Zel. One mother bore us at a birth,
Her name was Zeal before she fell;
No fairer nymph in heaven or earth,
’Till saintship taught her to rebel: 
But losing fame,
And changing name,
She’s now the Good Old Cause in hell.

Plu. Dear pledges of a flame not yet forgot, Say, what on earth has been your lot?

Dem. and Zel. The wealth of Albion’s isle was ours, Augusta stooped with all her stately towers.

Dem. Democracy kept nobles under.

Zel. Zeal from the pulpit roared like thunder.

Dem. I trampled on the state.

Zel. I lorded o’er the gown.

Dem. and Zel. We both in triumph sate,
Usurpers of the crown. 
But oh, prodigious turn of fate! 
Heaven controuling,
Sent us rolling, rolling down.

Plu. I wondered how of late our Acherontic shore
Grew thin, and hell unpeopled of her store;
Charon, for want of use, forgot his oar. 
The souls of bodies dead flew all sublime,
And hither none returned to purge a crime: 
But now I see, since Albion is restored,
Death has no business, nor the vengeful sword. 
  ’Tis too, too much that here I lie
  From glorious empire hurled;
  By Jove excluded from the sky;
  By Albion from the world.

Dem. Were common-wealth restored again, Thou shouldst have millions of the slain To fill thy dark abode.

Zel. For he a race of rebels sends,
And Zeal the path of heaven pretends,
But still mistakes the road.

Plu. My labouring thought
At length hath wrought
A bravely bold design,
In which you both shall join. 
In borrowed shapes to earth return;
Thou, Common-wealth, a Patriot seem,
Thou, Zeal, like true Religion burn,
To gain the giddy crowd’s esteem.—­
Alecto, thou to fair Augusta go,
And all thy snakes into her bosom throw.

Dem. Spare some, to fling
Where they may sting
The breast of Albion’s king.

Zel. Let jealousies so well be mixed, That great Albanius be unfixed.

Plu. Forbear your vain attempts, forbear: 
Hell can have no admittance there;
The people’s fear will serve as well,
Make him suspected, them rebel.

Zel. You’ve all forgot
To forge a plot,
In seeming care of Albion’s life;
Inspire the crowd
With clamours loud,
To involve his brother and his wife.

Alec. Take, of a thousand souls at thy command,
The basest, blackest of the Stygian band,
One, that will swear to all they can invent,
So thoroughly damned, that he can ne’er repent: 
One, often sent to earth,
And still at every birth
He took a deeper stain: 
One, that in Adam’s time was Cain;
One, that was burnt in Sodom’s flame,
For crimes even here too black to name: 
One, who through every form of ill has run: 
One, who in Naboth’s days was Belial’s son;
One, who has gained a body fit for sin;
Where all his crimes
Of former times
Lie crowded in a skin[2].