Volume I Part 27 (1/2)

_Ned Blunt, Ned, Ned_-- [and knocking within.

_Belv._ Why, he's dead, Sir, without dispute dead, he has not been seen to day; let's break open the Door-- here-- Boy--

_Blunt._ Ha, break open the Door! 'dsheartlikins that mad Fellow will be as good as his word.

_Belv._ Boy, bring something to force the Door.

[A great noise within at the Door again.

_Blunt._ So, now must I speak in my own Defence, I'll try what Rhetorick will do-- hold-- hold, what do you mean, Gentlemen, what do you mean?

_Belv._ Oh Rogue, art alive? prithee open the Door, and convince us.

_Blunt._ Yes, I am alive, Gentlemen-- but at present a little busy.

_Belv._ How! _Blunt_ grown a man of Business! come, come, open, and let's see this Miracle.

[within.

_Blunt._ No, no, no, no, Gentlemen, 'tis no great Business-- but-- I am-- at-- my Devotion,-- 'dsheartlikins, will you not allow a man time to pray?

_Belv._ Turn'd religious! a greater Wonder than the first, therefore open quickly, or we shall unhinge, we shall.

[within.

_Blunt._ This won't do-- Why, hark ye, Colonel; to tell you the plain Truth, I am about a necessary Affair of Life.-- I have a Wench with me-- you apprehend me? the Devil's in't if they be so uncivil as to disturb me now.

_Will._ How, a Wench! Nay, then we must enter and partake; no Resistance,-- unless it be your Lady of Quality, and then we'll keep our distance.

_Blunt._ So, the Business is out.

_Will._ Come, come, lend more hands to the Door,-- now heave altogether-- so, well done, my Boys-- [Breaks open the Door.

Enter _Belvile_, _Willmore_, _Fred._ _Pedro_ and _Belvile's_ Page: _Blunt_ looks simply, they all laugh at him, he lays his hand on his Sword, and conies up to _Willmore_.

_Blunt._ Hark ye, Sir, laugh out your laugh quickly, d'ye hear, and be gone, I shall spoil your sport else; 'dsheartlikins, Sir, I shall-- the Jest has been carried on too long,-- a Plague upon my Taylor-- [Aside.

_Will._ 'Sdeath, how the Wh.o.r.e has drest him! Faith, Sir, I'm sorry.

_Blunt._ Are you so, Sir? keep't to your self then, Sir, I advise you, d'ye hear? for I can as little endure your Pity as his Mirth.

[Lays his Hand on's Sword.

_Belv._ Indeed, _Willmore_, thou wert a little too rough with _Ned Blunt's_ Mistress; call a Person of Quality Wh.o.r.e, and one so young, so handsome, and so eloquent!-- ha, ha, ha.

_Blunt._ Hark ye, Sir, you know me, and know I can be angry; have a care-- for 'dsheartlikins I can fight too-- I can, Sir,-- do you mark me-- no more.

_Belv._ Why so peevish, good _Ned_? some Disappointments, I'll warrant-- What! did the jealous Count her Husband return just in the nick?

_Blunt._ Or the Devil, Sir,-- d'ye laugh? [They laugh.] Look ye, settle me a good sober Countenance, and that quickly too, or you shall know _Ned Blunt_ is not--

_Belv._ Not every Body, we know that.

_Blunt._ Not an a.s.s, to be laught at, Sir.