_Bis._ Sir, your intention of waiting on me was the greatest affront imaginable, however your expressions may turn it to a compliment: Your visit, sir, was intended as a prologue to a very scurvy play, of which, Mr. Mirabel and you so handsomely laid the plot.--"Marry! No, no, I am a man of more honour."--Where's your honour? Where's your courage now? Ads my life, sir, I have a great mind to kick you!--Go, go to your fellow-rake now, rail at my sex, and get drunk for vexation, and write a lampoon--But I must have you to know, sir, that my reputation is above the scandal of a libel, my virtue is sufficiently approved to those whose opinion is my interest: and, for the rest, let them talk what they will; for, when I please, I'll be what I please, in spite of you and all mankind; and so, my dear man of honour, if you be tired, con over this lesson, and sit there till I come to you. [_Runs off._ _Dur._ Tum ti dum. [_Sings._] Ha! ha! ha! "Ad's my life, I have a great mind to kick you!"--Oons and confusion! [_Starts up._] Was ever man so abused!--Ay, Mirabel set me on. _Enter_ PETIT. _Petit._ Well, sir, how d'ye find yourself? _Dur._ You son of a nine-eyed whore, d'ye come to abuse me? I'll kick you with a vengeance, you dog! [PETIT _runs off, and_ DURETETE _after him_. ACT THE THIRD. SCENE I. OLD MIRABEL'S _House_. _Enter_ OLD _and_ YOUNG MIRABEL, _meeting_. _Old Mir._ Bob, come hither, Bob. _Y. Mir._ Your pleasure, sir? _Old Mir._ Are not you a great rogue, sirrah? _Y. Mir._ That's a little out of my comprehension, sir; for I've heard say, that I resemble my father. _Old Mir._ Your father is your very humble slave--I tell thee what, child, thou art a very pretty fellow, and I love thee heartily; and a very great villain, and I hate thee mortally. _Y. Mir._ Villain, sir! Then I must be a very impudent one; for I can't recollect any passage of my life that I'm ashamed of. _Old Mir._ Come hither, my dear friend; dost see this picture? [_Shows him a little Picture._ _Y. Mir._ Oriana's? Pshaw! _Old Mir._ What, sir, won't you look upon't?--Bob, dear Bob, pr'ythee come hither now--Dost want any money, child? _Y. Mir._ No, sir. _Old Mir._ Why, then, here's some for thee: come here now--How canst thou be so hard-hearted, an unnatural, unmannerly rascal, (don't mistake me, child, I a'n't angry) as to abuse this tender, lovely, good-natured, dear rogue?--Why, she sighs for thee, and cries for thee, pouts for thee, and snubs for thee; the poor little heart of it is like to burst----Come, my dear boy, be good-natured, like your own father; be now--and then, see here, read this----the effigies of the lovely Oriana, with thirty thousand pound to her portion--thirty thousand pound, you dog! thirty thousand pound, you rogue! how dare you refuse a lady with thirty thousand pound, you impudent rascal? _Y. Mir._ Will you hear me speak, sir?