ey call the Duke of _Glocester_, was as well educated as any Lad in
the Parish; and yet you see he should have been bound Prentice to a
Handy-Crafts Trade, but that our Lords could not spare Money to bind him
out, and so they sent him to beg beyond Sea.

_Lov._ Death, I shall do Mischief: not all the Joy she gave me but now,
can atone for this Blasphemy against the Royal Youth.
[Aside.

_Free._ Patience-- Well, my Lord, we find you are obdurate, and we'll
withdraw.

_Lam._ Do so: And if you dare presume to trouble us any more, I'll have
you whip'd, d'ye hear.

_L. Des._ Madam, I'll take my leave of your Ladyship.

[Ex. _Lov._ _Free._ and L. _Des._

_L. Lam._ My Lord, 'twas I that ought to threaten 'em-- but you're so
forward still-- what makes you from the Committee?

_Lam._ I left some Papers behind.

_L. Lam._ And they'll make use of your Absence to set up _Fleetwood_
King.

_Lam._ I'll warrant ye, my Dear.

_L. Lam._ You'll warrant! you are a Fool, and a Coxcomb; I see I must go
my self, there will be no Bus'ness done till I thunder 'em together:
They want Old _Oliver_ amongst 'em, his Arbitrary Nod cou'd make ye all
tremble; when he wanted Power or Money, he need but cock in Parliament,
and lay his Hand upon his Sword, and cry, I must have Money, and had it,
or kick'd ye all out of Doors: And you are all mealy mouth'd, you cannot
cock for a Kingdom.

_Lam._ I'll warrant ye, Dear, I can do as good a thing for a Kingdom.

_L. Lam._ You can do nothing as you shou'd do't: You want Old _Oliver's_
Brains, Old _Oliver's_ Courage, and Old _Oliver's_ Counsel: Ah, what a
politick Fellow was little Sir _Anthony_! What a Head-piece was there!
What a plaguy Fellow Old _Thurlo_, and the rest! But get ye back, and
return me Protector at least, or never hope for Peace again.

_Lam._ My Soul, trouble not thy self, go in--
_With mine no Power can equal be,
And I will be a King to humour thee._ [Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I. _A Council-Chamber, great Table, Chairs, and Papers._

Enter two Clerks, who lay Papers in Order, and Doorkeeper.

_Door._ Come, haste, haste, the Lords are coming-- keep back there, room
for the Lords, room for the honourable Lords: Heav'n bless your Worships
Honours.

Enter _Lambert_, _Fleetwood_, _Whitlock_, _Wariston_, discoursing
earnestly; to them _Duckenfield_, _Cobbet_, _Hewson_, _Desbro_,
and others; _Duck._ takes _Wariston_ by the Hand, and tal