_Mrs. Sul._ Your life! no, sir, they can rob me of nothing that I value half so much; therefore now, sir, let me entreat you to begone. _Arch._ No, madam, I'll consult my own safety, for the sake of yours; I'll work by stratagem: have you courage enough to stand the appearance of them? _Mrs. Sul._ Yes, yes; since I have escaped your hands, I can face any thing. _Arch._ Come hither, brother Scrub; don't you know me? _Scrub._ Eh! my dear brother, let me kiss thee! [_Kisses_ ARCHER. _Arch._ This way----Here---- [ARCHER _and_ SCRUB _hide_. _Enter_ GIBBET, _with a dark Lanthorn in one Hand, and a Pistol in the other_. _Gib._ Ay, ay, this is the chamber, and the lady alone. _Mrs. Sul._ Who are you, sir? What would you have? D'ye come to rob me? _Gib._ Rob you! alack a day, madam, I'm only a younger brother, madam; and so, madam, if you make a noise, I'll shoot you through the head: but don't be afraid, madam. [_Laying his Lanthorn and Pistol upon the Table._] These rings, madam; don't be concerned, madam; I have a profound respect for you, madam; your keys, madam; don't be frighted, madam; I'm the most of a gentleman. [_Searching her Pockets._] This necklace, madam; I never was rude to any lady! I have a veneration--for this necklace. [_Here_ ARCHER, _having come round, and seized the Pistol, takes_ GIBBET _by the Collar, trips up his Heels, and claps the Pistol to his Breast_. _Arch._ Hold, profane villain, and take the reward of thy sacrilege. _Gib._ Oh! pray, sir, don't kill me; I an't prepared. _Arch._ How many is there of them, Scrub? _Scrub._ Five and forty, sir. _Arch._ Then I must kill the villain, to have him out of the way. _Gib._ Hold! hold! sir; we are but three, upon my honour. _Arch._ Scrub, will you undertake to secure him? _Scrub._ Not I, sir; kill him, kill him! _Arch._ Run to Gipsey's chamber; there you'll find the doctor; bring him hither presently. [_Exit_ SCRUB, _running_.] Come, rogue, if you have a short prayer, say it. _Gib._ Sir, I have no prayer at all; the government has provided a chaplain to say prayers for us on these occasions. _Mrs. Sul._ Pray, sir, don't kill him: You fright me as much as him. _Arch._ The dog shall die, madam, for being the occasion of my disappointment.--Sirrah, this moment is your last. _Gib._ Sir, I'll give you two hundred pounds to spare my life. _Arch._ Have you no more, rascal? _Gib._ Yes, sir, I can command four hundred; but I must reserve two of them to save my life at the sessions. _Enter_ SCRUB _and_ FOIGARD. _Arch._ Here, doctor: I suppose Scrub and you, between you, may manage him:----Lay hold of him. [FOIGARD _lays hold of_ GIBBET. _Gib._ What! turned over to the priest already----Lookye, doctor, you come before your time; I an't condemned yet, I thank ye. _Foig._ Come, my dear joy, I vil secure your body and your shoul too; I will make you a good catholic, and give you an absolution.