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_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 your pardon, with all my heart, sir.
_Smug._ Pardon, sir! Well, sir, that is satisfaction enough from a gentleman. But, seriously, now, if you pa.s.s any more of your jests upon me, I shall grow angry.
_Sir H._ I humbly beg your permission to break one or two more.
[_Strikes him._
_Smug._ Oh, lord, sir, you'll break my bones! Are you mad, sir? Murder, felony, manslaughter! [SIR HARRY _knocks him down_.
_Sir H._ Sir, I beg you ten thousand pardons; but I am absolutely compelled to it, 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_.
_Enter_ LADY LUREWELL.
_Lady L._ Oh, lord! Sir Harry's murdering the poor old man.
_Smug._ Oh, dear madam, I was beaten in jest, till I am murdered in good earnest.
_Lady L._ Oh! you barbarous man!--Now the devil 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 into his Eyes._
_Smug._ Oh, murder! blindness! fire! Oh, madam, madam, get me some water. Water! fire! fire! water! [_Exit with_ LADY LUREWELL.
_Sir H._ How pleasant is resenting an injury without pa.s.sion! 'Tis the beauty of revenge.
No spleen, no trouble, shall my time destroy: Life's but a span, I'll ev'ry inch enjoy. [_Exit._
ACT THE THIRD.
SCENE I.
_The Street._
_Enter_ COLONEL STANDARD _and_ VIZARD.
_Colonel S._ I bring him word where she lodged? I the civilest rival in the world? 'Tis impossible.
_Vizard._ I shall urge it no farther, sir. I only thought, sir, that my character in the world might add authority to my words, without so many repet.i.tions.
_Colonel S._ 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?
_Vizard._ 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, Whose wit can whet, whene'er her beauty cloys.
_Colonel S._ A mistress ne'er can pall! By all my wrongs he wh.o.r.es her, and I am made their property.----Vengeance----Vizard, you must carry a note for me to Sir Harry.
_Vizard._ What, a challenge? I hope you don't design to fight?
_Colonel S._ What, wear the livery of my king, and pocket an affront?
'Twere an abuse to his sacred Majesty: a soldier's sword, Vizard, should start of itself, to redress its master's wrong.
_Vizard._ However, sir, I think it not proper for me to carry any such message between friends.
_Colonel S._ I have ne'er a servant here; what shall I do?
_Vizard._ There's Tom Errand, the porter, that plies at the Blue Posts, one who knows Sir Harry and his haunts very well; you may send a note by him.
_Colonel S._ Here, you, friend.
_Vizard._ I have now some business, and must take my leave; I would advise you, nevertheless, against this affair.
_Colonel S._ No whispering now, nor telling of friends, to prevent us.
He, that disappoints a man of an honourable revenge, may love him foolishly like a wife, but never value him as a friend.
_Vizard._ Nay, the devil take him, that parts you, say I. [_Exit._
_Enter_ TOM ERRAND.
_Tom._ Did your honour call porter?
_Colonel S._ Is your name Tom Errand?
_Tom._ People call me so, an't like your wors.h.i.+p.
_Colonel S._ D'ye know Sir Harry Wildair?
_Tom._ Ay, very well, sir; he's one of my best masters; many a round half crown have I had of his wors.h.i.+p; he's newly come home from France, sir.
_Colonel S._ Go to the next coffee-house, and wait for me.----Oh, woman, woman, how blessed is man, when favoured by your smiles, and how accursed when all those smiles are found but wanton baits to sooth us to destruction. [_Exeunt._
_Enter_ SIR H. WILDAIR, _and_ CLINCHER SENIOR, _following_.
_Clinch. sen._ Sir, sir, sir, having some business of importance to communicate to you, I would beg your attention to a trifling affair, that I would impart to your understanding.
