Count Bas. Blood and thunder!
Const. And so, Sir, if you please to pull off your fool's frock there, I'll wait upon you to the next Justice of peace immediately.
Jenny. O dear me! what's the matter?
[Trembling.
Count Bas. O! nothing, only a masquerading frolic, my dear.
Squ. Rich. Oh oh! is that all?
Sir Fran. No, Sirrah! that is not all.
[Sir Francis coming softly behind the Squire, knocks him down with his cane.
Enter Manly.
Squ. Rich. O lawd! O lawd! he has beaten my brains out!