ren! what will this wicked World
come to?

_Felt._ Alack, alack, to no Goodness, you may be sure: pray what's the
News?

[_Fleet._ peeping out of a Garret-Window.

_Fleet._ _Anania_, _Anania_!

_Ana._ Who calleth _Ananias_? lo, here am I.

_Fleet._ Behold, it is I, look up. How goeth tidings?

_Ana._ Full ill, I fear; 'tis a bad Omen to see your Lordship so nigh
Heaven; when the Saints are Garretified.

_Fleet._ I am fortifying my self against the Evil-Day.

_Ana._ Which is come upon us like a Thief in the night; like a Torrent
from the Mountain of Waters, or a Whirlwind from the Wilderness.

_Fleet._ Why, what has the _Scotch_ General done?

_Ana._ Ah! he playeth the Devil with the Saints in the City, because
they put the Covenant-Oath unto him; he pulls up their Gates, their
Posts and Chains, and enters.

_Felt._ And wou'd the wicked City let him have his beastly Will of her?

_Ana._ Nay, but she was ravish'd-- deflower'd.

_Joy._ How, ravish'd! oh monstrous! was ever such a Rape committed upon
an innocent City? lay her Legs open to the wide World, for every Knave
to view her Nakedness?

_Felt._ Ah, ah! what Days, what Times, and what Seasons are here?
[Exeunt.

Enter _Capt._ _Corp._ and _Prent._ with Faggots, hollowing.

_Corp._ What say you now, Lads, is not my Prophecy truer than _Lilly's_?
I told you the Rump would fall to our handling and drinking for: the
King's proclaim'd, Rogues.

_Capt._ Ay, ay, _Lilly_, a Plague on him, he prophesied _Lambert_ should
be uppermost.

_Corp._ Yes, he meant perhaps on _Westminster_ Pinacle: where's _Lilly_
now, with all his Prophecies against the _Royal Family_?

_Capt._ In one of his Twelve Houses.

_1 Pren._ We'll fire him out to Night, Boy; come, all hands to work for
the Fire.
[Ex. all hollowing.

_Fleet._ Ah, dismal, heavy day, a day of Grief and Woe, Which hast
bereft me of my hopes for ay, Ah, Lard, ah what shall I do?
[Exit.

SCENE IV. _A Chamber in _Lambert's_ House._

Enter _Lov._ leading L. _Lam._ in disguise, _Page_ and
_Gilliflower_ disguised, _Lov._ dressing her.

_Lov._ My Charmer, why these Tears,
If for the fall of all thy painted Glories,
Thou art, in the esteem of all good Men,
Above what thou wert then?
The glorious Sun is rising in our Hemisphere,
And I, amongst the crowd of Loyal Sufferers,
Shall share in its kindly Rays.

_L. Lam._ Best of thy Sex--
What have I left to gratif