Well. I cannot sleep, my Impatience is so great to engage this haughty Enemy, before they have reposed their weary Limbs—Is not yon ruddy Light the Morning’s dawn?

Brag. ’Tis, and please your Honour.

Well. Is there no News of Friendly yet, and Hazard?

Brag. Not yet—’tis thought they left the Camp to night, with some design against the Enemy.

Well. What Men have they?

Brag. Only Boozer’s Party, Sir.

Well. I know they are brave, and mean to surprize me with some handsome Action.

Enter Friendly.

Friend. I ask a thousand Pardons, Sir, for quitting the Camp without your leave.

Well. Your conduct and your Courage cannot err; I see thou’st been in action by thy Blood.

Friend. Sir, I’m ashamed to own these slender Wounds, since without more my luck was to be taken, while Hazard did alone effect the Business, the rescuing of the Ladies.

Well. How got ye Liberty?

Friend. By Daring’s Generosity, who sends ye word he’ll visit you this Morning.

Well. We are prepared to meet him.

Enter Down. Hazard, Ladies, Whim. Whiff, Dullman, Tim. looking big. Well. embraces Down.

Well. My worthy Friend, how am I joyed to see you?

Down. We owe our Liberties to these brave Youths, who can do Wonders when they fight for Ladies.

Tim. With our assistance, Ladies.

Whim. For my part I’ll not take it as I have done; Gad, I find, when I am damnable angry, I can beat both Friend and Foe.

Whiff. When I fight for my Nancy here—adsfish, I’m a Dragon.

Mrs. Whiff. Lord, you need not have been so hasty.

Friend. Do not upbraid me with your Eyes, Chrisante; but let these Wounds assure you I endeavour’d to serve you, though Hazard had the Honour on’t.

Well. But, Ladies, we’ll not expose you in the Camp,—a Party of our Men shall see you safely conducted to Madam Surelove’s; ’tis but a little Mile from our Camp.

Friend. Let me have that honour, Sir.

Chris. No, I conjure you let your Wounds be dress’d; obey me if you love me, and Hazard shall conduct us home.

Well. He had the Toil, ’tis fit he have the Recompence.

Whiff. He the Toil, Sir! what, did we stand for Cyphers?

Whim. The very appearance I made in the front of the Battel, aw’d the Enemy.

Tim. Ay, ay, let the Enemy say how I maul’d ’em—but Gads zoors, I scorn to brag.

Well. Since you’ve regain’d your Honour so gloriously, I restore you to your Commands you lost by your seeming Cowardice.

Dull. Valour is not always in humour, Sir.

Well. Come, Gentlemen, since they’ve resolv’d to engage us, let’s set our Men in order to receive ’em. Exeunt all but the four Justices.

Tim. Our Commissions again—you must be bragging, and see what comes on’t; I was modest ye see, and said nothing of my Prowess.

Whiff. What a Devil does the Colonel think we are made of Iron, continually to be beat on the Anvil?

Whim. Look, Gentlemen, here’s two Evils—if we go we are dead Men; if we stay we are hang’d—and that will disorder my Cravat-string:—therefore the least Evil is to go—and set a good Face on the Matter, as I do—

Goes out singing. All exeunt.