_Gib._ Absolution! Can you procure me a pardon, doctor? _Foig._ No, joy.---- _Gib._ Then you and your absolution may go to the devil. _Arch._ Convey him into the cellar, there bind him:--Take the pistol, and if he offers to resist, shoot him through the head,--and come back to us with all the speed you can. _Scrub._ Ay, ay; come, doctor, do you hold him fast, and I'll guard him. [_Exeunt_ SCRUB, GIBBET, _and_ FOIGARD. _Mrs. Sul._ But how came the doctor? _Arch._ In short, madam----[_Shrieking without._] 'Sdeath! the rogues are at work with the other ladies:--I'm vexed I parted with the pistol; but I must fly to their assistance--Will you stay here, madam, or venture yourself with me? _Mrs. Sul._ Oh, with you, dear sir, with you. [_Takes him by the Arm, and exeunt._ SCENE III. _Another Apartment._ _Enter_ HOUNSLOW _and_ BAGSHOT, _with Swords drawn, dragging in_ LADY BOUNTIFUL _and_ DORINDA. _Houns._ Come, come, your jewels, mistress. _Bag._ Your keys, your keys, old gentlewoman. _Enter_ AIMWELL. _Aim._ Turn this way, villains; I durst engage an army in such a cause. [_He engages them both._ _Enter_ ARCHER _and_ MRS. SULLEN. _Arch._ Hold! hold! my lord; every man his bird, pray. [_They engage Man to Man; the Rogues are thrown down, and disarmed._ _Arch._ Shall we kill the rogues? _Aim._ No, no; we'll bind them. _Arch._ Ay, ay; here, madam, lend me your garter. [_To_ MRS. SULLEN, _who stands by him_. _Mrs. Sul._ The devil's in this fellow; he fights, loves, and banters all in a breath: here's a rope, that the rogues brought with them, I suppose. _Arch._ Right, right, the rogue's destiny, a rope to hang himself----Come, my lord,----this is but a scandalous sort of an office, [_Binding the_ ROGUES _together_.] if our adventure should end in this sort of hangmanwork; but I hope there is something in prospect that-- _Enter_ SCRUB. Well, Scrub, have you secured your Tartar? _Scrub._ Yes, sir, I left the priest and him disputing about religion. _Aim._ And pray carry these gentlemen to reap the benefit of the controversy. [_Delivers the_ PRISONERS _to_ SCRUB, _who leads them out_. _Mrs. Sul._ Pray, sister, how came my lord here? _Dor._ And pray, how came the gentleman here? _Mrs. Sul._ I'll tell you the greatest piece of villainy--[_They talk in dumb Show._ _Aim._ I fancy, Archer, you have been more successful in your adventure than the housebreakers. _Arch._ No matter for my adventure, yours is the principal----Press her this minute to marry you,--now while she's hurried between the palpitation of her fear, and the joy of her deliverance, now while the tide of her spirits are at high-flood:----throw yourself at her feet, speak some romantic nonsense or other;--confound her senses, bear down her reason, and away with her:--The priest is now in the cellar, and dare not refuse to do the work. _Aim._ But how shall I get off without being observed?