Ana. Yea, verily, I hope there are many such, and I shou’d rejoice, yea, exceedingly rejoice in any Gadly Performance to your Ladiship. L. Des. This is a pious Work: You are a Knave of Credit, a very Saint with the rascally Rabble, with whom your seditious Cant more prevails, your precious Hum and Ha, and gifted Nonsense, than all the Rhetorick of the Learn’d or Honest. Ana. Hah! L. Des. —In fine, I have use of your Talent at present, there’s one now in Confinement of the Royal Party—his Name’s _Freeman_. Ana. And your Ladiship wou’d have him dispatch’d; I conceive ye—but wou’d you have him dispatch’d privately, or by Form of Law? we’ve Tools for all uses, and ’tis a pious Work, and meritorious. L. Des. Right, I wou’d indeed have him dispatch’d, and privately; but ’tis hither privately, hither to my Chamber, privately, for I have private Bus’ness with him. D’ye start?—this must be done—for you can pimp I’m sure upon occasion, you’ve Tools for all uses; come, resolve, or I’ll discover your bloody Offer. Is your Stomach so queasy it cannot digest Pimping, that can swallow Whoring, false Oaths, Sequestration, Robbery, Rapes, and Murders daily? Ana. Verily, you mistake my pious Meaning; it is the Malignant I stick at; the Person, not the Office: and in sadness, Madam, it goeth against my tender Conscience to do any good to one of the Wicked. L. Des. It must stretch at this time; go haste to the Guard, and demand him in my Husband’s Name; here’s something worth your Pains—having releas’d him, bring him to me, you understand me—go bid him be diligent, 388 and as you behave your self, find my Favour; for know, Sir, I am as great a Hypocrite as you, and know the Cheats of your Religion too; and since we know one another, ’tis like we shall be true. Ana. But shou’d the Man be missing, and I call’d to account?— L. Des. He shall be return’d in an hour: go, get you gone, and bring him, or—no more— [Ex. _Ana._ For all degrees of Vices, you must grant, There is no Rogue like your _Geneva_ Saint. [Exeunt. ACT IV. Scene I. A Chamber in La. _Desbro’s_ House. Candles, and Lights. Enter L. _Desbro_ and _Freeman_. L. Des. By what strange Miracle, my dearest _Freeman_, wert thou set at liberty? Free. On the zealous Parole of _Rabbie Ananias_; that Rhetorick that can convert whole Congregations of well-meaning Blockheads to errant Knaves, has now mollify’d my Keeper; I’m to be render’d back within this Hour: let’s not, my dear _Maria_, lose the precious minutes this Reverend Hypocrite has given us. L. Des. Oh! you are very gay, have you forgot whose Prisoner you are, and that perhaps, e’er many Days are ended, they may hang you for High-Treason against the Commonwealth? they never want a good thorow-stitch’d Witness to do a Murder lawfully. Free. No matter, then I shall die with Joy, _Maria_, when I consider, that you lov’d so well to give me the last Proof on’t.