Orfa. Oh! I understand you, Sir.

[Exeunt.

[Philatell and Samorat fight.

Phil. In pofture ftill!

[Samorat receives a flight Wound. ·

Oh, y'are mortal than it feems.

Sam. Thou haft undone thy felf, rash Man; For with this Blood thou haft let out a Spirit Will vex thee to thy Grave.

[Fight again, Samorat takes away Philatell's Sword and takes Breath, then gives it him.

Sam. I'm cool again,

Here my Lord.

And let this Present bind your Friendship.

Phil. Yes thus.

Sam. Treacherous and low.

Enter Orfabrin.

Orfa. I have dril'd my Gentleman,

I have made as many Holes in him
As wou'd fink a Ship Royal

In fight of the Haven.

How now?

[Runs at him.

[Samorat upon his Knee.

S'foot yonder's another going that Way too.

Now have I forgot of which Side I'm on.

No matter.

I'll help the weakeft;

There's fome Justice in that.

Phil. The Villain fure has flain my Brother.

If I have any Friends above,

Guide now my Hand unto his Heart.

[Orfabin puts it by, runs at him, Samorat fteps in.

Sam. Hold noble Youth,

Destroy me not with Kindness:

;

Men will fay he cou'd have kill'd me,
And that Injustice shou'd not be
For Honours fake leave us together.-
Orfa. 'Tis not my Business fighting
Th' Employment's yours, Sir:
If you need me,

I am within your call.

[Puts up.

Sam

Sam. The Gods reward thee:

Now Philatell thy worft.

[They fight again and clofe, Samorat forces his Sword. Enter Orfabrin.

Orfa. Hell and the Furies are broke loofe upon us, Shift for your felf, Sir

[Fly into the Woods feveral Ways, purfu'd by Thieves

in Devils Habits.

Enter Torcular, weak with bleeding.

Tor. It will not be,

My Body is a Jade;

I feel it tire and languish under me.

Those Thoughts came to my Soul

Like Screech-Owls to a fick Man's Window..

Enter Thieves back again.

Thie. Here-here

[They bind him, and

Tor. Oh! I am fetcht away alive.

Enter Orfabrin.

Orfa. Now the good Gods preferve my Senfes right,

For they were never in more Danger;

I'th' Name of Doubt, what cou'd this be?

Sure 'twas a Conjurer I dealt withal:

And while I thought him bufie at his Prayers, 'Twas at his Circle, levying this Regiment. Here they are again.

Enter Samorat.

Sam. Friend-Stranger. -Noble Youth
Orfa. Here-here-

Sam. Shift, fhift the Place,

The Wood is dangerous:

As you love fafety,

Follow me.

Enter Philatell.

Phil. They've left the Place,

And yet I cannot find the Body any where

May be he did not kill him then,

But he recover'd Strength,

[Exeunt.

And

And reach the Town

It may be not too

Oh that this Hour cou'd be call'd back again.

But 'tis too late,

And time must cure the Wound that's given by Fate---

Enter Samorat and Orfabrin.

Orfa. I'th' Shape of Lions too fometimes,

And Bears?

Sam. Often, Sir.

Orfa. Pray unriddle

Sam. The wifer fort do think them Thieves, Which but affume thefe Forms to rob

More powerfully.

Orfa. Why does not then the State

Set out fome Forces, and fupprefs them?

Sam. It often has, Sir, but without Succefs.
Orfa. How fo?

Sam. During the time thofe Levies are abroad,
Not one of them appears.

There have been

That have attempted under Ground,

But of those, as of the dead,

There has been no Return.

Orfa. Strange!

Sam. The common People think them a Race Of honest and familiar Devils,

For they do hurt to none,

Unless refifted;

They feldom take away, but with exchange;

And to the poor they often give,

Return the hurt and fick recover'd,

Reward, or Punish as they do find caufe.

Orfa. How cause?—

[Exit.

Sam. Why, Sir, they blind ftill those they take, And make them tell the Stories of their Lives; Which known, they do accordingly.

Orfa.

Orfa. You make me wonder, Sir,

How long is't fince they thus have troubled you?
Sam. It was immediately upon

The great deciding Day,

Fought 'twixt the two pretending Families,
The Samorats, and the Orfabrins.

Orfa. Ha! Orfabrin?

Sam. But, Sir, that Story's fad, and tedious,
We're entring now the Town,

A Place lefs fafe than were the Woods,
Since Torcular is flain

Orfa. How, Sir?

Sam. Yes.

He was the Brother to the Prince's Mistress,
The lov'd one too.

If we do prize our felves at any rate,

We must embark, and change the Clime,
There is no Safety here.

Orfa. Hum.

Sam. The little stay we make

Must be in fome dark Corner of the Town:

From whence, the Day hurry'd to th' other World,
We'll fally out to order for our Journey.
That I am forc'd to this, it grieves me not;
But, gentle Youth, that you fhou'd for my fake.
Orfa. Sir, lofe not a Thought on that,

A Storm at Sea threw me on Land,
And now a Storm on Land drives me

To Sea again.

Sam. Still noble. ཡ་

Enter Naffurat and Pellegrin.

Naf. Why? fuppofe 'tis to a

Wench,

You wou'd not go with me, wou'd you

Pella. To chufe, -to chufe,

Naf. Then there's no Remedy.

[Exeunt.

[Flings down his Hat, unbuttons himself, draws.

Pel. What doft mean?

-

Naf. Why fince I cannot leave you alive,

I will try to leave you dead.

Pel.

Pel. I thank you kindly, Sir, very kindly Now the Sedgly Curfe upon thee, And the great Fiend ride through thee Booted and fpur'd with a Scythe on his Neck; Pox on thee I'll see thee hang'd first; S'foot fhall make none of you your fine Points of Honour up at my Charge; Take Course if you your be fo hot. be doing,

Be doing,

Naf. I am got free of him at last:

There was no other way;

H'as been as troublefome as a Woman that

Wou'd be lov'd whether a Man wou'd or not,

And has watch'd me as if he had been

[Exit.

My Creditors Serjeant, if they shou'd have dispatch'd In the mean time there wou'd be fine

Opinions of me. I muft cut his Throat

In earnest if it fhou'd be fo.

[Exit.

Enter Peridor, Tamoren, with other Thieves, a

Thie. A Prize,

Per. Some Duel,

Horn founds.

a Prize,

á Prize,

Sir, was fought this Morning, this Weakned with Lofs of Blood, we took, the rest Escap'd.

Tam. He's fitter for our Surgeon, than for us, Hereafter we'll examine him

Thie. A Prize, -a Prize,

a Prize

[Again a fhout.

[They fet down Ardelan and Piramont.

Tam. Bring them, bring them, bring them in,

See if they have mortal Sin,

Pinch them as you dance about,

Pinch them 'till the Truth come out

Per. What art?

Ard. Extreamly poor and miserable.
Per. 'Tis well, 'tis well, proceed,

No Body will take that away from thee,
What Country?—

Fear not,

Ard.