SCENE II.-The South Parade.

Enter CAPTAIN Absolute, putting his sword under his great-coat.

Abs. A sword seen in the streets of Bath would raise as great an alarm as a mad dog.-How provoking this is in Faulkland!-never punctual! I shall be obliged to go without him at last.-Oh, the devil! here's Sir Anthony ! how shall I escape him?

[Muffles up his face, and takes a circle to go off.

Enter SIR ANTHONY Absolute.

Sir Anth. How one may be deceived at a little distance! Only that I see he don't know me, I could have sworn that was Jack!-Hey! Gad's life! it is.-Why, Jack, what are you afraid of? hey-sure I'm right. Why, Jack, Jack Absolute ! [Goes up to him.

Abs. Really, sir, you have the advantage of me:-I don't remember ever to have had the honour-my name is Saunderson, at your service.

Sir Anth. Sir, I beg your pardon-I took you-hey?— why, zounds! it is-Stay-[Looks up to his face.] So, so --your humble servant, Mr. Saunderson! Why, you scoundrel, what tricks are you after now?

Abs. Oh, a joke, sir, a joke! I came here on purpose to look for you, sir.

Sir Anth. You did! well, I am glad you were so lucky: --but what are you muffled up so for?-what's this for? -hey?

Abs. 'Tis cool, sir, isn't it?—rather chilly somehow :but I shall be late-I have a particular engagement.

Sir Anth. Stay !-Why, I thought you were looking for me?-Pray, Jack, where is't you are going?

Abs. Going, sir?

Sir Anth. Ay, where are you going?

Abs. Where am I going?

Sir Anth. You unmannerly puppy!

Abs. I was going, sir, to-to-to-to Lydia-sir, to Lydia-to make matters up if I could; and I was looking for you, sir, to-to

Sir Anth. To go with you, I suppose.-Well, come

along.

Abs. Oh! zounds! no, sir, not for the world!—I wished to meet with you, sir,-to-to-to-You find it cool, I'm sure, sir-you'd better not stay out.

Sir Anth. Cool !—not at all.—Well, Jack-and what will you say to Lydia?

Abs. Oh, sir, beg her pardon, humour her-promise and vow but I detain you, sir-consider the cold air on your gout.

Sir Anth. Oh, not at all!—not at all! I'm in no hurry. -Ah! Jack, you youngsters, when once you are wounded here [Putting his hand to CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE's breast.] Hey! what the deuce have you got here?

Abs. Nothing, sir-nothing.

Sir Anth. What's this?-here's something damned hard. Abs. Oh, trinkets, sir! trinkets!—a bauble for Lydia. Sir Anth. Nay, let me see your taste.-[Pulls his coat open, the sword falls.] Trinkets! a bauble for Lydia !— Zounds! sirrah, you are not going to cut her throat, are you?

Abs. Ha! ha! ha!-I thought it would divert you, sir, though I didn't mean to tell you till afterwards.

Sir Anth. You didn't?-Yes, this is a very diverting trinket, truly!

Abs. Sir, I'll explain to you.-You know, sir, Lydia is romantic, devilish romantic, and very absurd of course: now, sir, I intend, if she refuses to forgive me, to unsheath this sword, and swear-I'll fall upon its point, and expire at her feet!

Sir Anth. Fall upon a fiddlestick's end!-why, I suppose it is the very thing that would please her.-Get along, you fool!

Abs. Well, sir, you shall hear of my success-you shall hear.-O Lydia!-forgive me, or this pointed steelsays I.

Sir Anth. O, booby! stay away and welcome—says she. -Get along! and damn your trinkets!

[Exit CAPTAIN Absolute.

Enter DAVID, running.

Dav. Stop him! stop him! Murder! Thief! Fire!

-Stop fire! Stop fire !-O Sir Anthony-call! call! bid'm stop! Murder! Fire!

Sir Anth. Fire! Murder !-Where?

Dav. Oons! he's out of sight! and I'm out of breath for my part! O Sir Anthony, why didn't you stop him? why didn't you stop him?

Sir Anth. Zounds! the fellow's mad!-Stop whom? stop Jack?

Dav. Ay, the captain, sir!-there's murder and slaughter

Sir Anth. Murder!

Dav. Ay, please you, Sir Anthony, there's all kinds of murder, all sorts of slaughter to be seen in the fields: there's fighting going on, sir-bloody sword-and-gun fighting!

Sir Anth. Who are going to fight, dunce?

Dav. Everybody that I know of, Sir Anthony :-everybody is going to fight, my poor master, Sir Lucius O'Trigger, your son, the captain

Sir Anth. Oh, the dog! I see his tricks.-Do you know the place?

