Joy. Are for, Friend? we are for [Gad and the Lord Fleetwood].
1 Sold. Fleetwood! knock ’em down, Fleetwood, that sniveling Thief?
Felt. Why, Friends, who are ye for?
Cor. For! who shou’d we be for, but Lambert, Noble Lambert? Is this a time o’th’ day to declare for Fleetwood, with a Pox? indeed, i’th’ Morning ’twas a Question had like to have been decided with [push a Pike].
2 Sold. Dry blows wou’d ne’er ha’ don’t, some must have sweat Blood for’t; but—’tis now decided.
Joy. Decided!
2 Sold. Yes, decided, Sir, without your Rule for’t.
Joy. Decided! by whom, Sir? by us the Free-born Subjects of England, by the Honourable Committee of Safety, or the Right Reverend City? without which, Sir, I humbly conceive, your Declaration for Lambert is illegal, and against the Property of the People.
2 Sold. Plain Lambert; here’s a saucy Dog of a Joyner; Sirrah, get ye home, and mind your Trade, and save the Hangman a labour.
Joy. Look ye, Friend, I fear no Hang-man in Christendom; for Conscience and Publick Good, for Liberty and Property, I dare as far as any Man.