Flor. Now, thou original sin, thou prince of darkness! come out; never let her see thy black infernal visage more, or by my life I'll pulverize you—you see, ma'am, no bad orator either—learnt it all in Italy.
Willoughby. Come on, sir.
Flor. Ay, now old Sysiphus, push home—but fight like a gentleman, if you can, for remember, there is a lady in company—observe, ma'am, observe; you won't see it again.
[They fight.—Floriville disarms Willoughby.]
Flor. What, vanquished, Tarquin? hah! hah! [Parrying up and down the stage by himself.]—You see, ma'am, you see!—Oh! Italy's your only country!—Now, ma'am, would you have me kill him here, "in Allegro," or postpone it, that you may have the pleasure of pinking him yourself, "in Penseroso?"
Louisa. [Coming near Floriville, and discovering him.] Floriville, my deliverer!—generous man!—No, sir, whatever are his crimes, do not kill him; his greatest punishment will be to live.
Flor. There, then, caitiff, take your sword, and, d'ye hear? retire;—that black front of thine offends the lady;—if you want another flourish, you will soon find Floriville—abscond.
Willoughby. Sir, you shall hear from me—distraction!
[Exit.
Flor. And now, my dear little angel, how can I assist you? I'm very sorry that I can't help it—I'm cursed drunk, and not proper company for a lady of your dignity,—but I won't affront you,—I mean to make myself agreeable, and if I do not—it is the fault of that place, [Pointing to his head.] and not of this, [Pointing to his heart.]