Par. What d'ye think of the colonel, madam? I suppose his designs are honourable.

Lure. That man's a riddle; there's something of honour in his temper that pleases; I'm sure he loves me too, because he's soon jealous, and soon satisfied. But he's a man still. When I once tried his pulse about marriage, his blood ran as low as a coward's.He swore, indeed, that he loved me, but could not marry me, forsooth, because he was engaged elsewhere. So poor a pretence made me disdain his passion, which otherwise might have been uneasy to me. -But hang him, I have teased him enough-Besides, Parly, I begin to be tired of my revenge: but this buss and guinea I must maul once more. I'll hansel his woman's clothes for him. Go get me pen and ink; I must write to Vizard too.

Fortune, this once assist me as before:

Two such machines can never work in vain,

As thy propitious wheel, and my projecting brain.

[Exeunt.

ACT IV. SCENE I.

Covent Garden. WILDAIR and STANDARD meeting.

Standard.

I THOUGHT, Sir Harry, to have met you ere this in a more convenient place; but since my wrongs were

without ceremony, my revenge shall be so too. Draw, sir.

Wild. Draw, sir! What shall I draw?

Stand. Come, come, sir, I like your facetious humour well enough; it shews courage and unconcern. I know you brave; and therefore use you thus.Draw your sword.

Wild. Nay, to oblige you, I will draw; but the devil take me if I fight.-Perhaps, colonel, this is the prettiest blade you have seen.

Come, sir.

Stand. I doubt not but the arm is good; and therefore think both worth my resentment. Wild. But, pr'ythee, colonel, dost think that I am such a madman, as to send my soul to the devil and body to the wormsupon every fool's errand ?

[Aside.

Stand. I hope you're no coward, sir. Wild. Coward, sir! I have eight thousand pounds a year, sir.

Stand. You fought in Flanders, to my knowledge. Wild. Ay, for the same reason that I wore a red coat; because 'twas fashionable.

Stand. Sir, you fought a French count in Paris.

Wild. True, sir; but there was no danger of lands nor tenements: besides, he was a beau, like myself. Now you're a soldier, colonel, and fighting's your trade; and I think it downright madness to contend with any man in his profession.

Stand. Come, sir, no more dallying; I shall take

G

very unseemly methods, if you don't shew yourself a gentleman.

Wild. A gentleman! Why there again now. A gentleman! I tell you once more, colonel, that I am a baronet, and have eight thousand pounds a year. I can dance, sing, ride, fence, understand the languages Now I cann't conceive how running you through the body should contribute one jot more to my gentility. But pray, colonel, I had forgot to ask you, what's the quarrel ?

Stand. A woman, sir.

Wild. Then I put up my sword. Take her.
Stand. Sir, my honour's concerned.

Wild. Nay, if your honour be concerned with a woman, get it out of her hands as soon as you can.An honourable lover is the greatest slave in nature: some will say, the greatest fool. Come, come, colonel, this is something about the Lady Lurewell, I warrant; I can give you satisfaction in that affair.

Stand. Do so then immediately.

Wild. Put up your sword first; you know I dare fight but I had much rather make you a friend than an enemy. I can assure you, this lady will prove too hard for one of your temper. You have too much honour, too much in conscience, to be a favourite with the ladies.

Stand. I'm assured, sir, she never gave you any encouragement.

Wild. A man can never hear reason with a sword

in his hand. Sheath your weapon; and then if I don't satisfy you, sheath it in my body. Stand. Give me but demonstration of her granting you any favour, and it is enough.

Wild. Will you take my word?

Stand. Pardon me, sir, I cannot.

Wild. Will you believe your own eyes ?

Stand. 'Tis ten to one whether I shall or no; they have deceived me already.

Wild. That's hard-but some means I shall devise for your satisfaction—We must fly this place, else that cluster of mob will overwhelm us.

[Exeunt.

Enter Mob: Toм ERRAND'S Wife hurrying in CLINCHER Senior in ERRAND's Clothes.

Wife. Oh the villain, the rogue, he has murdered my husband. Ah, my poor Timothy ! [Crying.

Clin. sen. Dem your Timothy !-your husband has murdered me, woman; for he has carried away my fine Jubilee clothes.

"Wife. Ay, you cut-throat, have you not got his "clothes upon your back there? Neighbours, don't you know poor Timothy's coat and apron ?

66

Mob. Ay, ay, it is the same.

"1st Mob. What shall we do with him, neighbours? "2d Mob. We'll pull him in pieces.

"1st Mob. No, no; then we may be hang'd for

"" murder: but we'll drown him.

" Clin. sen. Ah, good people, pray don't drown me;

"for I never learned to swim in all my life. Ah, this "plaguy intriguing."

Mob. Away with him,―away with him to the Thames.

Clin. sen. Oh, if I had but my swimming girdle

now.

Enter Constable.

Const. Hold, neighbours, I command the peace. Wife. Oh, Mr. Constable, here's a rogue that has murdered my husband, and robbed him of his clothes.

Const. Murder and robbery !—Then he must be a gentleman.- -Hands off there ;-he must not be abused. Give an account of yourself. Are you a gentleman?

Clin. sen. No, sir, I'm a beau.

Const. A beau. Then you have killed nobody, I'm persuaded. How came you by these clothes, sir?

Clin. sen. You must know, sir, that walking along, sir, I don't know how, sir, I cann't tell where, sir, and so the porter and I changed clothes, sir.

Const. Very well. The man speaks reason, and like a gentleman.

Wife. But pray, Mr. Constable, ask him how he changed clothes with him.

Const. Silence, woman, and don't disturb the court. Well, sir, how did you change clothes?

Clin. sen. Why, sir, he pulled off my coat, and I drew off his so I put on his coat, and he put on

mine.