Chapter 119

Enter L. _Lam._ and _Gill._

Gill. I’ve had no time to ask your Highness how you slept to Night; but that’s a needless Question.

L. Lam. How mean you? do you suspect my Virtue? do you believe _Loveless_ dares attempt any thing against my Honour? No, _Gilliflower_, he acted all things so like a Gentleman, that every moment takes my Heart more absolutely.

Gill. My Lord departed highly satisfied.

L. Lam. She is not worthy of Intrigues of Love, that cannot manage a silly Husband as she pleases—but, _Gilliflower_, you forget that this is Council day.

Gill. No, but I do not, Madam, some important Suitors wait already.

Enter L. _Des._ and L. _Fleetwood_.

L. Lam. Your Servant, Madam _Desbro_, thou’rt welcome— _Gilliflower_, are all things ready in the Council-Chamber? We that are great must sometimes stoop to Acts, That have at least some shew of Charity; We must redress the Grievance of our People.

L. Fleet. She speaks as she were Queen, but I shall put a spoke in her rising Wheel of Fortune, or my Lord’s Politicks fail him.

[Scene draws off, Table with Papers: Chairs round it.

411 L. Lam. Where are the Ladies of the Council?—how remiss they are in their Attendance on us.

L. Fleet. Us! Heav’ns, I can scarce endure this Insolence!—We will take care to mind ’em of their Duty—

L. Lam. We, poor Creature! how simply Majesty becomes her?

[They all sitting down, enter L. _Cromwel_ angrily, and takes her Place, L. _Lam._ uppermost.

—Madam, as I take it, at our last sitting, our Pleasure was, that you shou’d sit no more.

Crom. Your Pleasure! Is that the General Voice? This is my Place in spite of thee, and all thy fawning Faction, and I shall keep it, when thou perhaps, shalt be an humble Suppliant here at my Foot-stool.

L. Lam. I smile at thee.

Cram. Do, and cringe; ’tis thy business to make thee popular. But ’tis not that— Nor thy false Beauty that will serve thy Ends.

L. Lam. Rail on; declining Majesty may be excus’d, Call in the Women that attend for redress of Grievances.

[Ex. _Page_.

Enter _Page_ with Women, and _Loveless_ dress’d as a Woman.

Gentlewomen, what’s your Bus’ness with us?

Lov. Gentlewomen! some of us are Ladies.

L. Lam. Ladies in good time; by what Authority, and from whom do you derive your Title of Ladies?

L. Fleet. Have a care how you usurp what is not your own!

Lov. How the Devil rebukes Sin! [Aside.

L. Des. From whom had you your Honours, Women?

Lov. From our Husbands.

Gill. Husbands, who are they, and of what standing?

2 Lady. Of no long standing, I confess.

Gill. That’s a common Grievance indeed.

L. Des. And ought to be redress’d.

412 L. Lam. And that shall be taken into consideration; write it down, _Gilliflower_; who made your Husband a Knight, Woman?

Lov. _Oliver_ the first, an’t please ye.

L. Lam. Of horrid Memory; write that down—who yours?

2 Lady. _Richard_ the fourth, an’t like your Honour.

Gill. Of sottish Memory; shall I write that down too?

L. Des. Most remarkably.

Crom. Heav’ns! Can I hear this Profanation of our Royal Family? [Aside.

L. Lam. I wonder with what impudence _Noll_ and _Dick_ cou’d Knightify your Husbands; for ’tis a Rule in Heraldry, that none can make a Knight but him that is one; ’tis _Sancha Pancha’s_ Case in _Don Quixot_.

Crom. How dare you question my Husband’s Authority? [Rises in Anger. Who nobly won his Honour in the Field, Not like thy sneaking Lord who gain’d his Title From his Wife’s gay Love-tricks— Bartering her Honour for his Coronet.

L. Lam. Thou ly’st, my Husband earn’d it with his Sword, Braver and juster than thy bold Usurper, Who waded to his Glory through a Sea Of Royal Blood—

L. Des. Sure _Loveless_ has done good on her, and converted her.

L. Fleet. Madam, I humbly beg you will be patient, you’ll ruin all my Lord’s Designs else—Women, proceed to your Grievances, both publick and private.

Lov. I petition for a Pension; my Husband, deceas’d, was a constant active man, in all the late Rebellion, against the Man; he plunder’d my Lord _Capel_, he betray’d his dearest Friend _Brown Bushel_, who trusted his Life in his Hands, and several others; plundering their Wives and Children even to their Smocks.

413 L. Lam. Most considerable Service, and ought to be consider’d.

2 Lady. And most remarkably, at the Trial of the late Man, I spit in’s Face, and betray’d the Earl of _Holland_ to the Parliament.

Crom. In the King’s Face, you mean—it shew’d your Zeal for the Good Cause.

2 Lady. And ’twas my Husband that headed the Rabble, to pull down _Gog_ and _Magog_, the Bishops, broke the Idols in the Windows, and turn’d the Churches into Stables and Dens of Thieves; rob’d the Altar of the Cathedral of the twelve pieces of Plate call’d the twelve Apostles, turn’d eleven of ’em into Money, and kept _Judas_ for his own use at home.

