ctive
favourites, and, from less to more, hands were raised, and blows given,
and the trades'-lads, being as hot in their differences as the gentlemen,
a dreadful riot ensued. Gillstoups, porter bottles, and penny pies flew
like balls and bomb-shells in battle. Mrs Fenton, with her mutch off,
and her hair loose, with wide and wild arms, like a witch in a whirlwind,
was seen trying to sunder the challengers, and the champions. Finding,
however, her endeavours unavailing, and fearing that murder would be
committed, she ran like desperation into the streets, crying for help. I
was just at the time stepping into my bed, when I heard the uproar, and,
dressing myself again, I went out to the street; for the sound and din of
the riot came raging through the silence of the midnight, like the
tearing and swearing of the multitude at a house on fire, and I thought
no less an accident could be the cause.

On going into the street, I met several persons running to the scene of
action, and, among others, Mrs Beaufort, with a gallant of her own, and
both of them no in their sober senses. It's no for me to say who he was;
but assuredly, had the woman no been doited with drink, she never would
have seen any likeness between him and me, for he was more than twenty
years my junior. However, onward we all ran to Mrs Fenton's house, where
the riot, like a raging caldron boiling o'er, had overflowed into the
street.

The moment I reached the door, I ran forward with my stick raised, but
not with any design of striking man, woman, or child, when a ramplor
devil, the young laird of Swinton, who was one of the most outstrapolous
rakes about the town, wrenched it out of my grip, and would have, I dare
say, made no scruple of doing me some dreadful bodily harm, when suddenly
I found myself pulled out of the crowd by a powerful-handed woman, who
cried, "Come, my love; love, come:" and who was this but that scarlet
strumpet, Mrs Beaufort, who having lost her gallant in the crowd, and
being, as I think, blind fou, had taken me for him, insisting before all
present that I was her dear friend, and that she would die for me--with
other siclike fantastical and randy ranting, which no queen in a tragedy
could by any possibility surpass. At first I was confounded and
overtaken, and could not speak; and the worst of all was, that, in a
moment, the mob seemed to forget their quarrel, and to turn in derision
on me. What might have ensued it would n