ACT V SCENE III

_Scrub._ [_Kneeling._] O pray, sir, spare all I have, and take my life.

_Mrs. Sul._ [_Holding_ ARCHER'S _Hand_.] What does the fellow mean?

_Scrub._ O, madam, down upon your knees, your marrowbones----he's one of them.

_Arch._ Of whom?

_Scrub._ One of the rogues----I beg your pardon, one of the honest gentlemen, that just now are broke into the house.

_Arch._ How!

_Mrs. Sul._ I hope you did not come to rob me?

_Arch._ Indeed I did, madam, but I would have taken nothing but what you might very well have spared; but your crying, Thieves, has waked this dreaming fool, and so he takes them for granted.

_Scrub._ Granted! 'tis granted, sir; take all we have.

_Mrs. Sul._ The fellow looks as if he were broke out of Bedlam.

_Scrub._ Oons, madam, they're broke into the house with fire and sword; I saw them, heard them, they'll be here this minute.

_Arch._ What! thieves!

_Scrub._ Under favour, sir, I think so.

_Mrs. Sul._ What shall we do, sir?

_Arch._ Madam, I wish your ladyship a good night.

_Mrs. Sul._ Will you leave me?

_Arch._ Leave you! lord, madam, did not you command me to begone just now, upon pain of your immortal hatred.

_Mrs. Sul._ Nay, but pray, sir---- [_Takes hold of him._

_Arch._ Ha! ha! ha! now comes my turn to be ravished--You see now, madam, you must use men one way or other; but take this by the way, good madam, that none but a fool will give you the benefit of his courage, unless you'll take his love along with it--How are they armed, friend?

_Scrub._ With sword and pistol, sir. [_He gets under the Table._

_Arch._ Hush!----I see a dark lanthorn coming through the gallery----Madam, be assured I will protect you, or lose my life.

_Mrs. Sul._ Your life! no, sir, they can rob me of nothing that I value half so much; therefore now, sir, let me entreat you to begone.

_Arch._ No, madam, I'll consult my own safety, for the sake of yours; I'll work by stratagem: have you courage enough to stand the appearance of them?

_Mrs. Sul._ Yes, yes; since I have escaped your hands, I can face any thing.

_Arch._ Come hither, brother Scrub; don't you know me?

_Scrub._ Eh! my dear brother, let me kiss thee! [_Kisses_ ARCHER.

_Arch._ This way----Here---- [ARCHER _and_ SCRUB _hide_.

_Enter_ GIBBET, _with a dark Lanthorn in one Hand, and a Pistol in the other_.

_Gib._ Ay, ay, this is the chamber, and the lady alone.

_Mrs. Sul._ Who are you, sir? What would you have? D'ye come to rob me?

_Gib._ Rob you! alack a day, madam, I'm only a younger brother, madam; and so, madam, if you make a noise, I'll shoot you through the head: but don't be afraid, madam. [_Laying his Lanthorn and Pistol upon the Table._] These rings, madam; don't be concerned, madam; I have a profound respect for you, madam; your keys, madam; don't be frighted, madam; I'm the most of a gentleman. [_Searching her Pockets._] This necklace, madam; I never was rude to any lady! I have a veneration--for this necklace.

[_Here_ ARCHER, _having come round, and seized the Pistol, takes_ GIBBET _by the Collar, trips up his Heels, and claps the Pistol to his Breast_.

_Arch._ Hold, profane villain, and take the reward of thy sacrilege.

_Gib._ Oh! pray, sir, don't kill me; I an't prepared.

_Arch._ How many is there of them, Scrub?

_Scrub._ Five and forty, sir.

_Arch._ Then I must kill the villain, to have him out of the way.

_Gib._ Hold! hold! sir; we are but three, upon my honour.

_Arch._ Scrub, will you undertake to secure him?

_Scrub._ Not I, sir; kill him, kill him!

_Arch._ Run to Gipsey's chamber; there you'll find the doctor; bring him hither presently. [_Exit_ SCRUB, _running_.] Come, rogue, if you have a short prayer, say it.

_Gib._ Sir, I have no prayer at all; the government has provided a chaplain to say prayers for us on these occasions.

_Mrs. Sul._ Pray, sir, don't kill him: You fright me as much as him.

_Arch._ The dog shall die, madam, for being the occasion of my disappointment.--Sirrah, this moment is your last.

_Gib._ Sir, I'll give you two hundred pounds to spare my life.

_Arch._ Have you no more, rascal?

_Gib._ Yes, sir, I can command four hundred; but I must reserve two of them to save my life at the sessions.

_Enter_ SCRUB _and_ FOIGARD.

_Arch._ Here, doctor: I suppose Scrub and you, between you, may manage him:----Lay hold of him. [FOIGARD _lays hold of_ GIBBET.

_Gib._ What! turned over to the priest already----Lookye, doctor, you come before your time; I an't condemned yet, I thank ye.

_Foig._ Come, my dear joy, I vil secure your body and your shoul too; I will make you a good catholic, and give you an absolution.

_Gib._ Absolution! Can you procure me a pardon, doctor?

_Foig._ No, joy.----

_Gib._ Then you and your absolution may go to the devil.

_Arch._ Convey him into the cellar, there bind him:--Take the pistol, and if he offers to resist, shoot him through the head,--and come back to us with all the speed you can.

_Scrub._ Ay, ay; come, doctor, do you hold him fast, and I'll guard him. [_Exeunt_ SCRUB, GIBBET, _and_ FOIGARD.

_Mrs. Sul._ But how came the doctor?

_Arch._ In short, madam----[_Shrieking without._] 'Sdeath! the rogues are at work with the other ladies:--I'm vexed I parted with the pistol; but I must fly to their assistance--Will you stay here, madam, or venture yourself with me?

_Mrs. Sul._ Oh, with you, dear sir, with you. [_Takes him by the Arm, and exeunt._