_Brag._ But the noise of his danger has so won the Hearts of the Mobile,
that they increase his Train as he goes, and follow him in the Town like
a Victor.
_Well._ Go wait his coming. [Exit _Brag_.
He grows too popular and must be humbled.
_Tim._ I was ever of your mind, Colonel.
_Well._ Ay, right or wrong--but what’s your Counsel now?
_Tim._ E’en as it used to be, I leave it to wiser Heads.
Enter _Brag_.
_Brag._ _Bacon_, Sir, is entring.
_Tim._ Gad zoors, wou’d I were safe in bed.
_Dull._ Colonel, keep in your Heat, and treat calmly with him.
_Well._ I rather wish you would all follow me, I’d meet him at the head
of all his noisy Rabble, and seize him from the Rout.
_Down._ What, Men of Authority dispute with Rake-hells! ‘tis below us,
Sir.
_Tim._ To stake our Lives and Fortunes against their nothing.
Enter _Bacon_, after him the Rabble with Staves and Clubs,
bringing in _Whim._ and _Whiff_ bound.
_Well._ What means this Insolence?--What, Mr. _Bacon_, do you come in
Arms?
_Bac._ I’d need, Sir, come in Arms, when Men that should be honourable
can have so poor Designs to take my Life.
_Well._ Thrust out his following Rabble.
_1st Rab._ We’ll not stir till we have the General safe back again.
_Bac._ Let not your Loves be too officious--but retire--
_1st Rab._ At your Command we vanish.-- [The Rabble retire.
_Bac._ I hope you’ll pardon me, if in my own defence I seized on these
two Murderers.
_Down._ You did well, Sir, ‘twas by no order they acted--stand forth and
hear your Sentence--in time of War we need no formal Tryals to hang
Knaves that act without order.
_Whiff._ Oh, Mercy, Mercy, Colonel--’twas Parson _Dunce’s_ Plot.
_Down._ Issue out a Warrant to seize _Dunce_ immediately--you shall be
carry’d to the Fort to pray.
_Whim._ Oh, good your Honour, I never pray’d in all my Life.
_Down._ From thence drawn upon a Sledge to the place of Execution--where
you shall hang till you are dead--and then be cut down and--
_Whim._ Oh, hold--hold--we shall never be able to endure half this.
[Kneeling.
_Well._ I think the Offence needs not so great Punishment; their Crime,
Sir, is but equal to your own, acting without Commission.
_Bac._ ‘Tis very well explained, Sir,--had I been murder’d by Commission
then, the Deed had been approved, and now perhaps I am beholding to the
Rabble for my Life.
_Well._ A fine Pretence to hide a popular Fault, but for this once we
pardon them and you.
_Bac._ Pardon! for what? by Heaven, I scorn your Pardon, I’ve not
offended Honour nor Religion.
_Well._ You have offended both in taking Arms.
_Bac._ Should I stand by and see my Country ruin’d, my King dishonour’d,
and his Subjects murder’d, hear the sad Crys of Widows and of Orphans?
you heard it loud, but gave no pitying care to’t, and till the War and
Massacre was brought to my own door, my Flocks and Herds surprized,
I bore it all with Patience. Is it unlawful to defend my self against a
Thief that breaks into my Doors?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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