Cor. I’ll warrant you, Sir,—but have you had never a Billet, no Present, nor Love—remembrance to day, from my good Lady Desbro?
Free. None, and wonder at it. Hast thou not seen her Page to day?
Cor. Faith, Sir, I was imploy’d in Affairs of State, by our Protector that shall be, and could not call.
Free. Protector that shall be! who’s that, Lambert, or Fleetwood, or both?
Cor. I care not which, so it be a Change; but I mean the General:—but, Sir, my Lady Desbro is now at Morning-Lecture here hard by, with the Lady Lambert.
Lov. Seeking the Lord for some great Mischief or other.
Free. We have been there, but could get no opportunity of speaking to her—Loveless, know this Fellow—he’s honest and true to the Hero, tho a Red-Coat. I trust him with my Love, and have done with my Life.
Lov. Love! Thou canst never make me believe thou art earnestly in love with any of that damn’d Reformation.
Free. Thou art a Fool; where I find Youth and Beauty, I adore, let the Saint be true or false.
Lov. ’Tis a Scandal to one of us to converse with ’em; they are all sanctify’d Jilts; and there can neither be Credit nor Pleasure in keeping ’em company; and ’twere enough to get the Scandal of an Adherer to their devilish Politicks, to be seen with ’em.