Guil. Not a Man,—only run ‘em through the body a little, that’s all, my two Boys were by, my Pages here.
Isa. Is it the fashion, Sir, to be attended by Pages so big?
Guil. Pages of Honour always;—these were stinted at nurse, or they had been good proper Fellows.
Fran. I am so frighted with this relation, that I must up to my Wife’s Chamber for a little of that strong Cordial that recovered her this morning. [Going out Guil. stays him.
Guil. Why, I’ll tell you, Sir, what an odd sort of a Wound I received in a Duel the other day,—nay, Ladies, I’ll shew it you; in a very odd place—in my back parts. [Goes to untuck his Breeches, the Ladies squeak.
Isa. Ah.
Page. Shew a Wound behind, Sir! the Ladies will think you are a Coward.
Guil. Peace, Child, peace, the Ladies understand Dueling as little as my self; but, since you are so tender-hearted, Ladies, I’ll not shew you my wound; but faith, it spoiled my dancing.
Page comes in.
Page. My Lord, now you talk of dancing, here’s your Baggage brought from a-board the Gally by your Seamen, who us’d to entertain you with their rustick Sports.