lord approaches;—The fine Gentleman that is alone with her, gave me these two fine Pieces of Gold, and bad me buy a Sword to fight for the King withal; and I’m resolv’d to lay it all out in a Sword, not a penny in Nickers, and fight for the Heroicks as long as I have a 399 Limb, if they be all such fine Men as this within. But hark, sure I hear some coming.— [Exit.

[Flat Scene draws off, discovers L. _Lam._ on a Couch, with _Loveless_, tying a rich Diamond-Bracelet about his Arm: a Table behind with Lights, on which a Velvet Cushion, with a Crown and Scepter cover’d.

Lov. This Present’s too magnificent: such Bracelets young Monarchs shou’d put on.

L. Lam. Persons like me, when they make Presents, Sir, must do it for their Glory, not considering the Merit of the Wearer: yet this, my charming _Loveless_, comes short of what I ought to pay thy Worth; comes short too of my Love.

Lov. You bless me, Madam—

L. Lam. This the great Monarch of the World once ty’d about my Arm, and bad me wear it, till some greater Man shou’d chance to win my Heart;

Thou art that Man whom Love has rais’d above him; Whom every Grace and every Charm thou hast Conspire to make thee mightier to my Soul; And _Oliver_, illustrious _Oliver_, Was yet far short of thee.

Lov. He was the Monarch then whose Spoils I triumph in.

L. Lam. They were design’d too for Trophies to the young and gay. Ah, _Loveless!_ that I cou’d reward thy Youth With something that might make thee more than Man, As well as to give the best of Women to thee— [Rises, takes him by the Hand, leads him to the Table. He starts. —Behold this gay, this wondrous glorious thing.

Lov. Hah—a Crown—and Scepter! Have I been all this while So near the sacred Relicks of my King; And found no awful Motion in my Blood, Nothing that mov’d sacred Devotion in me? [Kneels. 400 —Hail sacred Emblem of great Majesty, Thou that hast circled more Divinity Than the great Zodiack that surrounds the World. I ne’er was blest with sight of thee till now, But in much reverenc’d Pictures— [Rises and bows.

L. Lam. Is’t not a lovely thing?

Lov. There’s such Divinity i’ th’ very Form on’t, Had I been conscious I’d been near the Temple, Where this bright Relick of the glorious Martyr Had been enshrin’d, ’t had spoil’d my soft Devotion. —’Tis Sacrilege to dally where it is; A rude, a saucy Treason to approach it With an unbended Knee: for Heav’ns sake, Madam, Let us not be profane in our Delights, Either withdraw, or hide that glorious Object.

L. Lam. Thou art a Fool, the very sight of this— Raises my Pleasure higher: Methinks I give a Queen into thy Arms, And where I love I cannot give enough; [Softly. —Wou’d I cou’d set it on thy Head for ever, ’Twou’d not become my simple Lord The thousandth part so well. [Goes to put it on his Head, he puts it back.

Lov. Forbear, and do not play with holy things; Let us retire, and love as Mortals shou’d, Not imitate the Gods, and spoil our Joys.

L. Lam. Lovely, and unambitious! What hopes have I of all your promis’d Constancy, Whilst this which possibly e’er long may adorn my Brow, And ought to raise me higher in your Love, Ought to transform you even to Adoration, Shall poorly make you vanish from its Lustre? Methinks the very Fancy of a Queen Is worth a thousand Mistresses of less illustrious Rank.

Lov. What, every pageant Queen? you might from thence infer 401 I’d fall in love with every little Actress, because She acts the Queen for half an hour, But then the gaudy Robe is laid aside.

L. Lam. I’ll pardon the Comparison in you.

Lov. I do not doubt your Power of being a Queen, But trust, it will not last. How truly brave would your great Husband be, If, whilst he may, he paid this mighty Debt To the right Owner! If, whilst he has the Army in his Power, He made a true and lawful use of it, To settle our great Master in his Throne; And by an Act so glorious raise his Name Even above the Title of a King.

L. Lam. You love me not, that would persuade me from My Glory.

Enter _Gilliflower_.

Gill. Oh, Madam, the Lords are all got merry, as they call it, and are all dancing hither.

L. Lam. What, at their _Oliverian_ Frolicks?—Dear _Loveless_, withdraw, I wou’d not give the fond believing Fool a Jealousy of me.

Gill. Withdraw, Madam? ’tis impossible, he must run just into their Mouths.

L. Lam. I’m ill at these Intrigues, being us’d to Lovers that still came with such Authority, that modestly my Husband wou’d withdraw—but Loveless is in danger, therefore take care he be not seen.

Gill. Heav’ns! they are coming, there’s no Retreat—

L. Lam. Lie down on the Couch—and cover him you with the Foot-Carpet—So, give me my Prayer-Book.

[He lies down along on the Couch, they cover him with the Carpet: L. _Lam._ takes her Book, sits down on his Feet, and leans on the Back of the Couch reading; _Gill._ stands at t’other end, they enter dancing as before.

402 —What Insolence is this? do you not hear me, you—Sots—whom Gaiety and Dancing do so ill become.

War. [Singing.] Welcome, _Joan Sanderson_, welcome, welcome. [Goes to take her out, she strikes him. Wons, Madam, that’s no part o’ th’ Dance.

L. Lam. No, but ’tis part of a reward for your Insolence, Which possibly your Head shall answer for—

Lam. Pardon him, my Dear, he meant no Disrespect to thee.

