me 'em handsomly, with pious useful
Lyes,
Which pass for Gospel with the common Rabble,
And edify more than _Hugh Peter's_ Sermons;
And make Fools bring more Grist to the publick Mill.
Then, Sir, to wrest the Law to our convenience
Is no small, inconsiderate Work.

_Free._ And which you may be hang'd for very shortly-- [Aside.

_Lam._ 'Tis granted, my Lord, your Merit's infinite-- We made him Keeper
of the Great Seal, 'tis true, 'tis Honour, but no Salary.

_Duc._ Ten thousand Pound a Year in Bribes will do as well.

_Lam._ Bribes are not so frequent now as in Old _Noll's_ Days.

_Hews._ Well, my Lord, let us be brief and tedious, as the saying is,
and humour one another: I'm for _Whitlock's_ Advance.

_Lam._ I move for a Salary, Gentlemen, _Scobel_ and other petty Clerks
have had a thousand a Year; my Lord sure merits more.

_Hews._ Why-- let him have two thousand then.

_Fleet._ I profess ingeniously, with all my Heart.

_Whit._ I humbly thank your Lordships-- but, if I may be so bold to ask,
from whence shall I receive it?

_Lam._ Out of the Customs.

_Cob._ Brotherly Love ought to go along with us-- but, under favour,
when this is gone, where shall we raise new Supplies?

_Lam._ We'll tax the Nation high, the City higher, They are our Friends,
our most obsequious Slaves, Our Dogs to fetch and carry, our very
Asses--

_Lov._ And our Oxes, with the help of their Wives. [Aside.

_Lam._ Besides, the City's rich, and near her time, I hope, of being
deliver'd.

_War._ Wons a gued, wad I'd the laying o' her, she shou'd be sweetly
brought to Bed, by my Sol.

_Des._ The City cares for no _Scotch_ Pipers, my Lord.

_War._ By my Sol, but she has danc'd after the gued Pipe of Reformation,
when the Covenant Jigg gang'd maryly round, Sirs.

_Clerk._ My Lords, here are some poor malignant Petitioners.

_Lam._ Oh, turn 'em out, here's nothing for 'em; these Fellows were
petitioning my Lady to day-- I thought she had given you a satisfactory
Answer,

_Lov._ She did indeed, my Lord: but 'tis a hard Case, to take away a
Gentleman's Estate, without convicting him of any Crime.

_Lam._ Oh, Sir, we shall prove that hereafter.

_Lov._ But to make sure Work, you'll hang a Man first and examine his
Offence afterwards; a Plague upon your Consciences: My Friend here had a
little fairer Play; your Villains, your Witnesses in Pension swore him a
Colonel for our glorious Master, of ever blessed Memory