lat or a _Scotch_ Spur, Sirs? a guedly
Ballat, or a _Scotch_ Spur.-- 'Sbread, I's scapt hitherte weele enough,
I's say'd my Crag fro stretching twa Inches longer than 'twas borne:
will ya buy a Jack-line to roast the Rump, a new Jack Lambert Line?-- or
a blithe Ditty of the Noble _Scotch_ General?-- come buy my Ditties.

_Cap._ How, a Ditty o'th' General? let's see't, Sirrah.

_War._ 'Sbread, Sirs, and here's the guedly Ballat of the General's
coming out of _Scotland_.

_Cap._ Here, who sings it? we'll all bear the bob.

[_Wariston_ sings the Ballad, all bearing the Bob.

Enter _Ananias_ crying Almanacks.

_Ana._ New Almanacks, new Almanacks.

_Cap._ Hah, who have we here? _Ananias_, Holder-forth of _Clement's_
Parish?

_All._ Ha, a Traytor, a Traytor.

_Lov._ If I am not mistaken, this blithe Ballad-singer too was Chair-man
to the Committee of Safety.

_Cap._ Is your Lordship turned Pedlar at last?

_War._ What mon I do noo? Lerd, ne mere Lerd than yar sel, Sir; wons I
show 'em a fair pair of Heels.
[Goes to run away, they get him on a Colt-staff, with _Ananias_ on
another, Fidlers playing _Fortune my Foe_, round the Fire.

_Cap._ Play _Fortune my Foe_, Sirrah.

Enter _Hewson_, drest like a Country Fellow.

_Cor._ Who are you, Sirrah? you have the mark o' th' Beast.

_Hews._ Who aye, Sir? Aye am a Doncer, that come a merry-making among
ya--

_Cap._ Come, Sirrah, your Feats of Activity quickly then.
[He dances; which ended, they get him on a Colt-staff, and cry a
_Cobler_, a _Cobler_.

_All._ A Cobler, a Cobler.

_Cap._ To Prison with the Traytors, and then we have made a good Night's
work on't.
_Then let's all home, and to the Powers Divine
Pray for the King, and all the Sacred Line._ [Exeunt.

EPILOGUE.

Spoken by Lady _Desbro_.

_The Vizor's off, and now I dare appear.
High for the _Royal Cause_ in Cavalier;
Tho once as true a _Whig_ as most of you,
Cou'd cant, and lye, preach, and dissemble too:
So far you drew me in, but faith I'll be
Reveng'd on you for thus debauching me:
Same of your pious Cheats I'll open lay,
That lead your _Ignoramus_ Flock astray:
For since I cannot fight, I will not fail
To exercise my Talent, that's to rail.
Ye Race of Hypocrites, whose Cloak of Zeal
Covers the Knave that cants for _Commonweal_,
All Laws, the Church and State to Ruin brings,
And impudently sets a Rule on Kings;
Ruin,