Sir Morg. I do not intend to ravish, like a Jew, in my own Tribe—
L. Youth. What say they, Mr. Twang, ravish? Oh, save my Honour—lead me to my Bed-Chamber, where, if they dare venture to come, they come upon their Peril. Twang leads her out. Sir Morgan goes to Ter.
Sir Mer. Old Fellow, do’st hear? Sir Pandarus of Troy, deliver me my Cressida, de see, peacefully, or I am resolved to bear her off Vi & Armis.
L. Blun. Sweet Nephew, retire, we are just upon making your Peace.
Sir Mer. Ha—[Old Queen Gwiniver], without her Ruff on?
Sir Merlin takes hold of her to bear her off; [she cries out]: Sir Rowland draws upon him. As they are going to fight, George enters.
Geo. Is there a Man in Nature’s Race so vile, dares lift a guilty Hand against his Father?
Sir Mer. Father me no Fathers; I fight for Teresia, my lawfully begotten Spouse.
Geo. That I once called you Brother, saves your Life; therefore resign your Sword here at his reverend Feet.
Sir Mer. Sirrah, you lye, Sirrah—