Enter Archer and Mrs. Sullen.

Arch. Hold, hold, my lord! every man his bird, pray.

[They engage man to man; Hounslow and Bagshot are thrown and disarmed.

Cher. [aside]. What! the rogues taken! then they’ll impeach my father: I must give him timely notice.

[Runs out.

Arch. Shall we kill the rogues?

Aim. No, no, we’ll bind them.

Arch. Ay, ay.—[To Mrs. Sullen, who stands by him.] Here, madam, lend me your garter.

Mrs. Sul. [aside]. The devil’s in this fellow! he fights, loves, and banters, all in a breath.—[Aloud.] Here’s a cord that the rogues brought with ’em, I suppose.

Arch. Right, right, the rogue’s destiny, a rope to hang himself.—Come, my lord—this is but a scandalous sort of an office [Binding the Highwaymen together], if our adventures should end in this sort of hangman- work; but I hope there is something in prospect, that—

Enter Scrub.

Arch. Well, Scrub, have you secured your Tartar?

Scrub. Yes, sir, I left the priest and him disputing about religion.

Aim. And pray carry these gentlemen to reap the benefit of the controversy.

[Delivers the prisoners to Scrub, who leads them out.

Mrs. Sul. Pray, sister, how came my lord here?

Dor. And pray, how came the gentleman here?

Mrs. Sul. I’ll tell you the greatest piece of villainy—

[They talk in dumb show.

Aim. I fancy, Archer, you have been more successful in your adventures than the housebreakers.

Arch. No matter for my adventure, yours is the principal.—Press her this minute to marry you—now while she’s hurried between the palpitation of her fear and the joy of her deliverance, now while the tide of her spirits is at high-flood—throw yourself at her feet, speak some romantic nonsense or other—address her, like Alexander in the height of his victory, confound her senses, bear down her reason, and away with her.—The priest is now in the cellar, and dare not refuse to do the work.

Re-enter Lady Bountiful.

Aim. But how shall I get off without being observed?

Arch. You a lover, and not find a way to get off!—Let me see—

Aim. You bleed, Archer.


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