War. Bread a gued there’s mickle Wisdom i’that, Sirs.
Duc. It ought to be consulted betimes, my Lord, ’tis a matter of Moment, and ought to be consulted by the whole Committee.
Lam. We design no other, my Lord, for which Reason at three a Clock we’ll meet at [Wallingford House].
Duc. Nay, my Lord, do but settle the Affair, let’s but know who’s our Head, and ’tis no matter.
Hews. Ay, my Lord, no matter who; I hope ’twill be Fleetwood, for I have the length of his Foot already.
Whit. You are the leading Men, Gentlemen, your Voices will soon settle the Nation.
Duc. Well, my Lord, we’ll not fail at three a Clock.
Des. This falls out well for me; for I’ve Business in Smithfield, where my Horses stand; and verily, now I think on’t, the Rogue the Ostler has not given ’em Oates to day: Well, my Lords, farewel; if I come not time enough to Wallingford House, keep me a Place in the Committee, and let my Voice stand for one, no matter who.
War. A gued Mon I’s warrant, and takes muckle Pains for the Gued o’th’ Nation, and the Liberty o’th Mobily—The Diel confound ’em aud.
Lam. Come, my Lord Wariston, you are a wise Man, what Government are you for.