Aim. O, sir, I ask your pardon; you are the captain he told me of?
Gib. At your service, sir.
Aim. What regiment, may I be so bold?
Gib. A marching regiment, sir; an old corps.
Aim. Very old, if your coat be regimental. [Aside.] You have served abroad, sir?
Gib. Yes, sir, in the plantations; 'twas my lot to be sent into the worst service; I would have quitted it indeed, but a man of honour, you know——Besides, 'twas for the good of my country, that I should be abroad——Any thing for the good of one's country.—I'm a Roman for that.
Aim. One of the first, I'll lay my life. [Aside.] You found the West Indies very hot, sir?
Gib. Ay, sir, too hot for me.
Aim. Pray sir, han't I seen your face at Will's coffeehouse?
Gib. Yes, sir, and at White's too.