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tered to death here, by the incessant attacks of a mighty colonel; he has besieged me.

Sir H. I hope your ladyship did not surrender though. Lure. No, no; but was forced to capitulate; but since you are come to raise the siege, we'll dance, and sing, and laugh.

Sir H. And love.

Lure. Would you marry me, sir Harry?

Sir H. Why, marriage is the devil!-But I will marry you.

Lure. Your word, sir, is not to be relied on; if a gentleman will forfeit his honour in dealings of business, we may reasonably suspect his fidelity in an amour.

Sir H. My honour in dealings of business! why, madam, I never had any business all my life.

Lure. Yes, sir Harry, I have heard a very odd story, and am sorry that a gentleman of your figure should undergo the scandal.

Sir H. Out with it, madam.

Lure. Why, the merchant, sir, that transmitted your bills of exchange to you in France, complains of some indirect and dishonourable dealings.

Sir H. Who, old Smuggler?

Lure. Ay, ay, you know him, I find.

Sir H. I have some reason, I think; why, the rogue has cheated me of above five hundred pounds within these three years.

Lure. 'Tis your business then to acquit yourself publicly; for he spreads the scandal every where. Sir H. Acquit myself publicly!-Here, sirrah.

Enter Servant.

My coach; I'll drive instantly into the city, and cane
the old villain round the Royal Exchange.
Lure. Why, he is in the house now, sir.
Sir H. What, in this house?

Lure. Ay, in the next room.

Sir H. Then, sirrah, lend me your cudgel.

Exit Servant.

Lure. Sir Harry, you won't raise a disturbance in my house?

Sir H. Disturbance, madam, no, no; I'll beat him with the temper of a philosopher. Here, Mrs. Parley, show me the gentleman. [Exit with Parley.

Lure. Now shall I get the old monster well beaten, and sir Harry pestered next term with bloodsheds, batteries, costs and damages, solicitors and attorneys; and if they don't teaze him out of his good humour, I'll never plot again.

[Exit.

SCENE V. Another Room in the same House.

Enter SMUGGLER.

Smug. Oh, this damn'd tide-waiter! A ship and cargo worth five thousand pounds! why, 'tis richly worth five hundred perjuries."

Enter SIR HARRY WILDAIR.

Sir H. Dear Mr. Alderman, I'm your most devoted and humble servant.

Smug. My best friend sir Harry, you're welcome to England.

Sir H. I'll assure you, sir, there's not a man in the king's dominions I am gladder to meet, dear, dear Mr. Alderman. [Bowing very low. Smug. O lord, sir, you travellers have the most obliging ways with

you.

Sir H. There is a business, Mr. Alderman, fallen out, which you may oblige me infinitely by-I am very sorry that I am forced to be troublesome; but necessity, Mr. Alderman.

Smug. Ay, sir, as you say, necessity-But upon my word, sir, I am very short of money at present, but

Sir H. That's not the matter, sir; I'm above an obligation that way; but the business is, I'm reduced to an indispensable necessity of being obliged to you for a beating-Here, take this cane.

Smug. A beating, sir Harry! ha, ha, ha! I beat a knight baronet! an alderman turn cudgel-player! ha, ha, ha!

Sir H. Upon my word, sir, you must beat me, or I'll beat you; take your choice.

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Smug. Pshaw! pshaw! you jest.

Sir H. Nay, 'tis sure as fate: so, alderman, I hope you'll pardon my curiosity. [Strikes him. Smug. Curiosity! Deuce take your curiosity, sir; what d'ye mean?

Sir H. Nothing at all; I'm but in jest, sir.

Smug. O, I can take any thing in jest! but a man might imagine by the smartness of the stroke, that you were in downright earnest.

Sir H. Not in the least, sir; [Strikes him] not in the least, indeed, sir.

Smug. Pray, good sir, no more of your jests, for they are the bluntest jests that ever I knew.

Sir H. [Strikes] I heartily beg you pardon, with all my heart, sir.

Smug. Pardon, sir! well, sir, that is satisfaction enough from a gentleman: but seriously now, if you pass any more of your jests upon me, I shall grow angry.

or two more.

Sir H. I humbly beg your permission to break one [Strikes him. Smug. O Lord, sir, you'll break my bones: Are you mad, sir? murder, felony, manslaughter! [Falls down. Sir H. Sir, I beg you ten thousand pardons; but I am absolutely compelled to't, upon my honour, sir: nothing can be more averse to my inclinations, than to jest with my honest, dear, loving, obliging friend, the alderman.

[Striking him all this while, Smuggler tumbles over and over, shakes out his Pocket-book on the floor; Lurewell enters, takes it up.

Lure. The old rogue's pocket-book, this may be of use. [Aside] O lord, sir Harry's murdering the poor old man

Smug. O dear madam, I was beaten in jest, till I am murdered in good earnest.

Lure. Well, well, I'll bring you off, seigneur-frap pez, frappez!

Smug. O! for charity's sake, madam, rescue a poor

citizen.

Lure. O you barbarous man! hold! hold! frappez plus rudement. Frappez! I wonder you are not ashamed. [Holding Sir H.] A poor reverend honest elder.-[Helps Smuggler up] It makes me weep to see him in this condition, poor man!-Now deuce take you, sir Harry-for not beating him harder. Well, my dear, you shall come at night, and I'll make you amends. [Here Sir Harry takes Snuff. Smug. Madam, I will have amends before I leave the place. Sir, how durst you use me thus?

Sir H. Sir?

Smug. Sir, I say that I will have satisfaction.

Sir H. With all my heart. [Throws Snuff in his Eyes. Smug. O! murder, blindness, fire! O madam, madam, get me some water! water, fire, water!

[Exit with Lurewell. Sir H. How pleasant is resenting an injury without passion! 'Tis the beauty of revenge.

Let statesmen plot, and under business groan,
And settling public quiet, lose their own;
I make the most of life, no hour mispend,
Pleasure's the mean, and pleasure is my end.
No spleen, no trouble shall my time destroy,
Life's but a span, I'll every inch enjoy.

[Exit.

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SCENE I. The Street.

Enter STANDARD and VIZARD.

Stand. I bring him word where she lodged! I the civillest rival in the world! "Tis impossible.

Viz. I shall urge it no further, sir. I only thought, sir, that my character in the world might add authority to my words without so many repetitions.

Stand. Pardon me, dear Vizard. Our belief struggles hard before it can be brought to yield to the disadvantage of what we love.-But what said sir Harry?

Viz. He pitied the poor credulous colonel, laughed heartily. Flew away with all the raptures of a bridegroom, repeating these lines,

A mistress ne'er can pall her lover's joys,

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Whose wit can whet, whene'er her beauty cloys. Stand. A mistress ne'er can pall! By all my wrongs I'm made their dupe. Vengeance! Vizard, you must carry a note for me to sir Harry.

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