Hau. You beat him, yes, you; what a Pox do you scruple such a kindness to a Friend? I know you make no more of killing a Man next your Heart in a Morning, than I do of eating a pickled Herring. Lov. But she desir’d you to do’t. Hau. That’s all one so it be done, mun; besides, why should I run my self into a Premunire, when I need not? Your Father is bound by Agreement to mine, to deliver me the Wares (that is, his Daughter) safe and sound; and I have no more to do, but to protest against him in case of Non-performance. ’Twill be a dear Commodity to me at this rate. [Cries. Lov. Well, Sir, I’ll see what may be done. Hau. Spoke like a Friend now: Well, you must about it instantly, for I must be married to day. Alon. Must you so, Sir?— Hau. Yes marry must I, Sir—Who the Devil’s this now? [To _Lovis_. Alon. That same _Alonzo_ whom you inquire for. 296 Hau. Are you so, Sir?—Why, what then, Sir,—_Lovis_, _Lovis_. [Runs behind _Lovis_. Alon. What then, Sir? then I tell you, I will not be beaten. Hau. Look ye here now—_Lovis_. Lov. Ha, ha, ha, canst thou be angry with him? [To _Alonzo_. Hau. I, can you be angry with me? Alon. I know not why an Ass should have more privilege than any other rude Beast. Lov. Ha, ha, ha, this Humour’s so pleasant in thee, I wish thou wouldst pursue it a little—_Haunce_, bear up to him, he’s but a mere Huff, ha, ha, ha. [Claps him on the Back, he goes fearfully forward. Glo. I, Sir, as long as Don _Lovis_ is here, you may say what you will. Hau. May I so?—and why, Sir?—am I, Sir—an Ass, Sir? [Runs behind _Lovis_. Alon. ’Sdeath, you Rascal, do you question me? Hau. Oh, hold, Sir, hold, not I, God forbid I should question it, _Lovis_—is it, indeed, _Alonzo_, hah? Lov. Yes indeed is it. Hau. And wilt thou not do so much as to beat him for me a little? Lov. Not I, I dare not, he’s a terrible Man. Hau. Why look you here now, you damn’d Rogue, [To _Gload_.] Have not you serv’d me finely, hah? Gload. Why, Sir, ’tis but crying Peccavi. Hau. Peccavi, and be hang’d to you—Lord, Sir, [To _Alonzo_.] why are you so angry? I came but to ask you a civil Question, from my Wife that must be. Alon. You must ask me leave, first. Hau. Yes, yes, Sir, so she said mun; for she must marry me to night. Alon. Yes, you shall have it with this—too. [Draws. Hau. Why look you [_Haunce_ runs away, _Lovis_ stays 297 him.] here now, here’s damn’d doings. For my part, I declare it here upon my Death-bed, I am forc’d to what I do, and you kill me against my Will. Alon. Do’st think we are not discover’d in our Design? I’d kill the Dog if I thought we were. Lov. I believe not; and perceive by my Sister’s Message, that we are to come to her, and prevent this Fellow’s marrying her. Alon. Well, Sir, I’ll spare your Life, and give your Mistress leave to marry to night. Hau. How, Sir, to Night?—But is he in earnest, _Lovis?_ Lov. In very good earnest.