never heard a Woman talk much of Heaven, but she
was much for the Creature too. What do'st think I had thee to the
Meeting for?

_Lov._ To hear a Rascal hold forth for Bodkins and Thimbles,
Contribution, my beloved! to carry on the good Cause, that is, Roguery,
Rebellion, and Treason, profaning the sacred Majesty of Heaven, and our
glorious Sovereign.

_Free._ But-- were there not pretty Women there?

_Lov._ Damn 'em for sighing, groaning Hypocrites.

_Free._ But there was one, whom that handsome Face and Shape of yours,
gave more occasion for sighing, than any Mortification caus'd by the
Cant of the Lay-Elder in the half Hogs-Head: Did'st thou not mind her?

_Lov._ Not I, damn it, I was all Rage; and hadst not thou restrain'd me,
I had certainly pull'd that Rogue of a Holder forth by the Ears from his
sanctify'd Tub. 'Sdeath, he hum'd and haw'd all my Patience away, nosed
and snivel'd me to Madness. Heaven! That thou shouldst suffer such
Vermin to infect the Earth, such Wolves amongst thy Flocks, such Thieves
and Robbers of all Laws of God and Man, in thy Holy Temples. I rave to
think to what thou'rt fall'n, poor _England_!

_Free._ But the she Saint--

_Lov._ No more; were she as fair as Fancy could imagine, to see her
there wou'd make me loath the Form; she that can listen to the dull
Nonsense, the bantering of such a Rogue, such an illiterate Rascal, must
be a Fool, past sense of loving, _Freeman_.

_Free._ Thou art mistaken.-- But, didst thou mind her next the Pulpit?

_Lov._ A Plague upon the whole Congregation: I minded nothing but how to
fight the Lord's Battle with that damn'd sham Parson, whom I had a mind
to beat.

_Free._ My Lady _Desbro_ is not of that Persuasion, but an errant
Heroick in her Heart, and feigns it only to have the better occasion to
serve the Royal Party. I knew her, and lov'd her before she married.

_Lov._ She may chance then to be sav'd.

_Free._ Come, I'll have thee bear up briskly to some one of 'em,
it may redeem thy Sequestration; which, now thou see'st no hopes of
compounding, puts thee out of Patience.

_Lov._ Let 'em take it, and the Devil do 'em Good with it; I scorn it
should be said I have a Foot of Land in this ungrateful and accursed
Island; I'd rather beg where Laws are obey'd, and Justice perform'd,
than be powerful where Rogues and base-born Rascals rule the roast.

_Free._ But suppose now, dear _Loveless_, that one of the Wives of these
Pageant Lords shoul