pay those that can, and that's as good-- and
he can pray--

_2 Sold._ Let him pray, and we'll fight, and see whose business is done
first; we are for the General who carries Charms in every Syllable; can
act both the Soldier and the Courtier, at once expose his Breast to
Dangers for our sakes-- and tell the rest of the pretended Slaves a fair
Tale, but hang 'em sooner than trust 'em.

_1 Sold._ Ay, ay, a _Lambert_, a _Lambert_, he has Courage,
_Fleetwood's_ an Ass to him.

_Felt._ Hum-- here's Reason, Neighbour. [To the Joyner.

_Joy._ That's all one, we do not act by Reason.

_Cor._ _Fleetwood's_ a Coward.

_2 Sold._ A Blockhead.

_1 Sold._ A sniveling Fool; a General in the Hangings, no better.

_Joy._ What think you then of _Vane_?

_2 Sold._ As of a Fool, that has dreamt of a new Religion, and is only
fit to reign in the Fifth Monarchy he preaches so much up? but no King
in this Age.

_Felt._ What of _Haslerig_?

_2 Sold._ A Hangman for _Haslerig_. I cry, No, no, One and all,
a _Lambert_, a _Lambert_; he is our General, our Protector, our Keiser,
our-- even what he pleases himself.

_1 Sold._ Well, if he pleases himself, he pleases me.

_2 Sold._ He's our Rising Sun, and we'll adore him, for the Speaker's
Glory's set.

_Cor._ At nought, Boys; how the Rogue look'd when his Coach was stop'd!

_Joy._ Under favour, what said the Speaker?

_2 Sold._ What said he? prithee, what cou'd he say that we wou'd admit
for Reason? Reason and our Bus'ness are two things: Our Will was Reason
and Law too, and the Word of Command lodg'd in our Hilts: _Cobbet_ and
_Duckenfield_ shew'd 'em Cockpit-Law.

_Cor._ He understood not Soldier's Dialect; the Language of the Sword
puzzled his Understanding; the Keenness of which was too sharp for his
Wit, and over-rul'd his Robes-- therefore he very mannerly kiss'd his
Hand, and wheel'd about--

_2 Sold._ To the place from whence he came.

_Cor._ And e'er long to the place of Execution.

_1 Sold._ No, damn him, he'll have his Clergy.

_Joy._ Why, is he such an Infidel to love the Clergy?

_Cor._ For his Ends; but come let's go drink the General's Health,
_Lambert_; not _Fleetwood_, that Son of a Custard, always quaking.

_2 Sold._ Ay, ay, _Lambert_ I say-- besides, he's a Gentleman.

_Felt._ Come, come, Brother Soldier, let me tell you, I fear you have a
_Stewart_ in your Belly.

_Cor._ I am sure you have a Rogue in your Heart, Sirrah, which a Man may
perceive