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Acres. Faith! I have followed Cupid's Jack-aLantern, and find myself in a quagmire at last. -In short, I have been very ill-ufed, Sir Lucius. -I don't choose to mention names, but look on me as on a very ill-ufed gentleman.

Sir Luc. Pray what is the cafe ?—I ask no

names.

Acres. Mark me, Sir Lucius, I fall as deep as need be in love with a young lady-her friends take my part-I follow her to Bath-fend word of my arrival; and receive answer, that the lady is to be otherwife difpofed of.-This, Sir Lucius, I call being ill-ufed.

Sir Luc. Very ill, upon my confcience.-Pray, can you divine the cause of it?

Acres. Why, there's the matter: fhe has another lover, one Beverley, who, I am told, is now in Bath.-Odds flanders and lies! he must be at the bottom of it.

Sir Luc. A rival in the case, is there?-and you think he has fupplanted you unfairly.

Acres. Unfairly! to be fure he has. He never could have done it fairly.

Sir Luc. Then fure you know what is to be done!

Acres. Not I, upon my foul!

Sir Luc. We wear no fwords here, but you understand me?

Acres. What! fight him!

Sir Luc. Aye, to be fure: what can I mean elfe? Acres. But he has given me no provocation.

Sir Luc. Now, I think he has given you the greateft provocation in the world. Can a man commit a more heinous offence against another than to fall in love with the fame woman? O, by my foul, it is the most unpardonable breach of friendship.

Acres. Breach of friendship! Aye, aye; but I

have no acquaintance with this man. faw him in my life.

I never

Sir Luc. That's no argument at all-he has the lefs right then to take fuch a liberty.

Acres. Gad that's true-I grow full of anger, Sir Lucius!—I fire apace! Odds hilts and blades; I find a man may have a deal of valour in him, and not know it! But couldn't I contrive to have a little right of my fide?

Sir Luc. What the Devil fignifies right, when your honour is concerned? Do you think, Achilles or my little Alexander the Great ever inquired where the right lay? No, by my foul, they drew their broad-fwords, and left the lazy fons of peace to fettle the juftice of it.

Acres. Your words are a grenadier's march to my heart! I believe courage must be catching! -I certainly do feel a kind of valour rifing as it were a kind of courage, as I may fay-. Odds flints, pans, and triggers! I'll challenge him directly.

Sir Luc. Ah, my little friend! if I had Blunder, bufs-Hall here--I could fhew you a range of anceftry, in the O'Trigger line, that would furnish the new room; every one of whom had killed his man! For though the manfion-house and dirty acres have flipt through my fingers, I thank Heav'n our honour and the family-pictures are as fresh as ever.

Acres. O, Sir Lucius! I have had ancestors too!-every man of 'em colonel or captain in the militia!Odds balls and barrels! fay no more -I'm brac'd for it.The thunder of your words has foured the milk of human kindness in my breast! Z ds! as the man in the play fays, "I could do fuch deeds"

Sir Luc. Come, come, there must be no paffion at all in the cafe-these things fhould always be done civilly.

I.

Acres.

1

Acres. I must be in a paffion, Sir Luciusmust be in a rage-Dear Sir Lucius, let me be love me.-Come, here's pen

if you

in a rage, and paper. (Sits down to write.) I would the ink were red!-Indite, I fay indite! -How fhall I begin? Odds bullets and blades! I'll write a good bold hand, however.

Sir Luc. Pray compofe yourself.

Acres. Come-now, fhall I begin with an oath? Do, Sir Lucius, let me begin with a damme. Sir Luc. Pho! pho! do the thing decently, and like a Chriftian. Begin now" SirAcres. That's too civil by half.

"Sir-

Sir Luc. "To prevent the confufion that might arife."

Acres. Well

Sir Luc. "From our both addreffing the fame lady."

Acres. Aye-there's the reafon-"fame lady" -Well

Sir Luc. "I fhall expect the bonour of your company"

Acres. Z-ds! I'm not asking him to dinner.
Sir Luc. Pray be easy.

Acres. Well then, "honour of your company"
Sir Luc. "To fettle our pretenfions."

Acres. Well.

Sir Luc. Let me fee, aye, King's Mead-field will do" in King's Mead-fields."

Acres. So that's done. Well, I'll fold it up presently; my own crest-a hand and dagger fhall be the feal.

Sir Luc. You fee now this little explanation will put a stop at once to all confufion or mifunderftanding that might arife between you.

Acres. Aye, we fight to prevent any mifunderftanding.

Sir Luc. Now, I'll leave you to fix your own time. Take my advice, and you'll decide it this

6

evening

evening if you can; then let the worst come of it, 'twill be off your mind to-morrow.

Acres. Very true.

Sir Luc. So I fhall fee nothing more of you, unless it be by letter, till the evening. I would do myself the honour to carry your meffage; but, to tell you a fecret, I believe I fhall have just fuch another affair on my own hands. There is a gay captain here, who put a jeft on me lately, at the expence of my country, and I only want to fall in with the gentleman, to call him out.

Acres. By my valour, I fhould like to fee you fight firft! Odds life! I fhould like to fee you kill him, if it was only to get a little leffon.

Sir Luc. I fhall be very proud of inftructing you. Well for the prefent-but remember now, when you meet your antagonist, do every thing in a mild and agreeable manner. Let your courage be as keen, but at the fame time as polished as your fwerd.

[Exeunt feverally.

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ACT IV.

SCENE

ACRES'S Lodgings.

ACRES and DAVID.

THE
Tde no

I.

David. THEN, by the Mafs, Sir! I would do no fuch thing-ne'er a Sir Lucius O'Trigger in the kingdom fhould make me fight, when I wa'n't fo minded. Oons! what will the old lady fay, when she hears o't!

Acres. Ah! David, if you had heard Sir Lucius !-Odds sparks and flames! he would have rous'd your valour.

David. Not he, indeed. I hates fuch bloodthirsty cormorants. Look'ee, Mafter, if you'd wanted a bout at boxing, quarter-staff, or fhortftaff, I should never be the man to bid you cry off: But for your curft fharps and fnaps, I never knew any good come of 'em.

Acres. But my honour, David, my honour! I must be very careful of my honour.

David. Aye, by the Mafs! and I would be very careful of it; and I think in return my honour couldn't do lefs than to be very careful of me.

Acres. Odds blades! David, no gentleman will ever rifk the lofs of his honour!

David. I fay then, it would be but civil in bonour never to rifk the lofs of a gentleman. Look'ee, Mafter, this honour feems to me to be a marvellous falfe friend: aye, truly, a very courtier-like fervant.-Put the cafe, I was a gentleman (which, thank God, no one can fay of me); well-my honour makes me quarrel with another gentleman of my acquaintance.-So-we fight. (Pleafant

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