Tim. I am the man, Sir, d’ye see, for want of a better; you shall repent, Guds zoors, your putting of tricks upon Persons of my Rank and Quality. After he has spoke, he runs back as afraid of him.
Haz. Your Rank and Quality!
Tim. Ay, Sir, my Rank and Quality; first I am one of the honourable Council, next, a Justice of Peace in Quorum, Cornet of a Troop of Horse, d’ye see, and Church-warden.
Friend. From whence proceeds this, Mr. Justice? you said nothing of this at Madam Ranter’s yesterday; you saw him there, then you were good Friends.
Tim. Ay, however I have carried my Body swimmingly before my Mistress, d’ye see, I had Rancour in my Heart, Gads zoors.
Friend. Why, this Gentleman’s a Stranger, and but lately come ashore.
Haz. At my first landing I was in company with this Fellow and two or three of his cruel Brethren, where I was affronted by them, some Words pass’d, and I drew—
Tim. Ay, ay, Sir, you shall pay for’t,—why—what, Sir, cannot a civil Magistrate affront a Man, but he must be drawn upon presently?
Friend. Well, Sir, the Gentleman shall answer your Suit, and I hope you’ll take my Bail for him.
Tim. ’Tis enough—I know you to be a civil Person.