Clinch. sen. Dem your Timothy!—your husband has murdered me, woman; for he has carried away my fine Jubilee clothes.
Mob. Away with him——away with him to the Thames.
Clinch. sen. Oh, if I had but my swimming girdle now!
Enter Constable.
Const. Hold, neighbours, I command the peace.
Wife. Oh, Mr. Constable, here's a rogue that has murdered my husband, and robbed him of his clothes.
Const. Murder and robbery!—Then he must be a gentleman.——Hands off there; he must not be abused.——Give an account of yourself. Are you a gentleman?
Clinch. sen. No, sir, I'm a beau.
Const. A beau—Then you have killed nobody, I'm persuaded. How came you by these clothes, sir?
Clinch. sen. You must know, sir, that walking along, sir, I don't know how, sir, I can't tell where, sir,—and so the porter and I changed clothes, sir.