SCENE I.

_Covent Garden._

_Enter_ SIR H. WILDAIR _and_ COLONEL STANDARD, _meeting_.

_Colonel S._ I thought, Sir Harry, to have met you ere this in a more convenient place; but since my wrongs were without ceremony, my revenge shall be so too.--Draw, sir.

_Sir H._ Draw, sir! What shall I draw?

_Colonel S._ Come, come, sir, I like your facetious humour well enough; it shows courage and unconcern. I know you brave, and therefore use you thus. Draw your sword.

_Sir H._ Nay, to oblige you, I will draw; but the devil take me if I fight.--Perhaps, colonel, this is the prettiest blade you have seen.

_Colonel S._ I doubt not but the arm is good; and therefore think both worth my resentment. Come, sir.

_Sir H._ But, pr'ythee, colonel, dost think that I am such a madman, as to send my soul to the devil and body to the worms--upon every fool's errand? [_Aside._

_Colonel S._ I hope you're no coward, sir.

_Sir H._ Coward, sir! I have eight thousand pounds a year, sir.

_Colonel S._ You fought in the army, to my knowledge.

_Sir H._ Ay, for the same reason that I wore a red coat; because 'twas fashionable.

_Colonel S._ Sir, you fought a French count in Paris.

_Sir H._ True, sir, he was a beau, like myself. Now you're a soldier, colonel, and fighting's your trade; and I think it downright madness to contend with any man in his profession.

_Colonel S._ Come, sir, no more dallying; I shall take very unseemly methods, if you don't show yourself a gentleman.

_Sir H._ A gentleman! Why, there again, now. A gentleman! I tell you once more, colonel, that I am a baronet, and have eight thousand pounds a year. I can dance, sing, ride, fence, understand the languages--Now I can't conceive how running you through the body should contribute one jot more to my gentility. But pray, colonel, I had forgot to ask you, what's the quarrel?

_Colonel S._ A woman, sir.

_Sir H._ Then I put up my sword. Take her.

_Colonel S._ Sir, my honour's concerned.

_Sir H._ Nay, if your honour be concerned with a woman, get it out of her hands as soon as you can.--An honourable lover is the greatest slave in nature: some will say, the greatest fool. Come, come, colonel, this is something about the Lady Lurewell, I warrant; I can give you satisfaction in that affair.

_Colonel S._ Do so then immediately.

_Sir H._ Put up your sword first; you know I dare fight, but I had much rather make you a friend than an enemy. I can assure you this lady will prove too hard for one of your temper. You have too much honour, too much in conscience, to be a favourite with the ladies.

_Colonel S._ I'm assured, sir, she never gave you any encouragement.

_Sir H._ A man can never hear reason with his sword in his hand. Sheath your weapon; and then, if I don't satisfy you, sheath it in my body.

_Colonel S._ Give me but demonstration of her granting you any favour, and it is enough.

_Sir H._ Will you take my word?

_Colonel S._ Pardon me, sir, I cannot.

_Sir H._ Will you believe your own eyes?

_Colonel S._ 'Tis ten to one whether I shall or no; they have deceived me already.

_Sir H._ That's hard--but some means I shall devise for your satisfaction--[_Noise._]--We must fly this place, else that cluster of mob will overwhelm us. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ MOB, TOM ERRAND'S _Wife hurrying in_ CLINCHER SENIOR _in_ ERRAND'S _Clothes_.

_Wife._ Oh! the villain, the rogue, he has murdered my husband. Ah, my poor Timothy! [_Crying._

_Clinch. sen._ Dem your Timothy!--your husband has murdered me, woman; for he has carried away my fine Jubilee clothes.

_Mob._ Away with him----away with him to the Thames.

_Clinch. sen._ Oh, if I had but my swimming girdle now!

_Enter_ CONSTABLE.

_Const._ Hold, neighbours, I command the peace.

_Wife._ Oh, Mr. Constable, here's a rogue that has murdered my husband, and robbed him of his clothes.

_Const._ Murder and robbery!--Then he must be a gentleman.----Hands off there; he must not be abused.----Give an account of yourself. Are you a gentleman?

_Clinch. sen._ No, sir, I'm a beau.

_Const._ A beau--Then you have killed nobody, I'm persuaded. How came you by these clothes, sir?

_Clinch. sen._ You must know, sir, that walking along, sir, I don't know how, sir, I can't tell where, sir,--and so the porter and I changed clothes, sir.

_Const._ Very well. The man speaks reason, and like a gentleman.

_Wife._ But pray, Mr. Constable, ask him how he changed clothes with him.

_Const._ Silence, woman, and don't disturb the court. Well, sir, how did you change clothes?

_Clinch. sen._ Why, sir, he pulled off my coat, and I drew off his: so I put on his coat, and he put on mine.

_Const._ Why, neighbour, I don't find that he's guilty: search him--and if he carries no arms about him, we'll let him go. [_They search his Pockets, and pull out his Pistols._

_Clinch. sen._ Oh, gemini! My Jubilee pistols!

_Const._ What, a case of pistols! Then the case is plain. Speak, what are you, sir? Whence came you, and whither go you?

_Clinch. sen._ Sir, I came from Russel Street, and am going to the Jubilee.

_Wife._ You shall go the gallows, you rogue.

_Const._ Away with him, away with him to Newgate, straight.

_Clinch. sen._ I shall go to the Jubilee now, indeed.

_Enter_ SIR. H. WILDAIR _and_ COLONEL STANDARD.

