Enter three _Soldiers_, and Corporal _Right_. Cor. Ah, Rogue, the World runs finely round, the business is done. 1 Sold. Done! the Town’s our own, my fine Rascal. 2 Sold. We’ll have Harlots by the Belly, Sirrah. 1 Sold. Those are Commodities I confess I wou’d fain be trucking for—but no words of that, Boy. Cor. Stand, who goes there? [To them a Joyner and a Felt-maker. 1 Sold. Who are you for?—hah! Joy. Are for, Friend? we are for Gad and the Lord _Fleetwood_. 1 Sold. _Fleetwood!_ knock ’em down, _Fleetwood_, that sniveling Thief? Felt. Why, Friends, who are ye for? Cor. For! who shou’d we be for, but _Lambert_, Noble _Lambert?_ Is this a time o’th’ day to declare for _Fleetwood_, with a Pox? indeed, i’th’ Morning ’twas a Question had like to have been decided with push a Pike. 2 Sold. Dry blows wou’d ne’er ha’ don’t, some must have sweat Blood for’t; but—’tis now decided. Joy. Decided! 2 Sold. Yes, decided, Sir, without your Rule for’t. Joy. Decided! by whom, Sir? by us the Free-born Subjects of _England_, by the Honourable Committee of Safety, or the Right Reverend City? without which, Sir, I humbly conceive, your Declaration for _Lambert_ is illegal, and against the Property of the People. 2 Sold. Plain _Lambert_; here’s a saucy Dog of a Joyner; 345 Sirrah, get ye home, and mind your Trade, and save the Hangman a labour. Joy. Look ye, Friend, I fear no Hang-man in _Christendom_; for Conscience and Publick Good, for Liberty and Property, I dare as far as any Man. 2 Sold. Liberty and Property, with a Pox, in the Mouth of a Joyner: you are a pretty Fellow to settle the Nation—what says my Neighbour Felt-maker? Felt. Why, verily, I have a high respect for my honourable Lord _Fleetwood_, he is my intimate Friend; and till I find his Party the weaker, I hope my Zeal will be strengthned for him. 2 Sold. Zeal for _Fleetwood!_ Zeal for a Halter, and that’s your due: Why, what has he ever done for you? Can he lead you out to Battle? Can he silence the very Cannon with his Eloquence alone?—Can he talk—or fight—or— Felt. But verily he can pay those that can, and that’s as good—and he can pray— 2 Sold. Let him pray, and we’ll fight, and see whose business is done first; we are for the General who carries Charms in every Syllable; can act both the Soldier and the Courtier, at once expose his Breast to Dangers for our sakes—and tell the rest of the pretended Slaves a fair Tale, but hang ’em sooner than trust ’em. 1 Sold. Ay, ay, a _Lambert_, a _Lambert_, he has Courage, _Fleetwood’s_ an Ass to him. Felt. Hum—here’s Reason, Neighbour. [To the Joyner. Joy. That’s all one, we do not act by Reason. Cor. _Fleetwood’s_ a Coward. 2 Sold. A Blockhead. 1 Sold. A sniveling Fool; a General in the Hangings, no better. Joy. What think you then of _Vane?_ 2 Sold. As of a Fool, that has dreamt of a new Religion, and is only fit to reign in the Fifth Monarchy he preaches so much up? but no King in this Age. 346 Felt. What of _Haslerig_?