A DIALOGUE BETWEEN Duke LAUDERDALE, AND THE LORD DANBY.  D. 
GReat Sir, I cannot but congratulate  
The just Submission of your stubborn Fate;  
Which to your Honour hath a Tyrant been:  
But now she sees her Folly and her Sin.  
Still may she prove most constant unto you,  
And always pay what to your Grace is due.  L. 
Dear Sir, for nought can I commend my Fate,  
But that she'th made me happy in a Mate.  
And such I'll prove, even in Extremity,  
Since we are Brothers in Iniquity.  D. 
My Lord, you very much mistake the Word.  
We were so once: to that I do accord.  
But now our Pardons for our sins are Sealed,  
I think the Gild is justly then Repealed.  
Though we were covered over with Clouds of Sin,  
They're vanished now, and all our fears therein.  
Now dare we our Protection claim as Right  
Of Charles our King; who surely will, in spite  
Of all our Foes, resolve to set us free:  
Nor will he lose that Right of Majesty.  
His Royal Word is past, we need not doubt;  
His Honour will take care to make it out.  L. 
Right Tom; and, by my Soul, I'll never fear  
Before th'insulting Commons to appear,  
And let them but affront me if they dare.  
For all their humming noise, I'll make them know,  
I'll sit above when they shan't sit below.  
There will I still with Courage vindicate  
Thy Honour, and subvert the unjust Hate  
Of all thy Foes: nor shall they dare pretend  
To say thou art not King and Country's Friend.  D. 
Pox on them; Let them go for a dam'd Crew,  
Whilst we with Craft their Ruin do pursue.  
Let them vote on, and we will still devise  
To make them all a burning Sacrifice  
To him, 'gainst whom 've made so many Lies.  
My drooping Soul transported is to think,  
When he doth rise, how all these Rogues will sink.  
With Vengeance we'll pursue them in Retreat:  
We'll hash them quick, and let our Dogs them eat.  
For Heretics we'll damn them whilst alive;  
And then to Hell in Flocks we will them drive.  L. 
Thy Courage bold I cannot but commend,  
For sure he's both our worthy Duke and Friend.  
Let's not despair, but briskly carry on  
The Glorious Work we have so well begun.  
Let's then once more our Treasons all repeat,  
And leave the Lovely Duchess then to treat  
For new Pardons; to whom we need not fear,  
The King will lend a gracious heart and ear.  
Thou knowst how much she is obliged to thee,  
Nor do I doubt but she our Friend will be.  D. 
Thy Counsel bravely elevates my Soul:  
We'll practise Treason still without Control.  
But that His Majesty shall ne'er believe;  
Or if he do, he quickly shall forgive:  
My Duchess shall so all his Senses charm,  
He never shall believe we'll do him harm.  L. 
By my Soul, Man, she's a most powerful Spell;  
Were't not for her, we'd surely been in Hell.  
She is the strongest Pillar of our Hope;  
The surest Friend to our brave Plot and Pope.  
She is all Power, she is all Command:  
By her Assistance we'll betray this Land,  D. 
Much Honour to her Goddesship is due;  
But I'd saved her the labour, Sir, and you,  
Had my Army, filled with lusty Fellows,  
Not yet been disbanded by the Jealous  
And mistrustful Parliament, Pox on 'em:  
Presumptuous Fops, to take that Act upon 'em.  
But let that pass; e'er long they'll surely find,  
They'd better been more Loyal and more Kind.  L. 
Saved me the Labour, Sir? What do you mean?  
I never grudged my Labour or my Pain.  
You know I had ten thousand Men at Call,  
To join with you to work these Nations Fall.  
If you compare our Actions in this Plot,  
You'll find I come not short of you one Jot.  
What's all the noise the Rebels made of late  
In Scotland? Did not I it all create?  
Was it not on my Counsel first resolved,  
The Old New Parliament should be dissolved?  
Or we had both in Ruin been involved?  D. 
My Lord, all this and more I do allow,  
And do my Faith to my Experience owe.  
I ne'er meant to detract from your Just Fame;  
But to my death I'll still maintain the same,  
You are a drudging Rebel; and, by Jove,  
I'll ne'er forsake you while I stand or move.  
But now, My Lord, I feel myself not well;  
I therefore kiss your hand, and bid farewell.  
FINIS.