[Shouting and huzzaing.]
A Cav. A toast! gentlemen. "Noll's nose a-fire, and the devil's youngest daughter to baste it with aqua-vitae!"
All. Ha! ha!
A Cav. Would that Goring's moonrakers might come across the snuffling organ and cut it off. We would have it by way of pavillon. Thou, Frank Howard! shouldst carry it as senior cornet. Thou wouldst be like curly-headed David with the spoils of the Philistine drum-major Goliah. Led on by its light we'd march direct to Whitehall, our trumpets sending dismay to the virtue of the starched coifs of the round rosy rogues of London.
A Cav. [Arranging his love-lock.] Plague on't, I don't think their virtue would tremble at the chance.
Anoth. Cav. Lord! what rumpling of sober dimities! Poor little plump partridges, they cannot help their forced puritanism.—But all women are for king and cavalier in their hearts.
[Two Cavaliers advance with angry gestures to the front of the stage.]
1st Cav. I tell thee, Wilmington! 'twas I she did regard.
2nd Cav. And I tell thee that thou thinkest wrong. I know she loves me.
1st Cav. Did she tell thee so?