SCENE III.

_Another Apartment._

_Enter_ HOUNSLOW _and_ BAGSHOT, _with Swords drawn, dragging in_ LADY BOUNTIFUL _and_ DORINDA.

_Houns._ Come, come, your jewels, mistress.

_Bag._ Your keys, your keys, old gentlewoman.

_Enter_ AIMWELL.

_Aim._ Turn this way, villains; I durst engage an army in such a cause. [_He engages them both._

_Enter_ ARCHER _and_ MRS. SULLEN.

_Arch._ Hold! hold! my lord; every man his bird, pray.

[_They engage Man to Man; the Rogues are thrown down, and disarmed._

_Arch._ Shall we kill the rogues?

_Aim._ No, no; we'll bind them.

_Arch._ Ay, ay; here, madam, lend me your garter. [_To_ MRS. SULLEN, _who stands by him_.

_Mrs. Sul._ The devil's in this fellow; he fights, loves, and banters all in a breath: here's a rope, that the rogues brought with them, I suppose.

_Arch._ Right, right, the rogue's destiny, a rope to hang himself----Come, my lord,----this is but a scandalous sort of an office, [_Binding the_ ROGUES _together_.] if our adventure should end in this sort of hangmanwork; but I hope there is something in prospect that--

_Enter_ SCRUB.

Well, Scrub, have you secured your Tartar?

_Scrub._ Yes, sir, I left the priest and him disputing about religion.

_Aim._ And pray carry these gentlemen to reap the benefit of the controversy. [_Delivers the_ PRISONERS _to_ SCRUB, _who leads them out_.

_Mrs. Sul._ Pray, sister, how came my lord here?

_Dor._ And pray, how came the gentleman here?

_Mrs. Sul._ I'll tell you the greatest piece of villainy--[_They talk in dumb Show._

_Aim._ I fancy, Archer, you have been more successful in your adventure than the housebreakers.

_Arch._ No matter for my adventure, yours is the principal----Press her this minute to marry you,--now while she's hurried between the palpitation of her fear, and the joy of her deliverance, now while the tide of her spirits are at high-flood:----throw yourself at her feet, speak some romantic nonsense or other;--confound her senses, bear down her reason, and away with her:--The priest is now in the cellar, and dare not refuse to do the work.

_Aim._ But how shall I get off without being observed?

_Arch._ You a lover, and not find a way to get off!--Let me see.

_Aim._ You bleed, Archer.

_Arch._ 'Sdeath, I'm glad on't; this wound will do the business--I'll amuse the old lady and Mrs. Sullen about dressing my wound, while you carry off Dorinda.

_Lady B._ Gentlemen, could we understand how you would be gratified for the services----

_Arch._ Come, come, my lady, this is no time for compliments; I'm wounded, madam.

_Lady B. and Mrs. Sul._ How! wounded!

_Dor._ I hope, sir, you have received no hurt?

_Aim._ None but what you may cure---- [_Makes love in dumb Show._

_Lady B._ Let me see your arm, sir--I must have some powder sugar, to stop the blood----O me! an ugly gash; upon my word, sir, you must go into bed.

_Arch._ Ay, my lady, a bed would do very well----Madam, [_To_ MRS. SULLEN.] will you do me the favour to conduct me to a chamber?

_Lady B._ Do, do, daughter,----while I get the lint, and the probe, and plaister ready. [_Runs out one Way_; AIMWELL _carries off_ DORINDA _another_.

_Arch._ Come, madam, why don't you obey your mother's commands?

_Mrs. Sul._ How can you, after what is past, have the confidence to ask me?

_Arch._ And if you go to that, how can you, after what is past, have the confidence to deny me?----Was not this blood shed in your defence, and my life exposed for your protection?--Lookye, madam, I'm none of your romantic fools, that fight giants and monsters for nothing; my valour is downright Swiss; I am a soldier of fortune, and must be paid.

_Mrs. Sul._ 'Tis ungenerous in you, sir, to upbraid me with your services.

_Arch._ 'Tis ungenerous in you, madam, not to reward them.

_Mrs. Sul._ How! at the expense of my honour!

_Arch._ Honour! Can honour consist with ingratitude? If you would deal like a woman of honour, do like a man of honour: d'ye think I would deny you in such a case?

_Enter_ GIPSEY.

_Gip._ Madam, my lady ordered me to tell you, that your brother is below at the gate.

_Mrs. Sul._ My brother! Heavens be praised:--Sir, he shall thank you for your services; he has it in his power.

_Arch._ Who is your brother, madam?

_Mrs. Sul._ Sir Charles Freeman:----You'll excuse me, sir; I must go and receive him. [_Exit._

_Arch._ Sir Charles Freeman! 'Sdeath and hell!----My old acquaintance. Now, unless Aimwell has made good use of his time, all our fair machine goes souse into the sea, like an Eddistone. [_Exit._