Well. I cannot sleep, my Impatience is so great to engage this haughty Enemy, before they have reposed their weary Limbs—Is not yon ruddy Light the Morning’s dawn?
Brag. ’Tis, and please your Honour.
Well. Is there no News of Friendly yet, and Hazard?
Brag. Not yet—’tis thought they left the Camp to night, with some design against the Enemy.
Well. What Men have they?
Brag. Only Boozer’s Party, Sir.
Well. I know they are brave, and mean to surprize me with some handsome Action.
Enter Friendly.
Friend. I ask a thousand Pardons, Sir, for quitting the Camp without your leave.
Well. Your conduct and your Courage cannot err; I see thou’st been in action by thy Blood.