Crom. How dare you question my Husband’s Authority? [Rises in Anger. Who nobly won his Honour in the Field, Not like thy sneaking Lord who gain’d his Title From his Wife’s gay Love-tricks— Bartering her Honour for his Coronet. L. Lam. Thou ly’st, my Husband earn’d it with his Sword, Braver and juster than thy bold Usurper, Who waded to his Glory through a Sea Of Royal Blood— L. Des. Sure _Loveless_ has done good on her, and converted her. L. Fleet. Madam, I humbly beg you will be patient, you’ll ruin all my Lord’s Designs else—Women, proceed to your Grievances, both publick and private. Lov. I petition for a Pension; my Husband, deceas’d, was a constant active man, in all the late Rebellion, against the Man; he plunder’d my Lord _Capel_, he betray’d his dearest Friend _Brown Bushel_, who trusted his Life in his Hands, and several others; plundering their Wives and Children even to their Smocks. 413 L. Lam. Most considerable Service, and ought to be consider’d. 2 Lady. And most remarkably, at the Trial of the late Man, I spit in’s Face, and betray’d the Earl of _Holland_ to the Parliament. Crom. In the King’s Face, you mean—it shew’d your Zeal for the Good Cause. 2 Lady. And ’twas my Husband that headed the Rabble, to pull down _Gog_ and _Magog_, the Bishops, broke the Idols in the Windows, and turn’d the Churches into Stables and Dens of Thieves; rob’d the Altar of the Cathedral of the twelve pieces of Plate call’d the twelve Apostles, turn’d eleven of ’em into Money, and kept _Judas_ for his own use at home. L. Fleet. On my Word, most wisely perform’d, note it down— 3 Lady. And my Husband made Libels on the Man from the first Troubles to this day, defam’d and profan’d the Woman and her Children, printed all the Man’s Letters to the Woman with Burlesque Marginal Notes, pull’d down the sumptuous Shrines in Churches, and with the golden and Popish Spoils adorn’d his own Houses and Chimney-Pieces. L. Lam. We shall consider these great Services. Lov. To what a height is Impudence arriv’d? [Aside. L. Lam. Proceed to private Grievances. Lov. An’t please your Honours, my Husband prays too much; which both hinders his private bus’ness at home, and his publick Services to the Commonwealth— L. Lam. A double Grievance—set it down, Gilliflower. Lov. And then he rails against the Whore of Babylon, and all my neighbours think he calls me Whore. Cram. A most unpardonable fault. L. Lam. We’ll have that rectify’d, it will concern us. Lov. Then he never kisses me, but he says a long Grace, which is more mortifying than inviting. 414 L. Des. That is the fault of all the new Saints, which is the reason their Wives take a pious care, as much as in them lies, to send ’em to Heaven, by making ’em Cuckolds. L. Fleet. A very charitable Work, and ought to be encourag’d. [_Loveless_ gives in a Petition to _Gilliflower_.