L. Lam. How dare you interrupt my Devotion, Sirrah? Be gone with all your filthy ill-bred Crew.

[_Lam._ sits down on _Lov._

Lam. My only Dear, be patient; hah!—Something moves under me; Treason, Treason! [He rises.

[_Lov._ rolls off, and turns _Lam._ over, the rest of the Men run out crying Treason, Treason, overthrowing the Lights, putting ’em out.

L. Lam. Treason, Treason! my Lord, my Lord!

Lam. Lights there, a Plot, a Popish Plot, Lights!

L. Lam. The Crown, the Crown, guard the Crown!

[She groping about, finds _Lov._ by his Clothes, knows him. —Here, take this Key, the next room is my Bed-chamber, Secure yourself a moment.— [Ex. _Loveless_. Lights there, the Crown—who art thou? [Takes hold of _Lam._

Lam. ’Tis I.

L. Lam. Ah, my Lord, what’s the matter?—

Lam. Nay, my Lady, I ask you what’s the matter?

Enter _Page_ with Lights.

By Heaven, all is not well; hark ye, my fine she Politician, who was it you had hid beneath this Carpet?

L. Lam. Heav’ns! dost hear him, _Gilliflower?_ Sure the Fellow’s mad.

Gill. Alack, my Lord, are you out of your honourable Wits? Heav’n knows, my Lady was at her Devotion.

403 Lam. Baud, come, confess thy self to be one. At her Devotion! yes, with a He Saint.

Gill. Ah! Gad forbid the Saints should be so wicked.

L. Lam. Hark ye, thou little sniveling Hypocrite, who hast no Virtue but a little Conduct in Martial Discipline; who hast by Perjuries, Cheats, and pious Villanies, wound thy self up into the Rabble’s Favour, where thou mayst stand till some more great in Roguery remove thee from that height, or to the Gallows, if the King return: hast thou the Impudence to charge my Virtue?

Lam. I know not, Madam, whether that Virtue you boast were lost, or only stak’t, and ready for the Gamester; but I am sure a Man was hid under this Carpet.

L. Lam. Oh Heav’ns, a Man!

Gill. Lord, a Man! Are you sure ’twas a Man, my Lord?—Some villanous Malignant, I’ll warrant.

Lam. It may be so.

Gill. Alack, the Wickedness of these Heroicks to hide under Carpets; why they’l have the impudence to hide under our Petticoats shortly, if your Highness take ’em not down. [To Lady _Lam._

Lam. I do believe so; Death—a Cuckold? shall that black Cloud shade all my rising Fame?

L. Lam. Cuckold! Why, is that Name so great a Stranger to ye, Or has your rising Fame made ye forget How long that Cloud has hung upon your Brow? —’Twas once the height of your Ambition, Sir; When you were a poor-sneaking Slave to _Cromwell_, Then you cou’d cringe, and sneer, and hold the Door, And give him every Opportunity, Had not my Piety defeated your Endeavours.

Lam. That was for Glory, Who wou’d not be a Cuckold to be great? —If _Cromwell_ leap’d into my Saddle once, I’ll step into his Throne for’t: but, to be pointed at 404 By Rascals that I—rule—’tis insupportable.

L. Lam. How got this Fellow drunk? call up my Officers! Who durst deliver him this quantity of Wine? Send strait in my Name, to summon all the Drunken Committee of Safety into my Presence. By Heav’n, I’ll show you, Sir—yes they shall See what a fine King they’re like to have In Honest, Gadly, Sober, Wise _Jack Lambert_. —Nay, I’ll do’t; d’ye think to take away my Honour thus? I, who by my sole Politicks and Management Have set you up, Villain of Villains, Sirrah. —Away—summon ’em all. [To _Gilliflower_.

Lam. Stay—be not so rash; who was beneath the Carpet?

L. Lam. I will not answer thee.

Lam. Nor any living thing?

L. Lam. No Creature in the Room, thou silly Ideot, but _Gilliflower_ and I—at our Devotion, praying to Heav’n for your Success to morrow—and am I thus rewarded?

[Weeps, _Gill._ weeps too.

Lam. My Soul, I cannot bear the Sight of Tears From these dear Charming Eyes.

L. Lam. No matter, Sir, the Committee shall right me.

Lam. Upon my Knees I ask thy Pardon, Dear; by all that’s good, I wou’d have sworn I’d felt something stir beneath me as I sat, which threw me over.

L. Lam. Only your Brains turn’d round with too much drinking and dancing, Exercises you are not us’d to—go sleep, and settle ’em, for I’ll not deign to Bed with you to night—retire, as e’er you hope to have my Aid in your Advancement to the Crown.

Lam. I’m gone—and once more pardon my Mistake. [Bows, and goes out. Ex. _Gill._

L. Lam. —So, this fighting Fool, so worshipp’d by the Rabble, How meanly can a Woman make him sneak?— 405 The happy Night’s our own— [To _Loveless_.

Enter _Gill._ _Loveless_.

Lov. Excellent Creature, how I do adore thee!

L. Lam. But you, perhaps, are satisfied already—

Lov. Never; shou’dst thou be kind to all Eternity. Thou hast one Virtue more, I pay thee Homage for; I heard from the Alcove how great a Mistress thou art in the dear Mystery of Jilting.

L. Lam. That’s the first Lesson Women learn in Conventicles, Religion teaches those Maxims to our Sex: by this

Kings are deposed, and Commonwealths are rul’d; By Jilting all the Universe is fool’d. [Exeunt.