Guil. Why, any Antonio; all the Antonio’s that you find in Cadiz.
Fran. Oh, what bloody-minded Monsters these Lords are!—But, my Lord, I’ll ne’er give you the trouble of killing him, I’ll put him off with a handsom Compliment; as thus,—Why, look ye, Friend Antonio, the business is this, my Daughter Isabella may marry a Lord, and you may go fiddle.—
Guil. Ay, that’s civil,—and if he do not desist, I’ll unpeople Spain but I’ll kill him; for, Madam, I’ll tell you what happened to me in the Court of France—there was a Lady in the Court in love with me,—she took a liking to my Person which—I think,—you will confess—
Isa. To be the most accomplisht in the World.
Guil. I had some sixscore Rivals, they all took Snuff; that is, were angry—at which I smiled;—they were incensed; at which I laught, ha, ha, ha,—i’faith; they rag’d, I—when I met ‘em,—Cockt, thus—en passant—justled ‘em—thus,—[Overthrows Fran.] They turn’d and frown’d,—thus,—I drew.—
Fran. What, on all the sixscore, my Lord?
Guil. All, all; sa, sa, quoth I, sa, sa, sa, sa, sa, sa. [Fences him round the Stage.
Fran. Hold, hold, my Lord, I am none of the sixscore.
Guil. And run ‘em all through the Body!
Fran. Oh Heavens! and kill’d ‘em all.