Lord Fop. [Aside.] So! she would inquire into my amours—that’s jealousy, poor soul!—I see she’s in love with me.—[Aloud.] O Lord, madam, I had like to have forgot a secret I must need tell your ladyship.—Ned, you must not be so jealous now as to listen.

Love. [Leading Berinthia up the stage.] Not I, my lord; I am too fashionable a husband to pry into the secrets of my wife.

Lord Fop. [Aside to Amanda, squeezing her hand.] I am in love with you to desperation, strike me speechless!

Aman. [Strikes him on the ear.] Then thus I return your passion.—An impudent fool!

Lord Fop. Gad’s curse, madam, I am a peer of the realm!

Love. [Hastily returning.] Hey! what the devil, do you affront my wife, sir? Nay, then——

[Draws. They fight.

Aman. What has my folly done?—Help! murder! help! Part them for Heaven’s sake.

Lord Fop. [Falls back and leans on his sword.] Ah! quite through the body, stap my vitals!

Enter Servants.

Love. [Runs to Lord Foppington.] I hope I ha’n’t killed the fool, however. Bear him up.—Call a surgeon there.

Lord Fop. Ay, pray make haste.

[Exit Servant.

Love. This mischief you may thank yourself for.

Lord Fop. I may so; love’s the devil indeed, Ned.

Re-enter Servant, with Probe.

Ser. Here’s Mr. Probe, sir, was just going by the door.

Lord Fop. He’s the welcomest man alive.

Probe. Stand by, stand by, stand by; pray, gentlemen, stand by. Lord have mercy upon us, did you never see a man run through the body before?—Pray stand by.

Lord Fop. Ah, Mr. Probe, I’m a dead man.

Probe. A dead man, and I by! I should laugh to see that, egad.

Love. Pr’ythee don’t stand prating, but look upon his wound.

Probe. Why, what if I don’t look upon his wound this hour, sir?

Love. Why, then he’ll bleed to death, sir.

Probe. Why, then I’ll fetch him to life again, sir.

Love. ’Slife! he’s run through the body, I tell thee.