Sir Anth. Put up, Jack, put up, or I shall be in a frenzy—how came you in a duel, sir?

Abs. Faith, sir, that gentleman can tell you better than I; ’twas he called on me, and you know, sir, I serve his majesty.

Sir Anth. Here’s a pretty fellow; I catch him going to cut a man’s throat, and he tells me he serves his majesty!—Zounds! sirrah, then how durst you draw the king’s sword against one of his subjects?

Abs. Sir! I tell you, that gentleman called me out, without explaining his reasons.

Sir Anth. Gad! sir, how came you to call my son out, without explaining your reasons!

Sir Luc. Your son, sir, insulted me in a manner which my honour could not brook.

Sir Anth. Zounds! Jack, how durst you insult the gentleman in a manner which his honour could not brook?

Mrs. Mal. Come, come, let’s have no honour before ladies— Captain Absolute, come here—How could you intimidate us so?— Here’s Lydia has been terrified to death for you.

Abs. For fear I should be killed, or escape, ma’am?

Mrs. Mal. Nay, no delusions to the past—Lydia is convinced; speak, child.

Sir Luc. With your leave, ma’am, I must put in a word here: I believe I could interpret the young lady’s silence. Now mark—

Lyd. What is it you mean, sir?

Sir Luc. Come, come, Delia, we must be serious now—this is no time for trifling.

Lyd. ’Tis true, sir; and your reproof bids me offer this gentleman my hand, and solicit the return of his affections.

Abs. O! my little angel, say you so?—Sir Lucius, I perceive there must be some mistake here, with regard to the affront which you affirm I have given you. I can only say that it could not have been intentional. And as you must be convinced, that I should not fear to support a real injury—you shall now see that I am not ashamed to atone for an inadvertency—I ask your pardon.—But for this lady, while honoured with her approbation, I will support my claim against any man whatever.

Sir Anth. Well said, Jack, and I’ll stand by you, my boy.

Acres. Mind, I give up all my claim—I make no pretensions to any thing in the world; and if I can’t get a wife without fighting for her, by my valour! I’ll live a bachelor.

Sir Luc. Captain, give me your hand: an affront handsomely acknowledged becomes an obligation; and as for the lady, if she chooses to deny her own handwriting, here—

[Takes out letters.

Mrs. Mal. O, he will dissolve my mystery!—Sir Lucius, perhaps there’s some mistake—perhaps I can illuminate—

Sir Luc. Pray, old gentlewoman, don’t interfere where you have no business.—Miss Languish, are you my Delia or not?

Lyd. Indeed, Sir Lucius, I am not.