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Sir Tim How, Sir! why? where? what? meaning whom?

[Staring. Pinch. What? why Bite, Old Gentleman, that's all, Bite!

Scrib. Good lack! how he looks! de-de-dear Squire,

come away.

Sir Tim. 'Tis all falfe! 'tis impoffible! 'tis not in Na ture! Sir, you're Son of a Bitch. darin of the Tribunal of Juftice

the most excellent Oriental Countries

Sir, I am a ManI am a Trader to

I never was

bit in my Life, nor ever will be bit, that's more, by the Majefty of Peking.

Scrib. Dear Squire, have a Care, that's a very hard Stick in his Hand.

Pinch. Let me alone, you shall fee I'll fun him I'll fun him, I warrant you.Come old Gentleman, [To Sir Timothy.] no Harm, only a little Merriment I give a Bite, and I take a Bite.

gain.

bite me a

Sir Tim. I would as foon commit Felony or Treason I thank a good Confcience, and a virtuous Education, I am none of thofe: Go, Sir, whoever you are, you're an idle Man young and your Parents But I fay no more! I would not have any Child of mine come near you.. for oh Dear

[Lifting up his Hands. Pinch. This is foolish enough, faith! this old Fellow is very hellish and very ftupid-----What an' I warrant you you take us Biters to be fad Dogs?

Sir Tim. By the Majefty of Peking and fo I do---- I take you to be worse than Popery, Slavery, Presbitery, Rebellion, Plague, Fire, Famine, and a ftanding Army to boot.

--What a Condition is this poor Nation in! What with Plotters in one Place, and Biters in another, and yet no Body's hang'd for either.

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Pinch. What ftrange Enemies thefe old Fools are to us Wits!- Well! 'tis a wonderful thing in Nature, but certainly there is fuch a thing as Sympathy and Antipathy.

Sir

Sir Tim. I have, I thank my Stars, feen Governments where Immoralities of this kind were Death Death by the Law.There are Princes!-----The King of Tunquin, and Emperor of Japan, and the Serene Cham! I would fain fee a Man pretend to bite in their Courts,

Pinch. Say you me fo? Od! wou'd I were well there ---I and a Knot of Wags that I know.

Sir Tim. And what would'ft thou do before their glorious Thrones?----why they'd hang thee, hang thee up, thou wretched Puppy!

Pinch, Wou'd they fo, old Boy! Come, I'll tell thee what, that's fair,------I'll hold thee an even Wager that I bite the Cham of Tartary, his Royal Relations, his most Honourable Privy-Council, and all his Minifters, from his Lord-Keeper to his Corn-cutter, within the Space of one Year and Six Months from the Day of the Date of these Prefents.

Sir Tim. What, his prefent Majefty?

Pinch. Yea verily.

Sir Tim. The Cham that now reigneth?

Pinch. Cham or Keyfar, all one to Peter, i'faith.

Sir Tim. You lie, and you're a Rafcal.

[Beating him round the Stage.

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----what,

Pinch. Phaw! nay! pooh! what's this for? I fuppofe if a Man pays Scot and Lot-----pray, Sir, hold,

Sir.

Sir Tim. I'll bite you, you Dog! Bite, quotha!- - And are you a Biter too, Sirrah?

[To Scribblefcrabble,

Scrib. No, no, no, as I hope to live ---- I am a civil peaceable Man, and a City Sollicitor. Sir Tim. I fhall put you in mind once more of his Majefty of China. [Beating him again. Pinch 'Tis very well! very well indeed! If a Man may not be a little harmlefly witty--why, Mr. Scribbleferable,. help! Murder! help!

Enter Clerimont, he interpofes.

Cler. How! Mr. Pinch fuffering under my Uncle!-Pray, Sir, hold your Hand.

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Timi

Sir Tim. Art thou there, Varlet! thou Enemy to EaftIndia Companies! thou Villain thou!

Cler. Pray, Sir, be pacify'd.

Sir Tim. Sirrah! I will never be pacify'd---I thought this was one of thy wicked Companions---but Fll be reveng'd of you all---I will fo.---Bite the Cham of Iartary! [Exit Sir Tim. Serib. Mr. Clerimont, here has been a dreadful Ca-CaCatastrophe; but harkye, the Squire and your Uncle didn't know one another.

Cler. That was lucky indeed! Enough! [Afide. What unlucky Accident was this! Well I profefs I am very forry for it. O he's a mad old Fellow-----I wish he han't hurt your Ingenuity---I fwear he has batter'd the Outfide of it most abominably.

Pinch. He has broke all my Head here, only for a Word Speaking. [Half crying. As I hope to live, I meant no more Harm!--And he has all blooded my Neckcloth here----I don't know what to do, not I.