Dav. King's-Mead-Fields.

Sir Anth. You know the way?

Dav. Not an inch; but I'll call the mayor-aldermen— constables-churchwardens-and beadles-we can't be too many to part them.

Sir Anth. Come along-give me your shoulder! we'll get assistance as we go-the lying villain !—Well, I shall be in such a frenzy!-So-this was the history of his trinkets! I'll bauble him! [Exeunt.

SCENE III.-King's-Mead-Fields.

Enter SIR LUCIUS O'TRIGGER and ACRES, with pistols.

Acres. By my valour! then, Sir Lucius, forty yards is a good distance. Odds levels and aims !-I say it is a good distance.

Sir Luc. Is it for muskets or small field-pieces? Upon my conscience, Mr. Acres, you must leave those things to me.-Stay now-I'll show you.-[Measures paces along the

stage.] There now, that is a very pretty distance- -a pretty gentleman's distance.

Acres. Zounds! we might as well fight in a sentry-box! I tell you, Sir Lucius, the farther he is off, the cooler I shall take my aim.

Sir Luc. Faith! then I suppose you would aim at him best of all if he was out of sight!

Acres. No, Sir Lucius; but I should think forty or eight and thirty yards

Sir Luc. Pho! pho! nonsense! three or four feet between the mouths of your pistols is as good as a mile.

Acres. Odds bullets, no!-by my valour! there is no merit in killing him so near; do, my dear Sir Lucius, let me bring him down at a long shot—a long shot, Sir Lucius, if you love me.

Sir Luc. Well, the gentleman's friend and I must settle that. But tell me now, Mr. Acres, in case of an accident, is there any little will or commission I could execute for you? Acres. I am much obliged to you, Sir Lucius, but I don't understand

Sir Luc. Why, you may think there's no being shot at without a little risk-and if an unlucky bullet should carry a quietus with it-I say it will be no time then to be bothering you about family matters.

Acres. A quietus !

Sir Luc. For instance, now- -if that should be the case -would you choose to be pickled and sent home?-or would it be the same to you to lie here in the Abbey? I'm told there is very snug lying in the Abbey.

Acres. Pickled !-Snug lying in the Abbey !--Odds tremors! Sir Lucius, don't talk so!

Sir Luc. I suppose, Mr. Acres, you never were engaged in an affair of this kind before?

Acres. No, Sir Lucius, never before.

Sir Luc. Ah! that's a pity!-there's nothing like being used to a thing. Pray now, how would you receive the gentleman's shot?

Acres. Odds files !-I've practised that-there, Sir Lucius-there. [Puts himself in an attitude.] A side-front, hey? Odd! I'll make myself small enough? I'll stand edgeways.

Sir Luc. Now-you're quite out-for if you stand so when I take my aim[Levelling at him.

Acres. Zounds! Sir Lucius are you sure it is not cocked?

Sir Luc. Never fear.

Acres. But-but-you don't know-it may go off of its own head!

Sir Luc. Pho! be easy.-Well, now if I hit you in the body, my bullet has a double chance-for if it misses a vital part of your right side, 'twill be very hard if it don't succeed on the left!

Acres. A vital part.

Sir Luc. But, there-fix yourself so [Placing him]—let him see the broad-side of your full front-there-now a ball or two may pass clean through your body, and never do any harm at all.

Acres. Clean through me!—a ball or two clean through me!

Sir Luc. Ay-may they-and it is much the genteelest attitude into the bargain.

Acres. Look'ee! Sir Lucius-I'd just as lieve be shot in an awkward posture as a genteel one; so, by my valour! I will stand edgeways.

Sir Luc. [Looking at his watch.] Sure they don't mean to disappoint us-Hah!-no, faith-I think I see them coming.

Acres. Hey!-what!-coming!

Sir Luc. Ay.-Who are those yonder getting over the stile?

Acres. There are two of them indeed!-well-let them come-hey, Sir Lucius !—we—we—we-we-won't run. Sir Luc. Run!

Acres. No I say we won't run, by my valour!

Sir Luc. What the devil's the matter with you?

Acres. Nothing-nothing-my dear friend-my dear Sir Lucius-but I-I-I don't feel quite so bold, somehow, as I did.

Sir Luc. O fy!-consider your honour.

Acres. Ay-true-my honour. Do, Sir Lucius, edge in a word or two every now and then about my honour. Sir Luc. Well, here they're coming.

[Looking. Acres. Sir Lucius-if I wa'n't with you, I should almost think I was afraid.—If my valour should leave me! Valour will come and go.

Sir Luc. Then pray keep it fast, while you have it.