Sir Mer. You lye like a Son of a Whore—I have been drinking Confusion to all the Fathers and Husbands in England.
Sir Morg. How, Sir, Confusion to Husbands! Look ye, de see, Sir, swallow me that Word, or I’ll make you deposit all the conjugal Wine you have drunk.
Sir Mer. I deposit all your Wine! Sirrah, you’re a Blunderbuss.
Sir Morg. Sirrah, you are a diminutive Bully.
Sir Mer. Sirrah, you’re the Whore of Babylon, and I defy you.
Sir Morg. Lookye, de see, I scorn to draw upon a drunken Man, or so, I being sober; but I boldly challenge you into the Cellar, where thou shalt drink till thou renounce thy Character, or talk Treason enough to hang thee, and that’s fair and civil.
Sir Mer. Agreed; and when I’m drunk enough to ravish, I’ll cuckold my old Dad, and fight him for his Mistress.
Sir Row. I have no Patience; I’ll kill the Dog, because I’ll have the Law on my side—Come on, Sir.
Draws, the Ladies run out. Sir Merlin draws. George runs in and parts ’em.
Geo. Villain! Rascal! What, draw upon thy Father!