Will. Now thou talk'st of
Phillis, prithee, dear Harry, what Women hast in store? Beau. I'll
tell thee; but first inform me whom these two Sparks are. Will. Egad,
and so they are, Child: Salute 'em- They are my Friends- True Blades,
Hal. highly guilty of the royal Crime, poor and brave, loyal
Fugitives. Beau. I love and honour 'em, Sir, as such- [Bowing to
Blunt. Blunt. Sir, there's neither Love nor Honour lost. Feth. Sir, I
scorn to be behind-hand in Civilities. Beau. At first sight I find I
am much yours, Sir. [To Feth. Feth. Sir, I love and honour any Man
that's a Friend to Captain Willmore- and therefore I am yours- Enter
Shift. -Well, honest Lieutenant, how does thy Body?- When shall Ned,
and thou and I, crack a Bisket o'er a Glass of Wine, have a Slice of
Treason and settle the Nation, hah? Shift. You know, Squire, I am
devotedly yours. [They talk aside. Beau. Prithee who are these? Will.
Why, the first you saluted is the same Ned Blunt you have often heard
Belvile and I speak of: the other is a Rarity of another Nature, one
Squire Fetherfool of Croydon, a tame Justice of Peace, who liv'd as
innocently as Ale and Food could keep him, till for a mistaken
Kindness to one of the Royal Party, he lost his Commission, and got
the Reputation of a Sufferer: He's rich, but covetous as an Alderman.
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