t a Death shall I die:--is there no place of safety
hereabouts--for there is no resisting these unmerciful Weapons.

_Isab._ A Man's Voice!

L. _Fan._ I know of none, nor how to prevent your Discovery.

Sir _Pat._ [Within.] Oh, oh, lead me forward, I'll lie here on the
Garden-side, out of the hearing of this Hellish Noise.

L. _Fan._ Hah, Noise!--what means he?

_Lod._ Nay, I know not, is there no escaping?--

_Isab._ Who can they be that talk thus? sure I have mistook my Chamber.

L. _Fan._ Oh, he's coming in--I'm ruin'd; what shall we do? here--get
into the Bed--and cover your self with the Clothes--quickly--oh, my
Confusion will betray me.
[_Lodwick_ gets into the Bed, _Isabella_ hides behind the Curtain
very near to him.

Enter Sir _Patient_, led by _Nurse_ and _Maundy_, with Lights.

_Maun._ Pray go back, Sir, my poor Lady will be frighted out of her Wits
at this danger you put your self into, the Noise shall be still'd.

L. _Fan._ Oh, what's the matter with my Love? what, do you mean to
murder him? oh, lead him instantly back to his Bed.

Sir _Pat._ Oh, oh, no, I'll lie here,--put me to bed, oh, I faint,--my
Chamber's possest with twenty thousand Evil Spirits.

L. _Fan._ Possest! what sickly Fancy's this?

Sir _Pat._ Ah, the House is beset, surrounded and confounded with
profane tinkling, with Popish Horn-Pipes, and Jesuitical Cymbals, more
Antichristian and Abominable than Organs, or Anthems.

_Nurse._ Yea verily, and surely it is the spawn of Cathedral Instruments
plaid on by Babylonish Minstrels, only to disturb the Brethren.

Sir _Pat._ Ay, 'tis so, call up my Servants, and let them be first
chastiz'd and then hang'd; accuse 'em for _French_ Papishes, that had a
design to fire the City, or any thing:--oh, I shall die--lead me gently
to this Bed.

L. _Fan._ To hinder him will discover all:--stay, Sir.--

Sir _Pat._ Hah, my Lady turn'd rebellious!--put me to Bed I say;--
[Throws himself forward to the Bed.] --hah--what's here?--what are
thou,--a Man,--hah, a Man, Treason! betray'd! my Bed's defil'd, my Lady
polluted, and I am cornuted; oh thou vile Serpent of my Bosom!
[She stands with her Face towards the Stage in signs of fear.

_Isab._ A Man, and in my virtuous Lady Mother's Chamber! how fortunate
was I to light on this discovery!

L. _Fan._ Well, Sir, since you have seen him, I beseech you for my sake,
Dear, pardon him this one time.
[Coakesing him.

Sir _Pat._ Th