Gill. Ah! Gad forbid the Saints should be so wicked. L. Lam. Hark ye, thou little sniveling Hypocrite, who hast no Virtue but a little Conduct in Martial Discipline; who hast by Perjuries, Cheats, and pious Villanies, wound thy self up into the Rabble’s Favour, where thou mayst stand till some more great in Roguery remove thee from that height, or to the Gallows, if the King return: hast thou the Impudence to charge my Virtue? Lam. I know not, Madam, whether that Virtue you boast were lost, or only stak’t, and ready for the Gamester; but I am sure a Man was hid under this Carpet. L. Lam. Oh Heav’ns, a Man! Gill. Lord, a Man! Are you sure ’twas a Man, my Lord?—Some villanous Malignant, I’ll warrant. Lam. It may be so. Gill. Alack, the Wickedness of these Heroicks to hide under Carpets; why they’l have the impudence to hide under our Petticoats shortly, if your Highness take ’em not down. [To Lady _Lam._ Lam. I do believe so; Death—a Cuckold? shall that black Cloud shade all my rising Fame? L. Lam. Cuckold! Why, is that Name so great a Stranger to ye, Or has your rising Fame made ye forget How long that Cloud has hung upon your Brow? —’Twas once the height of your Ambition, Sir; When you were a poor-sneaking Slave to _Cromwell_, Then you cou’d cringe, and sneer, and hold the Door, And give him every Opportunity, Had not my Piety defeated your Endeavours. Lam. That was for Glory, Who wou’d not be a Cuckold to be great? —If _Cromwell_ leap’d into my Saddle once, I’ll step into his Throne for’t: but, to be pointed at 404 By Rascals that I—rule—’tis insupportable. L. Lam. How got this Fellow drunk? call up my Officers! Who durst deliver him this quantity of Wine? Send strait in my Name, to summon all the Drunken Committee of Safety into my Presence. By Heav’n, I’ll show you, Sir—yes they shall See what a fine King they’re like to have In Honest, Gadly, Sober, Wise _Jack Lambert_. —Nay, I’ll do’t; d’ye think to take away my Honour thus? I, who by my sole Politicks and Management Have set you up, Villain of Villains, Sirrah. —Away—summon ’em all. [To _Gilliflower_. Lam. Stay—be not so rash; who was beneath the Carpet? L. Lam. I will not answer thee. Lam. Nor any living thing? L. Lam. No Creature in the Room, thou silly Ideot, but _Gilliflower_ and I—at our Devotion, praying to Heav’n for your Success to morrow—and am I thus rewarded? [Weeps, _Gill._ weeps too. Lam. My Soul, I cannot bear the Sight of Tears From these dear Charming Eyes. L. Lam. No matter, Sir, the Committee shall right me. Lam. Upon my Knees I ask thy Pardon, Dear; by all that’s good, I wou’d have sworn I’d felt something stir beneath me as I sat, which threw me over. L. Lam. Only your Brains turn’d round with too much drinking and dancing, Exercises you are not us’d to—go sleep, and settle ’em, for I’ll not deign to Bed with you to night—retire, as e’er you hope to have my Aid in your Advancement to the Crown.