[Sir Harry knocks him down.
Sir H. Sir, I beg you ten thousand pardons; but I am absolutely compelled to it, upon my honour, sir: nothing can be more averse to my inclinations, than to jest with my honest, dear, loving, obliging friend, the Alderman.
[Striking him all this while: Smuggler tumbles over and over.
Enter Lady Lurewell.
Lady L. Oh, lord! Sir Harry's murdering the poor old man.
Smug. Oh, dear madam, I was beaten in jest, till I am murdered in good earnest.
Lady L. Oh! you barbarous man!—Now the devil take you, Sir Harry, for not beating him harder—Well, my dear, you shall come at night, and I'll make you amends.
[Here Sir Harry takes Snuff.
Smug. Madam, I will have amends before I leave the place——Sir, how durst you use me thus!
Sir H. Sir?