Lov. I do not doubt your Power of being a Queen, But trust, it will not last. How truly brave would your great Husband be, If, whilst he may, he paid this mighty Debt To the right Owner! If, whilst he has the Army in his Power, He made a true and lawful use of it, To settle our great Master in his Throne; And by an Act so glorious raise his Name Even above the Title of a King. L. Lam. You love me not, that would persuade me from My Glory. Enter _Gilliflower_. Gill. Oh, Madam, the Lords are all got merry, as they call it, and are all dancing hither. L. Lam. What, at their _Oliverian_ Frolicks?—Dear _Loveless_, withdraw, I wou’d not give the fond believing Fool a Jealousy of me. Gill. Withdraw, Madam? ’tis impossible, he must run just into their Mouths. L. Lam. I’m ill at these Intrigues, being us’d to Lovers that still came with such Authority, that modestly my Husband wou’d withdraw—but Loveless is in danger, therefore take care he be not seen. Gill. Heav’ns! they are coming, there’s no Retreat— L. Lam. Lie down on the Couch—and cover him you with the Foot-Carpet—So, give me my Prayer-Book. [He lies down along on the Couch, they cover him with the Carpet: L. _Lam._ takes her Book, sits down on his Feet, and leans on the Back of the Couch reading; _Gill._ stands at t’other end, they enter dancing as before. 402 —What Insolence is this? do you not hear me, you—Sots—whom Gaiety and Dancing do so ill become. War. [Singing.] Welcome, _Joan Sanderson_, welcome, welcome. [Goes to take her out, she strikes him. Wons, Madam, that’s no part o’ th’ Dance. L. Lam. No, but ’tis part of a reward for your Insolence, Which possibly your Head shall answer for— Lam. Pardon him, my Dear, he meant no Disrespect to thee. L. Lam. How dare you interrupt my Devotion, Sirrah? Be gone with all your filthy ill-bred Crew. [_Lam._ sits down on _Lov._ Lam. My only Dear, be patient; hah!—Something moves under me; Treason, Treason! [He rises. [_Lov._ rolls off, and turns _Lam._ over, the rest of the Men run out crying Treason, Treason, overthrowing the Lights, putting ’em out. L. Lam. Treason, Treason! my Lord, my Lord! Lam. Lights there, a Plot, a Popish Plot, Lights! L. Lam. The Crown, the Crown, guard the Crown! [She groping about, finds _Lov._ by his Clothes, knows him. —Here, take this Key, the next room is my Bed-chamber, Secure yourself a moment.— [Ex. _Loveless_. Lights there, the Crown—who art thou? [Takes hold of _Lam._ Lam. ’Tis I. L. Lam. Ah, my Lord, what’s the matter?— Lam. Nay, my Lady, I ask you what’s the matter? Enter _Page_ with Lights. By Heaven, all is not well; hark ye, my fine she Politician, who was it you had hid beneath this Carpet? L. Lam. Heav’ns! dost hear him, _Gilliflower?_ Sure the Fellow’s mad. Gill. Alack, my Lord, are you out of your honourable Wits? Heav’n knows, my Lady was at her Devotion. 403 Lam. Baud, come, confess thy self to be one. At her Devotion! yes, with a He Saint.