Marpl. Murder, Murder; I was not in your House, Sir.
Enter Servant.
Serv. What's the matter, Sir?
Sir Jeal. The Matter, Rascals? Have you let a Man into my House; but I'll flea him Alive, follow me, I'll not leave a Mousehole unsearch'd; if I find him, by St. Jago, I'll Equip him for the Opera.
(Exit.
Marpl. A Duce of his Cane, there's no trusting to Age—what shall I do to Relieve Charles! Egad, I'll raise the Neighbourhood— Murder, Murder— (Charles drops down upon him from the Balcone.) Charles faith I'm glad to see thee safe out, with all my Heart.
Char. A Pox of your Bawling: How the Devil came you here?
Marpl. Here, gad I have done you a piece of Service; I told the old Thunderbolt, that the Gentleman that was gone in was—
Char. Was it you that told him, Sir? (Laying hold of him.) Z'death, I cou'd crush thee into Atoms.
(Exit Charles.