_Sir Mart._ What the devil would you have a man do, when my hand is in! Well, o'my conscience, I think there is a fate upon me. [_Noise within._ _Mill._ Look, Rose, what's the matter. _Rose._ 'Tis Sir John Swallow pursued by the bailiffs, madam, according to our plot; it seems they have dogged him thus late to his lodging. _Mill._ That's well; for though I begin not to love this fool, yet I am glad I shall be rid of him. [_Exeunt_ MILL. _and_ ROSE. _Enter_ SIR JOHN, _pursued by three Bailiffs over the stage_. _Sir Mart._ Now I'll redeem all again; my mistress shall see my valour, I'm resolved on't. Villains, rogues, poltroons! What? three upon one? In fine, I'll be with you immediately. [_Exit._ _Warn._ Why, sir, are you stark mad? have you no grain of sense left? He's gone! now is he as earnest in the quarrel as Cokes among the puppets; 'tis to no purpose whatever I do for him. [_Exit_ WARNER. _Enter_ SIR JOHN _and_ SIR MARTIN (_having driven away the Bailiffs_); SIR MARTIN _flourishes his sword_. Sir Mart. _Victoria! Victoria!_ What heart, Sir John? you have received no harm, I hope? _Sir John._ Not the least; I thank you, sir, for your timely assistance, which I will requite with any thing, but the resigning of my mistress. Dear Sir Martin, a goodnight. _Sir Mart._ Pray let me wait upon you in, Sir John. _Sir John._ I can find my way to Mrs Millisent without you, sir, I thank you. _Sir Mart._ But pray, what were you to be arrested for? _Sir John._ I know no more than you; some little debts perhaps I left unpaid by my negligence: Once more, good night, sir. [_Exit._ _Sir Mart._ He's an ungrateful fellow; and so, in fine, I shall tell him when I see him next--Monsieur---- _Enter_ WARNER. Warner, _a propos_! I hope you'll applaud me now. I have defeated the enemy, and that in sight of my mistress; boy, I have charmed her, i'faith, with my valour. _Warn._ Ay, just as much as you did e'en now with your music; go, you are so beastly a fool, that a chiding is thrown away upon you. _Sir Mart._ Fool in your face, sir; call a man of honour fool, when I have just achieved such an enterprise--Gad, now my blood's up, I am a dangerous person, I can tell you that, Warner. _Warn._ Poor animal, I pity thee! _Sir Mart._ I grant I am no musician, but you must allow me for a swordsman: I have beat them bravely; and, in fine, I am come off unhurt, save only a little scratch in the head. _Warn._ That's impossible; thou hast a skull so thick, no sword can pierce it; but much good may it do you, sir, with the fruits of your valour: You rescued your rival, when he was to be arrested, on purpose to take him off from your mistress.