The Works of Aphra Behn Volume I Part 130

_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 pet.i.tion'd me With humble Adoration, now scarce pay Common Civilities due to my s.e.x 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 circ.u.mvented _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 _Ca.s.sandra_ 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_.

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 n.o.ble 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 G.o.d-like Virtue in your s.e.x?

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 that us'd to croud my Coach's Wheels, and stop my Pa.s.sage, 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.

SCENE III. _The Street._

Enter _Captain_ and the rest.

_Capt._ I say we'll have the She-Politican out, she did more mischief than her Husband, pitiful, dittiful _Lambert_; who is, thanks be prais'd, in the Tower, to which place Lord of his Mercy bring all the King's Enemies.

_All._ Amen, Amen.

Enter _Lov._ and _Freeman_.

_Lov._ Why, how now, Captain, what, besiege the Women! No, let us lead our Force to n.o.bler Enemies.

_Capt._ Nay, n.o.ble Chief, your Word's our Law.

_Lov._ No, I resign that t.i.tle to the brave _Scotch_ General, who has just now enter'd the City.

_Capt._ We know it, Sir; do you not observe how the Crop-ear'd Fanaticks trot out of Town?-- The Rogues began their old belov'd Mutiny, but 'twould not do.

_Lov._ A Pox upon 'em, they went out like the Snuff of a Candle, stinkingly and blinkingly.

_1 Pr._ Ay, ay, let 'em hang themselves, and then they are cold Meat for the Devil.

_Capt._ But, n.o.ble Champion, I hope we may have leave to roast the Rump to night.