Oh, sir! if you have any pity for an injured, helpless woman,
assist one who never knew distress till now!

_Flor._ Go on, ma'am, go on--both damn'd drunk I perceive.

_Louisa._ Do not be deaf to my entreaties--do not desert me--

_Flor._ Go on, ma'am, go on--I love oratory in a woman.

_Louisa._ Gracious Heaven! how have I deserved all this? I see, sir, you
avoid me. I see you are indifferent to my fate.

_Flor._ No, ma'am, you wrong me--but in Italy--observe--we always take
these things coolly--now, sir, will you explain?

_Willoughby._ No, sir, I will not.

_Flor._ You will not?

_Willoughby._ No, sir, and I warn you not to listen to the wild ravings
of a senseless woman--it may be better for you, sir.

_Flor._ Why so, Prince Prettiman?

_Willoughby._ No matter, sir, I will not be amused from my purpose.

_Flor._ You won't, old Pluto, won't you? then, ma'am, observe! you shall
behold my mode of fighting--I'll kill him like a gentleman, and he shall
die without a groan;--you'll be delighted, ma'am--I learnt it all in
Italy.--Come, Belzebub, are you ready?

_Willoughby._ 'Sdeath! what can I do? he is drunk, perhaps I may disarm
him.

_Flor._ Now, thou original sin, thou prince of darkness! come out; never
let her see thy black infernal visage more, or by my life I'll pulverize
you--you see, ma'am, no bad orator either--learnt it all in Italy.

_Willoughby._ Come on, sir.

_Flor._ Ay, now old Sysiphus, push home--but fight like a gentleman, if
you can, for remember, there is a lady in company--observe, ma'am,
observe; you won't see it again. [_They fight.--FLORIVILLE disarms
WILLOUGHBY._]

_Flor._ What, vanquished, Tarquin? hah! hah! [_Parrying up and down the
stage by himself._]--You see, ma'am, you see!--Oh! Italy's your only
country!--Now, ma'am, would you have me kill him here, "in Allegro," or
postpone it, that you may have the pleasure of pinking him yourself, "in
Penseroso?"

_Louisa._ [_Coming near FLORIVILLE, and discovering him._] Floriville,
my deliverer!--generous man!--No, sir, whatever are his crimes, do not
kill him; his greatest punishment will be to live.

_Flor._ There, then, caitiff, take your sword, and, d'ye hear?
retire;--that black front of thine offends the lady;--if you want
another flourish, you will soon find Floriville--abscond.

_Willoughby._ Sir, you shall hear from me--distraction! [_Exit._

_Flor._ And now, my dear little angel, how can I assist you? I'm ve