Down. To be General of the Forces against the Indians, and blank Commissions for his Friends.
Well. Tear them in pieces—are we to be imposed upon? Do ye come in hostile manner to compel us?
Down. Be not too rough, Sir, let us argue with him.
Well. I am resolv’d I will not.
Tim. Then we are all dead Men, Gudzoors! he will not give us time to say our Prayers.
Well. We every day expect fresh force from England, till then, we of our selves shall be sufficient to make defence against a sturdy Traitor.
Bac. Traitor! S’death, Traitor—I defy ye, but that my Honour’s yet above my Anger, I’d make you answer me that Traitor dearly. Rises.
Well. Hah—am I threatned—Guards, secure the Rebel. Guards seize him.
Bac. Is this your honourable Invitation? Go—triumph in your short-liv’d Victory, the next turn shall be mine. Exeunt Guards with Bac.
A Noise of Fighting—Enter Bacon, [Wellman’s Guards] beat back by the Rabble, Bacon snatches a Sword from one, and keeps back the Rabble, Tim. gets under the Table.