A Trip to Scarborough — Act II (Part 5 of 8)

Probe. I wish he was run through the heart, and I should get the more credit by his cure. Now I hope you are satisfied? Come, now let me come at him—now let me come at him.—[Viewing his wound.] Oons! what a gash is here! why, sir, a man may drive a coach and six horses into your body.

Lord Fop. Oh!

Probe. Why, what the devil have you run the gentleman through with—a seythe?—[Aside.] A little scratch between the skin and the ribs, that’s all.

Love. Let me see his wound.

Probe. Then you shall dress it, sir; for if anybody looks upon it I won’t.

Love. Why thou art the veriest coxcomb I ever saw!

Probe. Sir, I am not master of my trade for nothing.

Lord Fop. Surgeon!

Probe. Sir.

Lord Fop. Are there any hopes?

Probe. Hopes! I can’t tell. What are you willing to give for a cure?

Lord Fop. Five hundred paunds with pleasure.

Probe. Why then perhaps there may be hopes; but we must avoid further delay.—Here, help the gentleman into a chair, and carry him to my house presently—that’s the properest place—[Aside.] to bubble him out of his money.—[Aloud.] Come, a chair—a chair quickly—there, in with him.

[Servants put Lord Foppington into a chair.

Lord Fop. Dear Loveless, adieu; if I die, I forgive thee; and if I live, I hope thou wilt do as much by me. I am sorry you and I should quarrel, but I hope here’s an end on’t; for if you are satisfied, I am.

Love. I shall hardly think it worth my prosecuting any further, so you may be at rest, sir.

Lord Fop. Thou art a generous fellow, strike me dumb!—[Aside.] But thou hast an impertinent wife, stap my vitals!

Probe. So—carry him off!—carry him off!—We shall have him into a fever by-and-by.—Carry him off!

[Exit with Lord Foppington.

Enter Colonel Townly.

Col. Town. So, so, I am glad to find you all alive.—I met a wounded peer carrying off. For heaven’s sake what was the matter?

Love. Oh, a trifle! he would have made love to my wife before my face, so she obliged him with a box o’ the ear, and I ran him through the body, that was all.

Col. Town. Bagatelle on all sides. But pray, madam, how long has this noble lord been an humble servant of yours?