_Fireb_. My lords of Law and Physick, I have heard With perfect approbation all you've said: And since I know you men of noble spirit, And fit to undertake a glorious cause, I will divulge myself: know, through this mask, Which to impose on vulgar minds I wear, I am an enemy to Common Sense; But this not for Ambition's earthly cause, But to enlarge the worship of the Sun; To give his priests a just degree of power, And more than half the profits of the land. Oh! my good lord of Law, would'st thou assist, In spite of Common Sense it may be done. _Law_. Propose the method. _Fireb_. Here, survey this list. In it you'll find a certain set of names, Whom well I know sure friends to Common Sense; These it must be our care to represent The greatest enemies to the gods and her. But hush! the queen approaches. _Enter_ Queen COMMON SENSE, _attended by two_ Maids of Honour. _Fust_. What! but two maids of honour? _Promp_. Sir, a Jew carried off the other, but I shall be able to pick up some more against the play is acted. _Q. C. S_. My lord of Law, I sent for you this morning; I have a strange petition given to me. Two men, it seems, have lately been at law For an estate, which both of them have lost, And their attorneys now divide between them. _Law_. Madam, these things will happen in the law. _Q. C. S_. Will they, my lord? then better we had none: But I have also heard a sweet bird sing, That men unable to discharge their debts At a short warning, being sued for them, Have, with both power and will their debts to pay, Lain all their lives in prison for their costs. _Law_. That may, perhaps, be some poor person's case, Too mean to entertain your royal ear. _Q. C. S_. My lord, while I am queen I shall not think One man too mean or poor to be redress'd. Moreover, lord, I am informed your laws Are grown so large, and daily yet increase, That the great age of old Methusalem Would scarce suffice to read your statutes out. _Fireb_. Madam, a more important cause demands Your royal care; strange omens have appear'd; Sights have been seen, and voices have been heard, The gods are angry, and must be appeas'd; Nor do I know to that a readier way Than by beginning to appease their priests, Who groan for power, and cry out after honour. _Q. C. S_. The gods, indeed, have reason for their anger, And sacrifices shall be offer'd to them; But would you make 'em welcome, priest, be meek, Be charitable, kind, nor dare affront The Sun you worship, while yourselves prevent That happiness to men you ask of him. _Enter an_ Officer. _Q. C. S_. What means this hasty message in your looks? _Offic_. Forgive me, madam, if my tongue declares News for your sake, which most my heart abhors; Queen Ignorance is landed in your realm, With a vast power from Italy and France Of singers, fidlers, tumblers, and rope-dancers.