Fleet. Ingeniously, my Lords, the Weight of three Kingdoms is a heavy Burden for so weak Parts as mine: therefore I will, before I appear at Council, go seek the Lard in this great Affair; and if I receive a Revelation for it, I shall with all Humility espouse the Yoke, for the Good of his People and mine; and so Gad with us, the Commonwealth of England. [Exeunt Fleet. Desbro, Wariston, Due. Cob. Hews, and Whit.
L. Lam. Poor deluded Wretch, ’tis not yet come to that.
Lam. No, my dear, the Voice will go clearly for me; what with Bribes to some, Hypocrisy and Pretence of Religion to others, and promis’d Preferments to the rest, I have engag’d ’em all.
L. Lam. And will you be a King?
Lam. You think that’s so fine a thing—but let me tell you, my Love, a King’s a Slave to a Protector, a King’s ty’d up to a thousand Rules of musty Law, which we can break at pleasure; we can rule without Parliaments, at least chuse whom we please, make ’em agree to our Proposals, or set a Guard upon ’em, and starve ’em till they do.
L. Lam. But their Votes are the strangest things—that they must pass for Laws; you were never voted King.
Lam. No, nor care to be: The sharpest Sword’s my Vote, my Law, my Title. They voted Dick should reign, where is he now? They voted the great Heroicks from the Succession; but had they Arms or Men, as I have, you shou’d soon see what wou’d become of their Votes—No, my Love! ’tis this—must make me King. [His Sword.
Let Fleetwood and the Rump go seek the Lard,
My Empire and my Trust is in my Sword.