Scrib. The Squire woud'n't be perfuaded, he wou'd bite him, and fo the Me- Matter happen'd.

Cler. See, here are the Ladies----come, Courage----'twas a Misfortune your Wit brought upon you, and fo the bet- ter to be endur'd.

Enter Friendly, Mariana, and Stale.

Pinch. I'd ha' given a Hundred Pounds out of my Pocket, this fcurvy Bus'nefs hadn't happen'd.

Mar. What, d'ye turn away from me? Unkind Mr Pinch!
Pinch. A little out of Order, Madam, that's all-
Cler. Oh, he has had a misfortune

Mar. You fright me to Death! The matter?

Cler. Only a Rencounter, a Drubbing or fo! Hark, I'll tell you.

[Whisper. Pinch. Dear Mr. Scribblefcrabble, look in my FaceHow do I look? fadly! ha!

Scrib. Truly that Blow upon your Forehead has difcompos'd your Phifiognomy ftrangely.

Pinch. What, ruful! difmal!

Scrib.

Scrib. But ftep afide here, and we'll get fome Water and a Patch, and furbish up your Countenance again as well

as ever.

Pinch. Will you be fo kind? I shall acknowledge the Favour the longest Day I have to live.

[Exeunt Pinch and Scribblefcabble. Mar. Thus it happens, between too much Wit and too little Valour.

Friend. The poor Corpfe indeed has a damn'd time on't that's match'd with a pert Understanding, and frequently fuffers for keeping bad Company.

Stale. Well, for my part I have deduc'd it from a long Concatenation of Observations, that nothing but fuch extravagant Accidents attend upon the Converfations of thofe Impertinents they call Wits. Mr. Friendly, I will beg one thing of you---not that I pretend to any Influence; but People in my Circumftances do commonly ask one thing,----my Circumftances! Eh! Mon Cour! what Indifcretion! My Dear, you'll pardon me?

Mar. Oh dear Madam, why this Reserve among Friends? You know Mr. Clerimont and I are of your Party. --Come, out with your Requeft.---All your Lovers have fome little fond Requeft or other to make before Matrimony.

Cler. Yes, yes,---as not to chaw Tobacco, to fhift in your own Dreffing-Room- to have a Convenience apart, or---

1

Mar. O filthy! O abominable! no, no, none of thefe--but whatever it be, I'll engage Mr. Friendly fhall make it good.

Friend. Your most obedient humble Servant.

Stale. Well, Mr. Friendly, 'tis only this: That, for my fake, you wou'd never bite any Perfon, of any Sex, Age, or Condition in the World; but that, above all, you wou'd forbear your devoted and moft engag'd Friend and Servant.

.. Friend. Forbear you, dear Madam? the most reasonable Requeft that was ever made in the World.

Stale. Not that I wou'd have you misunderstand me neither, dear Mr. Friendly.

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Friend

Friend. If any Prefumption of mine has given your Ladyfhip occafion to think---

Stale. Oh fy! no, Mr. Friendly.

Friend I do here folemnly fwear and declare, in the Face of the World, that from the Day of the Date of thefe Prefents I will moft fincerely refrain, abftain and forbear

Stale. Pifh! why this is'nt it, this is'nt what I mean, this isn't what I'd be at.

Friend. From any matter or thing whatsoever that has the Honour, in any manner, to appertain or belong to your Ladyship.

Mar. Was ever any thing fo infufferably ill-natur❜d? to miftake a poor Woman fo aukwardly, and turn her plain. meaning fo quite contrary to her Inclination.

Cler. But if it paffes fo, I am miftaken.

Stale. Why I tell you, and tell you again, you take me wrong, Mr. Friendly.

Friend, Madam, I woud'n't prefume to take you at all---

Stale. Shoo! how foolish this is in you, Mr. Friendly! this Rallery is very mal à propos, Mr. Friendly. ----I'll vowif you perfift in it, Mr. Friendly, you'll make me extreamly angry with you.

Mar. Dear Madam, what's the matter?

Stale. A foolish double entendre, my Dear.
Mar. You're difcompos'd.

Stale. I'm always fo with a double entendre; a double en-tendre always difcompofes me, efpecially when they will mean it the wrong way, in fpight of all one does to take it the right.

Mar. Nay, then there's fomething in it indeed----Mr. Clerimont, come, you must join with me---We'll do Mr. Friendly a good Office in fpight of his Teeth; this muft come to an Ecclarciffement, it may grow to a Quarrel elfe.

Stale. No, my Dear, there's no fear of that, I hope--Let me fmell to your Hungary- Water a little, Mr. Friendly. Cler. Kind Creature! what a Look was there! what a Smile Friend

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