_Colonel S._ I thought, Sir Harry, to have met you ere this in a more convenient place; but since my wrongs were without ceremony, my revenge shall be so too.--Draw, sir. _Sir H._ Draw, sir! What shall I draw? _Colonel S._ Come, come, sir, I like your facetious humour well enough; it shows courage and unconcern. I know you brave, and therefore use you thus. Draw your sword. _Sir H._ Nay, to oblige you, I will draw; but the devil take me if I fight.--Perhaps, colonel, this is the prettiest blade you have seen. _Colonel S._ I doubt not but the arm is good; and therefore think both worth my resentment. Come, sir. _Sir H._ But, pr'ythee, colonel, dost think that I am such a madman, as to send my soul to the devil and body to the worms--upon every fool's errand? [_Aside._ _Colonel S._ I hope you're no coward, sir. _Sir H._ Coward, sir! I have eight thousand pounds a year, sir. _Colonel S._ You fought in the army, to my knowledge. _Sir H._ Ay, for the same reason that I wore a red coat; because 'twas fashionable. _Colonel S._ Sir, you fought a French count in Paris. _Sir H._ True, sir, he was a beau, like myself. Now you're a soldier, colonel, and fighting's your trade; and I think it downright madness to contend with any man in his profession. _Colonel S._ Come, sir, no more dallying; I shall take very unseemly methods, if you don't show yourself a gentleman. _Sir H._ A gentleman! Why, there again, now. A gentleman! I tell you once more, colonel, that I am a baronet, and have eight thousand pounds a year. I can dance, sing, ride, fence, understand the languages--Now I can't conceive how running you through the body should contribute one jot more to my gentility. But pray, colonel, I had forgot to ask you, what's the quarrel? _Colonel S._ A woman, sir. _Sir H._ Then I put up my sword. Take her. _Colonel S._ Sir, my honour's concerned. _Sir H._ Nay, if your honour be concerned with a woman, get it out of her hands as soon as you can.--An honourable lover is the greatest slave in nature: some will say, the greatest fool. Come, come, colonel, this is something about the Lady Lurewell, I warrant; I can give you satisfaction in that affair. _Colonel S._ Do so then immediately. _Sir H._ Put up your sword first; you know I dare fight, but I had much rather make you a friend than an enemy. I can assure you this lady will prove too hard for one of your temper. You have too much honour, too much in conscience, to be a favourite with the ladies. _Colonel S._ I'm assured, sir, she never gave you any encouragement. _Sir H._ A man can never hear reason with his sword in his hand. Sheath your weapon; and then, if I don't satisfy you, sheath it in my body. _Colonel S._ Give me but demonstration of her granting you any favour, and it is enough. _Sir H._ Will you take my word? _Colonel S._ Pardon me, sir, I cannot. _Sir H._ Will you believe your own eyes?