Enter Constable, &c. with Lord Foppington.
Lord Fop. Stap my Vitals, I'll have Satisfaction.
Sir John. [Running to him.] My dear Lord Foppington!
Lord Fop. Dear Friendly, thou art come in the critical Minute, strike me dumb.
Sir John. Why, I little thought to have found you in Fetters.
Lord Fop. Why truly the World must do me the justice to confess, I do use to appear, a little more degagé: But this old Gentleman, not liking the Freedom of my Air, has been pleased to skewer down my Arms like a Rabbit.
Sir Tun. Is it then possible that this shou'd be the true Lord Foppington at last?
Lord Fop. Why what do you see in his Face to make you doubt of it? Sir, without presuming to have any extraordinary Opinion of my Figure, give me leave to tell you, if you had seen as many Lords as I have done, you would not think it impossible a Person of a worse Taille than mine, might be a modern Man of Quality.
Sir Tun. Unbind him, Slaves: my Lord, I'm struck dumb, I can only beg Pardon by Signs; but if a Sacrifice will appease you, you shall have it. Here, pursue this Tartar, bring him back——Away, I say, a Dog, Oons——I'll cut off his Ears and his Tail, I'll draw out all his Teeth, pull his skin over his Head——and——what shall I do more?
Sir John. He does indeed deserve to be made an Example of.