Enter _Whimsey_, pulling in _Whiff_, with a Halter about his Neck.

_Whim._ Nay, I"m resolved to keep thee here till his Honour the General comes.--What, to call him Traitor, and run away after he had so generously given us our freedom, and listed us Cadees for the next Command that fell in his Army--I"m resolved to hang thee--

_Whiff._ Wilt thou betray and peach thy Friend? thy Friend that kept thee Company all the while thou wert a Prisoner--drinking at my own charge--

_Whim._ No matter for that, I scorn Ingrat.i.tude, and therefore will hang thee--but as for thy drinking with me--I scorn to be behind-hand with thee in Civility, and therefore here"s to thee.

[Takes a Bottle of Brandy out of his Pocket, Drinks.



_Whiff._ I can"t drink.

_Whim._ A certain sign thou wo"t be hang"d.

_Whiff._ You us"d to be o" my side when a Justice, let the Cause be how it wou"d.

[Weeps.

_Whim._ Ay--when I was a Justice I never minded Honesty, but now I"ll be true to my General, and hang thee to be a great Man.--

_Whiff._ If I might but have a fair Trial for my Life--

_Whim._ A fair Trial!--come, I"ll be thy Judge--and if thou canst clear thy self by Law, I"ll acquit thee: Sirrah, Sirrah, what canst thou say for thy self for calling his Honour Rebel?

[Sits on a Drum-head.

_Whiff._ "T was when I was drunk, an"t like your Honour.

_Whim._ That"s no Plea; for if you kill a Man when you are sober, you must be hanged when you are drunk. Hast thou any thing else to say for thy self why Sentence may not pa.s.s upon thee?

_Whiff._ I desire the Benefit of the Clergy.

_Whim._ The Clergy! I never knew any body that ever did benefit by "em; why, thou canst not read a word.

_Whiff._ Transportation then--

_Whim._ It shall be to _England_ then--but hold--who"s this?

[_Dullman_ creeping from a Bush.

_Dull._ So the Danger"s over, I may venture out--Pox on"t, I wou"d not be in this fear again, to be Lord Chief Justice of our Court. Why, how now, Cornet?--what, in dreadful Equipage? Your Battle-Ax b.l.o.o.d.y, with Bow and Arrows.

Enter _Timorous_ with Battle-Ax, Bow and Arrows, and Feathers on his Head.

_Tim._ I"m in the posture of the times, Major--I cou"d not be idle where so much Action was; I"m going to present my self to the General, with these Trophies of my Victory here--

_Dull._ Victory--what Victory--did not I see thee creeping out of yonder Bush, where thou wert hid all the Fight--stumble on a dead _Indian_, and take away his Arms?

_Tim._ Why, didst thou see me?

_Dull._ See thee, ay--and what a fright thou wert in, till thou wert sure he was dead.

_Tim._ Well, well, that"s all one--Gads zoors, if every Man that pa.s.ses for valiant in a Battel, were to give an account how he gained his Reputation, the World wou"d be but thinly stock"d with Heroes; I"ll say he was a great War-Captain, and that I kill"d him hand to hand, and who can disprove me?

_Dull._ Disprove thee--why, that pale Face of thine, that has so much of the Coward in"t.

_Tim._ Shaw, that"s with loss of Blood--Hah, I am overheard I doubt--who"s yonder-- [Sees _Whim._ and _Whiff_.] how, Brother _Whiff_ in a Hempen Cravat-string?

_Whim._ He call"d the General Traitor, and was running away, and I"m resolv"d to peach.

_Dull._ Hum--and one Witness will stand good in Law, in case of Treason--

_Tim._ Gads zoors, in case of Treason, he"ll be hang"d if it be proved against him, were there ne"er a Witness at all; but he must be tried by a Council of War, Man--Come, come, let"s disarm him-- [They take away his Arms, and pull a Bottle of Brandy out of his Pocket.

_Whiff._ What, I hope you will not take away my Brandy, Gentlemen, my last comfort.

_Tim._ Gads zoors, it"s come in good time--we"ll drink it off, here, Major-- [Drinks, _Whiff_ takes him aside.

_Whiff._ Hark ye, Cornet--you are my good Friend, get this matter made up before it come to the General.

_Tim._ But this is Treason, Neighbour.

_Whiff._ If I hang--I"ll declare upon the Ladder how you kill"d your War-Captain.

_Tim._ Come, Brother _Whimsey_--we have been all Friends and loving Magistrates together, let"s drink about, and think no more of this Business.

_Dull._ Ay, ay, if every sober Man in the Nation should be called to account of the Treason he speaks in"s Drink, the Lord have mercy upon us all.--Put it up--and let us, like loving Brothers, take an honest Resolution to run away together; for this same _Frightall_ minds nothing but Fighting.

_Whim._ I"m content, provided we go all to the Council, and tell them (to make our Peace) we went in obedience to the Proclamation, to kill _Bacon_, but the Traitor was so strongly guarded we could not effect it: but mum--who"s here?--

To them, enter _Ranter_ and _Jenny_, as Man and Footman.

_Ran._ Hah, our four reverend Justices--I hope the Blockheads will not know me--Gentlemen, can you direct me to Lieutenant General _Daring"s_ Tents?

_Whiff._ Hum, who the Devil"s this?--that"s he you see coming this way.

"Sdeath, yonder"s _Daring_--let"s slip away before he advances.

[Exeunt all but _Ran._ and _Jen._

_Jen._ I am scar"d with those dead Bodies we have pa.s.s"d over; for G.o.d"s sake, Madam, let me know your design in coming.

_Ran._ Why, now I tell thee--my d.a.m.n"d mad Fellow _Daring_, who has my Heart and Soul, loves _Chrisante_, has stolen her, and carried her away to his Tents; she hates him, while I am dying for him.

_Jem._ Dying, Madam! I never saw you melancholy.

_Ran._ Pox on"t, no; why should I sigh and whine, and make my self an a.s.s, and him conceited? no, instead of snivelling I am resolved--

_Jen._ What, Madam?

_Ran._ Gad, to beat the Rascal, and bring off _Chrisante_.

_Jen._ Beat him, Madam! what, a Woman beat a Lieutenant-General?

_Ran._ Hang "em, they get a name in War from Command, not Courage; but how know I but I may fight? Gad, I have known a Fellow kick"d from one end of the Town to t"other, believing himself a Coward; at last forced to fight, found he could; got a Reputation, and bullied all he met with; and got a Name, and a great Commission.

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