ir H._ I understand you, madam. [_Exit_ LADY DARLING.] Here am I
brought to a very pretty dilemma. I must commit murder, or commit
matrimony; which is the best now? a license from Doctors' Commons, or a
sentence from the Old Bailey?--If I kill my man, the law hangs me; if
I marry my woman, I shall hang myself.----But, damn it--cowards dare
fight:--I'll marry, that's the most daring action of the two. [_Exit._

SCENE II.

_Newgate._

CLINCHER SENIOR, _solus_.

_Clinch. sen._ How severe and melancholy are Newgate reflections! Last
week my father died; yesterday I turned beau; to-day I am laid by the
heels, and to-morrow shall be hung by the neck.----I was agreeing with a
bookseller about printing an account of my journey through France and
Italy; but now the history of my travels must be through Holborn, to
Tyburn.--"The last dying speech of Beau Clincher, that was going to the
Jubilee--Come, a halfpenny a-piece."--A sad sound, a sad sound, 'faith!
'Tis one way to make a man's death make a great noise in the world.

_Enter_ TOM ERRAND.

A reprieve! a reprieve! thou dear, dear--damned rogue. Where have you
been? Thou art the most welcome--son of a whore; where's my clothes?

_Tom._ Sir, I see where mine are. Come, sir, strip, sir, strip.

_Clinch. sen._ Sir, you cannot master me, for I am twenty thousand
strong. [_Exeunt, struggling._

SCENE III.

LADY DARLING'S _House_.

_Enter_ SIR H. WILDAIR, _with Cards_; SERVANTS _following_.

_Sir H._ Here, fly all around, and bear these as directed; you to
Westminster, you to St. James's, and you into the city. Tell all my
friends, a bridegroom's joy invites their presence. Tell them, I am
married. If any ask to whom, make no reply; but tell them, that I am
married; that joy shall crown the day, and love the night. Begone, fly.

_Enter_ COLONEL STANDARD.

A thousand welcomes, friend; my pleasure's now complete, since I can
share it with my friend: brisk joy shall bound from me to you; then back
again; and, like the sun, grow warmer by reflection.

_Colonel S._ You are always pleasant, Sir Harry; but this transcends
yourself: whence proceeds it?

_Sir H._ Canst thou not guess, my friend? Whence flows all earthly joy?
What is the life of man, and soul of pleasure? Woman.----What fires the
heart with transport, and the soul with raptures?--Lovely woman----What
is the master-stroke and smile of the creation, but char