[Exeunt.
SCENE opens; Lord Rake, Sir John, &c. at a Table, drinking.
All. Huzza!
Lord Rake. Come, Boys, charge again——So—Confusion to all Order! Here's Liberty of Conscience.
All. Huzza!
Lord Rake. I'll sing you a Song I made this Morning to this purpose.
Sir John. 'Tis wicked, I hope.
Col. Bully. Don't my Lord tell you he made it?
Sir John. Well, then, let's ha't.