_Enter_ Lomporhomock, _guarded_. _Hurlo._ My Lord _Lomporhomock_, you’re welcome to your new Habitation. _Lom._ ’Tis a cold Place. _Hurlo._ Yes; you had us’d to stew your Lungs up in Claret all Night, and the next Morning skim the Pot with a Pipe of Tobacco; but a little cold Water must now suffice: I wish I had the scourging of thy _Dutch_ Buttocks. _Lom._ Is there any Hopes of Liberty? _Hurlo._ Nothing more sure than that; they’ll first make thee dance the stripping Dance. _Lom._ How is that? _Hurlo._ They’ll first take this Stone Cloak off thy Shoulders; thy Clothes off thy Back; then strip thy Body of thy Soul, and send it into its own Country stark naked, and a good Journey to you. _Lom._ Rather a good Dream. _Hurlo._ This World is all a Dream, an Outside, a Dunghill pav’d with Diamonds; but to you and your cursed Army nothing can compare, Except I hunt the Woods, to find a Savage Boar: No sooner he his Adversary sees, But rouses up from Luxury and Ease; His Heart and Eyes, was in Surprize, and both at Civil War, And all his Passion backward flies, and flames into the Air, Then from his Jaws did Foam descend, as tho’ he fear’d no Evil; The Tail, the Tusks, the Bristles stood an end, as if he’d fight the Devil; But when with Spear, the Foe drew near, to shout for happy Day, His Ears let fall, and drooping all, cry’d _Boh!_ and run away. [_Exit_ Lomp. _Enter_ Primo. _Hurlo._ Honourable Sir, and greatest Comfort in Adversity, ’tis my fervent Desire to know what Pleasure we shall enjoy in the _Elysian_; for now all my Hopes are there. _Primo._ Has your Pleasure been intellectual, in which the Body has no share? _Hurlo._ I have had very delightful Dreams, all Spirit and Love; but I must needs say, the Body did share in the Pleasure, and Woman has been all the Delight of my Life. _Primo._ Look up, my Lord; you see yon Marble Sky, thro’ that is the Way you are to pass; then you come to a Scarlet Flame, that Flame compounds the Nature of Woman, and if that Part of Woman has dissolved thee here, how shalt thou be able to march thro’ the fiery Element, on which a Woman is made; no, it cannot be, you will descend, you’ll yearn to your old Delights, and visit the Virgins in the Night. _Hurlo._ That’s good. _Primo._ Then will you haunt melancholy Tombs, and visit _Hurlothrumbo_ in his Solitude; invite him to a Banquet of Raptures: but alas, he’ll be indispos’d, and so desire to be excus’d. _Hurlo._ That’s blank; may I not fly amongst my old Friends, and noble Officers? will they not honour me as a Person of Quality? _Primo._ Every Man is honour’d according to his Colour and Brightness; your common Souls are like dissolved Allum, pour’d in clear Water; these are not able to converse with the Sublimes, nor Gloworm shine before the Sun.