_Fleet._ Amen.
_Due._ I"d rather see it there than in your Hand-- [Aside.
_Fleet._ For we are, as it were, a Body without a Head; or, to speak more learnedly, an Animal inanimate.
_Hew._ My Lord, let us use, as little as we can, the Language of the Beast, hard Words; none of your Eloquence, it savoureth of Monarchy.
_Lam._ My Lord, you must give Men of Quality leave to speak in a Language more gentile and courtly than the ordinary sort of Mankind.
_Hew._ My Lord, I am sorry to hear there are any of Quality among this honourable Dissembly.
[Stands up.
_Cob._ a.s.sembly, my Lord--
_Hew._ Well, you know my meaning; or if there be any such, I"m sorry they should own themselves of Quality.
_Due._ How! own themselves Gentlemen! Death, Sir, d"ye think we were all born Coblers?
_Hew._ Or if you were not, the more the pity, for little _England_, I say.
[In a heat.
_Fleet._ Verily, my Lords, Brethren should not fall out, it is a Scandal to the good Cause, and maketh the wicked rejoice.
_War._ Wons, and theys garr the loosey Proverb on"t te, _when loons gang together by th" luggs, gued men get their ene._
_All._ He, he, he.
_Due._ He calls you Knaves by Craft, my Lords.
_War._ Bread a gued, take"t among ye, Gentlemen, I"s ment weel.
_Fleet._ I profess, my Lord _Wariston_, you make my Hair stand an end to hear how you swear.
_War._ Wons, my Loord, I"s swear as little as your Lordship, only I"s swear out, and ye swallow aud.
_Due._ There"s a Bone for you to pick, my Lord.
_All._ He, he, he.
_Lam._ We give my Lord _Wariston_ leave to jest.
_Des._ But what"s this to the Government all this while? A dad I shall sit so late, I shall have no time to visit my Horses, therefore proceed to the Point.
_Hew._ Ay, to the Point, my Lords; the Gentleman that spoke last spoke well.
_Cob._ Well said, Brother, I see you will in time speak properly.
_Duc._ But to the Government, my Lords! [Beats the Table.
_Lam._ Put "em off of this Discourse, my Lord. [Aside to _War._
_Des._ My Lord _Wariston_, move it, you are Speaker.
_War._ The Diel a me, Sirs, and noo ya talk of a Speaker, I"s tell ye a blithe Tale.
_Fleet._ Ingeniously, my Lord, you are to blame to swear so.
_Lam._ Your Story, my Lord.
_War._ By my Sol, mon, and there war a poor Woman the other Day, begg"d o"th" Carle the Speaker, but he"d give her nought unless she"d let a Feart; wons at last a Feart she lat. Ay marry, quoth the Woman, noo my Rump has a Speaker te.
_All._ He, he, he.
_Due._ But to our Bus"ness--
_Des._ Bus"ness; ay, there"s the thing, I"ve a World on"t. I shou"d go and bespeak a Pair of Mittins and Shears for my Hedger and Shearer, a pair of Cards for my Thrasher, a Scythe for my Mower, and a Screen-Fan for my Lady-Wife, and many other things; my Head"s full of Bus"ness.
I cannot stay--
_Whit._ Fy, my Lord, will you neglect the bus"ness of the Day? We meet to oblige the Nation, and gratify our Friends.
_Des._ Nay, I"ll do any thing, so I may rise time enough to see my Horses at Night.
_Lav._ d.a.m.n "em, what stuff"s here for a Council-Table?
_Free._ Where are our _English_ Spirits, that can be govern"d by such Dogs as these?--
_Lam._ Clerk, read the Heads of what past at our last sitting.
_War._ In the first place, I must mind your Lordships tol consider those that have been gued Members in the Commonwealth.
_Fleet._ We shall not be backward to gratify any that have serv"d the Commonwealth.
_Whit._ There"s Money enough; we have taxt the Nation high.
_Due._ Yes, if we knew where to find it: however, read.
_Clerk reads._] To _Walter Walton_, Draper, six thousand nine hundred twenty nine Pounds six Shillings and five Pence, for Blacks for his Highness"s Funeral.
_Lam._ For the Devil"s; put it down for _Oliver Cromwel"s_ Funeral: We"ll have no Record rise up in Judgment for such a Villain.
_Lav._ How live a.s.ses kick the dead Lion! [Aside.
_Due._ Hark ye, my Lords, we sit here to reward Services done to the Commonwealth; let us consider whether this be a Service to the Commonwealth or not?
_Lam._ However, we will give him Paper for"t.
_Hews._ Ay, let him get his Money when he can.
_Lam._ Paper"s not so dear, and the Clerk"s Pains will be rewarded.