L. Fleet. On my Word, most wisely perform’d, note it down—

3 Lady. And my Husband made Libels on the Man from the first Troubles to this day, defam’d and profan’d the Woman and her Children, printed all the Man’s Letters to the Woman with Burlesque Marginal Notes, pull’d down the sumptuous Shrines in Churches, and with the golden and Popish Spoils adorn’d his own Houses and Chimney-Pieces.

L. Lam. We shall consider these great Services.

Lov. To what a height is Impudence arriv’d? [Aside.

L. Lam. Proceed to private Grievances.

Lov. An’t please your Honours, my Husband prays too much; which both hinders his private bus’ness at home, and his publick Services to the Commonwealth—

L. Lam. A double Grievance—set it down, Gilliflower.

Lov. And then he rails against the Whore of Babylon, and all my neighbours think he calls me Whore.

Cram. A most unpardonable fault.

L. Lam. We’ll have that rectify’d, it will concern us.

Lov. Then he never kisses me, but he says a long Grace, which is more mortifying than inviting.

414 L. Des. That is the fault of all the new Saints, which is the reason their Wives take a pious care, as much as in them lies, to send ’em to Heaven, by making ’em Cuckolds.

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.

415 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?

416 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 417 as many greater Rogues than I have done, and ’twill save my Stake yet—Farewel, Gentlemen.

Des. No Remedy?

War. Nene, Sirs, again the King’s Evil; Bread, Sirs, ya’s ene gan tol yar Stall agen: I’s en follow _Duckenfield_—Farewel, Mr. Leyer.

L. Lam. See the Vicissitudes of human Glory. These Rascals, that but yesterday petition’d me With humble Adoration, now scarce pay Common Civilities due to my Sex alone.

Enter _Fleetwood_.

Crom. How now, Fool, what is’t that makes ye look so pertly? Some mighty Business you have done, I’ll warrant.

Fleet. Verily, Lady Mother, you are the strangest Body; a Man cannot please you—Have I not finely circumvented _Lambert?_ made the Rump Head, who have committed him to the _Tower_; ne’er stir now that I have, and I’m the greatest Man in _England_, as I live I am, as a Man may say.

Crom. Yes, till a greater come. Ah, Fool of Fools, not to fore-see the danger of that nasty Rump.

L. Fleet. Good Madam, treat my Lord with more Respect.

Crom. Away, fond Fool, born with so little Sense, To doat on such a wretched Idiot; It was thy Fate in _Ireton’s_ days to love him, Or you were foully scandalized.

Fleet. You are not so well spoken of neither, ne’er stir now, and you go to that. I can be King to morrow if I will.

Crom. Thou lyest, thou wo’t be hang’d first; mark that I tell thee so. I’ll prove _Cassandra_ to thee, and prophesy thy Doom; Heav’n pays the Traitor back with equal Measure. Remember how you serv’d my poor Son Richard.

[Ex. _Crom._ and _Page_.

Fleet. She’s mad—Come, my Dear, let’s leave the House of this Villain, that meant to have cozen’d me illegally or three Kingdoms—but that I outwitted him at last.

[Ex. _Fleet._ L. _Fleet_, and _Page_.

418 Enter _Page_.

L. Lam. Imprison’d too, i’th’ Tower! what Fate is mine? [Leans on _Des._

Page. Madam, the fine Heroick’s come to wait on you.

L. Lam. Hah! _Loveless!_ let him not see the Ruin of my Greatness, which he foretold, and kindly begg’d I wou’d usurp no more. [Weep.

Enter _Loveless_.

Lov. This News has brought me back, I love this Woman, Vain as she is, in spite of all her Fopperies of State— [Bows to her, and looks sad.

L. Lam. Alas, I do not merit thy Respect, I’m fall’n to Scorn, to Pity and Contempt. [Weeping. Ah, Loveless, fly the wretched—Thy Virtue is too noble to be shin’d on By any thing but rising Suns alone: I’m a declining Shade—

Lov. By Heaven, you were never great till now; I never thought thee so much worth my Love, My Knee, and Adoration, till this Minute. [Kneels. —I come to offer you my Life, and all The little Fortune the rude Herd has left me.

L. Lam. Is there such God-like Virtue in your Sex? Or, rather, in your Party. Curse on the Lyes and Cheats of Conventicles, That taught me first to think Heroicks Devils, Blood-thirsty, leud, tyrannick, salvage Monsters. —But I believe ’em Angels all, if all like _Loveless_. What heavenly thing then must the Master be, Whose Servants are divine?

[Enter _Page_ running.

Page. Oh, Madam! all the Heroick Boys are up in Arms, and swear they’ll have your Highness, dead or alive,—they have besieg’d the House.

L. Lam. Heav’ns, the Rabble!—those faithless things 419 that us’d to croud my Coach’s Wheels, and stop my Passage, with their officious Noise and Adoration.

Enter _Freeman_.

Free. _Loveless_, thy Aid; the City-Sparks are up; Their zealous Loyalty admits no Bounds. A glorious Change is coming, and I’ll appear now barefac’d.

Lov. Madam, fear not the Rabble; retire. _Freeman_ and I can still ’em. Leads her in, and bows low.

Free. My dear _Maria_, I shall claim ye shortly—

L. Des. Do your worst, I’m ready for the Challenge. [Go in.

[Ex. _Lov._ and _Free._ another way.