_Sir H._ In short, colonel, 'tis all nonsense--fight for a woman! Hard by is the lady's house, if you please, we'll wait on her together: you shall draw your sword--I'll draw my snuff-box: you shall produce your wounds received in war--I'll relate mine by Cupid's dart: you shall swear--I'll sigh: you shall sa, sa, and I'll coupée; and if she flies not to my arms, like a hawk to its perch, my dancing-master deserves to be damned.

_Colonel S._ With the generality of women, I grant you, these arts may prevail.

_Sir H._ Generality of women! Why there again, you're out. They're all alike, sir: I never heard of any one that was particular, but one.

_Colonel S._ Who was she, pray?

_Sir H._ Penelope, I think she's called, and that's a poetical story too. When will you find a poet in our age make a woman so chaste?

_Colonel S._ Well, Sir Harry, your facetious humour can disguise falsehood, and make calumny pass for satire; but you have promised me ocular demonstration that she favours you: make that good, and I shall then maintain faith and female to be as inconsistent as truth and falsehood.

_Sir H._ But will you be convinced, if our plot succeeds.

_Colonel S._ I rely on your word and honour, Sir Harry.

_Sir H._ Then meet me half an hour hence at the Shakspeare; you must oblige me by taking a hearty glass with me toward the fitting me out for a certain project, which this night I undertake.

_Colonel S._ I guess, by the preparation, that woman's the design.

_Sir H._ Yes, 'faith.--I am taken dangerously ill with two foolish maladies, modesty and love: the first I'll cure with Burgundy, and my love by a night's lodging with the damsel. A sure remedy. _Probatum est._

_Colonel S._ I'll certainly meet you, sir. [_Exeunt severally._

_Enter_ CLINCHER JUNIOR _and_ DICKY.

_Clinch. jun._ Ah, Dick, this London is a sad place, a sad vicious place: I wish that I were in the country again. And this brother of mine--I'm sorry he's so great a rake: I had rather see him dead than see him thus.

_Dicky._ Ay, sir, he'll spend his whole estate at this same Jubilee. Who d'ye think lives at this same Jubilee?

_Clinch. jun._ Who, pray?

_Dicky._ The Pope.

_Clinch. jun._ The devil he does! My brother go to the place where the Pope dwells! He's bewitched, sure!

_Enter_ TOM ERRAND, _in_ CLINCHER SENIOR'S _Clothes_.

_Dicky._ Indeed, I believe he is, for he's strangely altered.

_Clinch. jun._ Altered! Why, he looks like a Jesuit already.

_Tom._ This lace will sell. What a blockhead was the fellow to trust me with his coat! If I can get cross the garden, down to the water-side, I am pretty secure.

_Clinch. jun._ Brother?--Alaw! Oh, gemini! Are you my brother?

_Dicky._ I seize you in the kings name, sir.

_Tom._ Oh, lord! should this prove some parliament man now!

_Clinch. jun._ Speak, you rogue, what are you?

_Tom._ A poor porter, and going of an errand.

_Dicky._ What errand? Speak, you rogue.

_Tom._ A fool's errand, I'm afraid.

_Clinch. jun._ Who sent you?

_Tom._ A beau, sir.

_Dicky._ No, no; the rogue has murdered your brother, and stripped him of his clothes.

_Clinch. jun._ Murdered my brother! Oh, crimini! Oh, my poor Jubilee brother! Stay, by Jupiter Ammon, I'm heir though. Speak, sir, have you killed him? Confess that you have killed him, and I'll give you half a crown.

_Tom._ Who I, sir? Alack-a-day, sir, I never killed any man, but a carrier's horse once.

_Clinch. jun._ Then you shall certainly be hanged; but confess that you killed him, and we'll let you go.

_Tom._ Telling the truth hangs a man, but confessing a lie can do no harm: besides, if the worst come to the worst, I can but deny it again.--Well, sir, since I must tell you, I did kill him.

_Clinch. jun._ Here's your money, sir.--But are you sure you killed him dead?

_Tom._ Sir, I'll swear it before any judge in England.

_Dicky._ But are you sure that he's dead in law?

_Tom._ Dead in law! I can't tell whether he be dead in law. But he's as dead as a door nail; for I gave him seven knocks on the head with a hammer.

_Dicky._ Then you have the estate by statute. Any man that's knocked on the head is dead in law.

_Clinch. jun._ But are you sure he was compos mentis when he was killed?

_Tom._ I suppose he was, sir; for he told me nothing to the contrary afterwards.

_Clinch. jun._ Hey! Then I go to the Jubilee.--Strip, sir, strip. By Jupiter Ammon, strip.

_Dicky._ Ah! don't swear, sir. [_Puts on his Brother's Clothes._

_Clinch. jun._ Swear, sir! Zoons, ha'n't I got the estate, sir? Come, sir, now I'm in mourning for my brother.

_Tom._ I hope you'll let me go now, sir.

_Clinch. jun._ Yes, yes, sir; but you must do the favour to swear positively before a magistrate, that you killed him dead, that I may enter upon the estate without any trouble. By Jupiter Ammon, all my religion's gone, since I put on these fine clothes.--Hey, call me a coach somebody.

_Tom._ Ay, master, let me go, and I'll call one immediately.

_Clinch. jun._ No, no; Dicky, carry this spark before a justice, and when he has made oath, you may discharge him. And I'll go see Angelica. [_Exeunt_ DICKY _and_ TOM.] Now that I'm an elder brother, I'll court, and swear, and rant and rake, and go to the Jubilee with the best of them. [_Exit._