n _England_.

_Friend._ So I heard, Major.

_Dull._ You heard, Sir! what have you heard? he's a Kidnapper that says
he heard any thing of me--and so my service to you.--I'll sue you, Sir,
for spoiling my Marriage here by your Scandals with Mrs. _Chrisante_:
but that shan't do, Sir, I'll marry her for all that, and he's a Rascal
that denies it.

_Friend._ S'death, you lye, Sir--I do.

_Tim._ Gad zoors, Sir, lye to a Privy-Counsellor, a Major of Horse!
Brother, this is an Affront to our Dignities: draw and I'll side with
you.
[They both draw on _Friendly_, the Ladies run off.

_Friend._ If I disdain to draw, 'tis not that I fear your base and
cowardly Force, but for the respect I bear you as Magistrates, and so I
leave you.
[Goes out.

_Tim._ An arrant Coward, gad zoors.

_Dull._ A mere Paultroon, and I scorn to drink in his Company.

[Exeunt, putting up their Swords.

SCENE III. A _Sevana_, or large Heath.

Enter _Whimsey_, _Whiff_, and _Boozer_, with some Soldiers arm'd.

_Whim._ Stand--stand--and hear the word of Command--do ye see yon Cops,
and that Ditch that runs along Major _Dullman's_ Plantation?

_Booz._ We do.

_Whim._ Place your Men there, and lie flat on your Bellies, and when
_Bacon_ comes, (if alone) seize him, d'ye see.

_Whiff._ Observe the Command now (if alone) for we are not for
blood-shed.

_Booz._ I'll warrant you for our parts.

[Exeunt all but _Whim._ and _Whiff_.

_Whim._ Now we have ambusht our Men, let's light our Pipes, and sit down
and take an encouraging dram of the Bottle.
[Pulls a Bottle of Brandy out of his Pocket--they sit.

_Whiff._ Thou art a Knave, and hast emptied half the Bottle in thy
Leathern Pockets; but come, here's young _Frightall's_ Health.

_Whim._ What, wilt drink a Man's Health thou'rt going to hang?

_Whiff._ 'Tis all one for that, we'll drink his Health first, and hang
him afterwards, and thou shalt pledge me, d'ye see, and though 'twere
under the Gallows.

_Whim._ Thou'rt a Traitor for saying so, and I defy thee.

_Whiff._ Nay, since we are come out like loving Brothers to hang the
General, let's not fall out among our selves; and so here's to you,
[Drinks.] though I have no great Maw to this Business.

_Whim._ Prithee, Brother _Whiff_, do not be so villainous a Coward, for
I hate a Coward.

_Whiff._ Nay, 'tis not that--but, my _Whiff_, my _Nancy_ dreamt to night
she saw me hanged.

_Whim._ 'Twas a cowardly Drea