HOw now Mr. Alder­man, what makes your Soule thus to Droope, your Speech methinks failes you, your Eyes are as Hollow as your Heart hath alwayes been, you seem to be as dejected as if the Executioner were about to doe his Office, and your Countenance is as Gashly as [...] Brethren that are turned Sur­ [...] of the rivers Thames [Page 4] whose Heads are Elevated upon London Bridge.

Ah Coll. Marten, This is no time to Iest in; can you Pray and Ex­postulate the reason, why our Palaces are turned into a Prison; our Noble Attendants, into Iaylors and his Sub-Officers; our Chaines of Gold into Fetters of Iron; our place as a Iudge upon the Bench, to be a Prisoner at the Bar, This methinks is a sad dispensa­tion, that the Grapes of Canaan should be thus sower, and our Glory so sudden­ly turned into shame.

Prethee Mr. Alderman don't disturb me with the repeti­tion of that thing called Prayers; the noise of it sounds in my Ear as dolefull as a passing Bell. But yet tell me what's the cause in your apprehension of these Afflictions which follow us as naturally as one Billow followes another in the unwearied Sea.

Ah Coll. Marten, I find your soule is not yet touch't with the sence of Blood, Innocent blood, Royall Blood; the Blood of Gods Anointed of his Vice­gerent here upon Earth; Blood that hath cryed aloud to Heaven, and this Blood God is making inquisition for; and we gave consent to the shedding thereof, we Dethron'd his Royall Per­son from his Power and Dignity; We Vsurp'd an Authority over him to take away his Life. And in a word the guilt hereof lyes so heavy upon my spirit, as that I cannot scrue or wind up my Soul higher then this sad dejection wherein you behold me.

Pish Alderman Titchburne, I'le tell you, had you still rode like a Jackanapes on Horseback as you did when you were Lord Maior of London; and had a few Red-Coats to have Levelled their Mus­quets against all that would not obey your commands, and had the punishing of Ale-house keepers that would not conforme to good [Page 6] Orders; and were you now again contriving a New market place for the Herb Women that former­ly sate in Cheapside; and were you again to be Dub'd one of Oliver Cromwells Knights, and be Honou­red with the Title of one of his Mushrome Lords. Or lastly were the Committee of Safety sitting againe, and you but entertained one of the Members thereof; you'd Cut off the King's Head a­gaine, you'd call the desire of a Personall Treaty with the King, a Trayterous Engagement; you'd betray the Councells of the City, and would be fit for any enterprise that might Establish or uphold the same.

Well Colonell Marten, this methink is not well done of you, to add Affliction to Affliction; the remembrance of each of these particulars Cuts a new Wound, and every thought thereof Torments my Soule with renewed Griefe.

Come then Mr. Alderman, let's Laugh away every thing that disturbs our Content, let's make Musick with the Gingling of our Chaines, and let us make our Fet­ters to keep a Noise in Tune; let us turne one of our Acts of Parlia­ment into Hopkins his Rhimes, and sing our selves into a better Tem­per. But what thinke you Mr. Alderman methinks we want a Girle to compleat the story.

Fie Fie is this Prison Dis­course, what hard hap had I to méet with such a Chamber-Mate; sure this adds to my former distempers, and Rei­terates my never to be pacifyed Grief: Oh that I had béen so happy as to have béen united to one in Prison who would Alternately have past away the time in opening a Text of Scripture, that we might have Sung a Psalme of Lamen­tation together; discourst of the World to come, and brought to our Minds the remembrance of those Torments, which [Page 8] some of our brethren now endure for ha­ving a Hand in the Blood of that just man; but I'le go Pray.

A Pox take your canting, what the Divel makes you disturb me in my rest; methings this whi­ning and drolling is not like pray­ing at all; pray Mr. Alderman talk your selfe, let me not hear so much as the sound of one of your words, for I told you before it goes against my Nature to hear any Prayers.

Truly Colonell Marten, you are very prophane, I thought we had all béen praying Saints that Cut off the Kings Head, and you methinks doe not speak the language of one.

A way I tell you with this discourse, there was not one person like a Saint in all that crew called the High Court of Justice, and truly if I had thought there had; [Page 9] you should not have found me there, for I promise you I doe not like such company; but come let's talke of what will become of us, is there any hopes of Escaping the Gallowes;

None that ever I can heare, only they say the King is mercifull.

I but they say the people are mad to have us out of the way, they are ever and anon crying out why are not those Rogues brought to Justice, some saying no Torment is bad enough for us, Hanging in Chaines, setting our Quarters upon the City Gates, and our heads upon London Bridge, they think it not punishment enough, They would have us buried a Live, Star­ved to Death; some say let their skinns be pulled over their Eares whilst they are living, and let them be hang'd up as Memento of ever­lasting [Page 10] shame, and as a warning piece to succeeding Ages how they meddle with the sacred institution of Kings and Princes.

Well so I were but out of the World, I would not much care which way I went, for it is Torment enough for me to live; do you not think it doth trouble me to be carried to the Tow­er when I was once Lieutenant thereof and to be a close Prisoner, where I com­manded the whole place my self, and to have one of my Brethren an Alderman of London now to be a Commander o­ver me; well if I be Reprieved it will be my punishment, I shall live like Tan­talus all my dayes; that is to say onely mockt with pleasure and delight.

Well Mr. Alderman for the present Good night, but pray hereafter, doe not whine out your Feigned stuffe, for say any thing but your prayers and I shall be glad to discourse with you; I think 'tis about sleeping time, though we [Page 11] shall be parted when we are carry­ed to another Prison, yet we shall meet at the Gallowes; or else our Heads may meet with our Brother Peters and the rest of our Brethren upon London Bridge.