Fleet. Ingeniously, my Lords, the Weight of three Kingdoms is a heavy Burden for so weak Parts as mine: therefore I will, before I appear at Council, go seek the Lard in this great Affair; and if I receive a Revelation for it, I shall with all Humility espouse the Yoke, for the Good of his People and mine; and so Gad with us, the Commonwealth of _England_. [Exeunt _Fleet._ _Desbro_, _Wariston_, _Due._ _Cob._ _Hews_, and _Whit._ L. Lam. Poor deluded Wretch, ’tis not yet come to that. Lam. No, my dear, the Voice will go clearly for me; what with Bribes to some, Hypocrisy and Pretence of Religion to others, and promis’d Preferments to the rest, I have engag’d ’em all. L. Lam. And will you be a King? Lam. You think that’s so fine a thing—but let me tell you, my Love, a King’s a Slave to a Protector, a King’s ty’d up to a thousand Rules of musty Law, which we can break at pleasure; we can rule without Parliaments, at least chuse whom we please, make ’em agree to our Proposals, or set a Guard upon ’em, and starve ’em till they do. L. Lam. But their Votes are the strangest things—that they must pass for Laws; you were never voted King. 359 Lam. No, nor care to be: The sharpest Sword’s my Vote, my Law, my Title. They voted _Dick_ should reign, where is he now? They voted the great Heroicks from the Succession; but had they Arms or Men, as I have, you shou’d soon see what wou’d become of their Votes—No, my Love! ’tis this—must make me King. [His Sword. Let _Fleetwood_ and the Rump go seek the Lard, My Empire and my Trust is in my Sword. ACT II. Scene I. A Chamber of State in _Lambert’s_ House. Enter L. _Lambert_, _Gilliflower_, and Women-servants. L. Lam. _Gilliflower_, has none been here to ask for any of my People, in order to his approach to me? Gill. None, Madam. L. Lam. Madam! How dull thou art? wo’t never learn to give me a better Title than such an one as foolish Custom bestows on every common Wench? Gill. Pardon my Ignorance, Madam. L. Lam. Again Madam? Gill. Really, Madam, I shou’d be glad to know by what other Title you wou’d be distinguish’d? L. Lam. Abominable dull! Do’st thou not know on what score my Dear is gone to _Wallingford_ House? Gill. I cannot divine, Madam. L. Lam. Heaven help thy Ignorance! he’s gone to be made Protector, Fool, or at least a King, thou Creature; and from this Day I date my self her Highness. Gill. That will be very fine indeed, an’t please your Highness. L. Lam. I think ’twill sute better with my Person and Beauty than with the other Woman—what d’ye call her? Mrs. _Cromwell_—my Shape—and Gate—my Humour, 360 and my Youth have something more of Grandeur, have they not? Gill. Infinitely, an’t please your Highness. Enter _Page_. Page. Madam, a Man without has the boldness to ask for your Honour. L. Lam. Honour, Fool! Gill. Her Highness, Blockhead. Page. Saucily prest in, and struck the Porter for denying him entrance to your—Highness. L. Lam. What kind of Fellow was’t?