 | The Siege and Surrender of Mons |  |
SCENE III.
Enter a large Procession of the Religious, the Host born under a Canopy by the Abbots Grimchi and Vaneuf, assisted by the Dominicans, &c. the chief of the Town following in due Order, with Wax Tapers in their hands making a very large Train—Durand, Ternon and Foquet bringing up the Reer—in their solemn March the Priests sing.Who have no Passions now but Love,
Behold our sad distressed Town,
And look with tender Pity down.
Look down upon our Matrons Fears,
Who daily to the Temple throng,
Your kindest pity we implore
Our wishes cannot hope for more,
'Tis pity pity we implore.
[The Procession goes off, manent Durand, Ternon and Foquet.
Foquet.
Ha ha ha ha ha—
Durand.
You'r merry Foquet, the Occasion pray you.
Foquet.
Have I not reason? when I see the two Abbots so very piously
assisting at a Devotion when their hearts are quite another way.
Durand.
How came you by this Intelligence, you are but a Lay-man, and
Gentlemen of their Character seldom make such their Confessors.
Foquet.
Come come Durand, and you Monsieur Ternon, off off with your
Disguises, and show your selves honest men—that is by interpretation
according to the Spanish Version—Rogues.
Ternon.
You amaze me for—
Foquet.
Nay never start Ternon, you and I with Durand, are all engaged
in one cause. See you this
(shews Gold)
Who for such a Sum would not Hang his Father, lye with his Mother, and
Crack his Sisters Maidenhead ha—?
Durand.
Come, come, I see you have found us out, and for my part
my Fortunes having been at Low Water-mark a long time, I thought
a little French Gold no very unacceptable Present considering my Circumstances.
Ternon.
Well then since we understand one another, let's consult the
chief Methods how to merit more of these Favours.
Foquet.
Our first chief Business must be to magnify the Glory's of the
French King in all Companys where we can do it safely; then that we
may be equally as much at ease under his Government as under the King
of Spain, who is at too great a distance to take Cognizance of the ill Administration
of his Officers.
Ternon.
I had a Letter t'other day from a Correspondence of mine
in England, who tells me that Gentlemen there lay Wagers like mad
that Mons will be in the French hands by such a time.—you know
these—
Enter a Rabble crying out Confusion to the French, Confusion to the French.
Rabble.
How now, who are you?
Ternon.
We Gentlemen, we are Citizens of Mons.
Rabble.
Are you for the French or no?
Foquet.
For the French, no, no? rot the Rogues, sink, burn and confound
'em—Heaven be Deaf to my Prayers.
[Aside.
Rabble.
Come come along with us, along with us.
Exeunt.
| The Siege and Surrender of Mons | |